how do you go about it
when you write a poem
scribble on a piece of sheet
then think about a name?

or do you just tap the keys
seek a clue to start
your way to save the trees
yet find a vent to heart.

do you sit tightly stiff
intent on the screen
or shuffle in the strong belief
they would pour the way you mean.

how do you find the time
or do you have enough
to betwixt work catch a rhyme
grab the thoughts by scruff.

do you write all alone
without a soul around
in a place quiet to the bone
but for your clicking sound.

or you have but little choice
to be by yourself in a room
yet bud a poem from the noise
grow it to full bloom.

my mind ponders the questions above
but the least I can do is to brood
how you pen a poem of love
that makes me feel so good.

Waiting on your call
When I've asked
day after day
hour after hour
for you to call
for you to be there
And yet all I know is that you
and I
are miles away and all we can do is
text.
and
Snap
and
chat.
What point is there to talking
to feeling
to being
to loving
when no matter how far I reach my hand
you dash before me, my fingertips
brushing your skin.
But I can't lose
it.
loose you.
So I wait.

I wonder
If my picture
Sits close to your bed

And if
In the night
You seek out my face

I wonder
If when your
Out with your guys texts

From me
Annoy you with
Ties to another lesser life

I wonder
If at night
You can hear me crying

Your name
And waiting and
Wishing for you to care

I wonder
If while I
Wonder, you wonder right along

And if
We two are
Just wondering why we can't

Just wander
Back into each
Others arms and stop wondering.

One
   scent
would
     always
stop
me in my tracks

The hearty,
          spicy,
              warm,
          comforting­
      smell
of Pumpkin Spice

Any form
              A latte
it didn't matter
             A candle
it sent my mind back
             A car freshener
to thanksgiving pie
             A chemical illusion
to a time
         filled with
     laughter,
         filled with
     joy,
         filled with
     food.

This perfectly
      magical
  scent would
       send me rushing home

I'd fling
          open
   my door
              catch a
                    whiff of that
                                                elusive
    ­                                       scent

My hands
          would
      shake
           my
     mouth
           would
     water
          tastebuds
    tired
of nothing
             but endless

nuts and yogurt and
nuts and yogurt and
yogurt and nuts and
nuts and yogurt and

Craving
          that
delicious food
that
     danced in my
         dreams, almost
tasting the
     Sweet
     Buttery
     Slice
     of
     one
     Perfect
     Pie.

Only to find an
                             empty
kitchen, a dark
house, a
                             dusty
kitchen, a clean
plate, and

my mom's hopeless eyes
staring
              at
                    the
           ­                  empty
          
                                           ceiling.

There exists a place
you barely remember
where all the children go

A land of sweets,
imagination
sculpted landscape of words

And every child
spends hours there
thinking of things never thought before

But as we grow
inevitably
children forget the candy-powder path

And that wondrous land
is lost in the bittersweet
tide of time, pain

But some adults,
as they blunder though
find their way back to that land

They sink in the candy
cloud meadows, and giggle
at the sugar-spun dragonflies

But some children
as they grow
refuse to leave the peppermint forest

And others see them
thinking, “How strange,
the air around them is sweet.”

I wander there
floating on
lady fingers across coffee seas


And someday I know
you’ll wander back
stumble into the gumdrop farm

I’ll spy you with
my sugar-spy glass
and turn black-licorice sails to shore

And we’ll chase twizzler deer
and marzi-foxes, and
play like we used to

Until that day,
I’ll plan adventures in spearmint fields
until the day you

Remember Me.

One fine day
    About midnight
Two dead soldiers
    Got in a fight.
Back to back
    They faced each other.
Drew their swords
    And shot each other.
A deaf policeman
    Heard the noise.
Came out and
    Killed the two dead boys.
If you don't believe
    This lie it's true.
Ask the blindman
    He saw it too.