its so much easier for us to sit here and pretend that we dont need one another
or that the waves dont crash against the shore
or that the moon doesnt rise at night
isnt it?
but
the waves do crash against the shore
and the moon does rise at night
and its inevitable that we need each other
like the shore needs the touch of the waves
and how the empty sky needs the light of the moon

I’m a terrible conductor who’s lost his train of thought.

“Stool sample….????
I’ll see what I have at my bar.”

If you love to race, are you considered a racist?

I use my left brain to make the right choices.

Let’s call it teethpaste. I have more than one tooth.

I like to push the envelope until it pushes back.

“What type of writer are you?”  I replied, “A typewriter.”

Bear traveling from north to south is a bipolar bear.

He easily cracked under pressure.  He was just so eggstrasensitive.

Rules are constantly broken; they will probably develop severe arthritis.

If you ever feel the need,
To take a step away,
And drift into the passion,
I'll be here

If you ever feel the want,
To slip you sole-less shoes,
With soft grass at our toes,
Hold me in your arm and dance,
I'll be there

Flee into the mountains,
Steal a night away,
Share a kiss for every star,
And forget it's just for play,
We'll be there

Let the sunlight guide you dear,
Through my soft hair,
Let my hands slide through yours,
To make a perfect pair

There is no future,
If there isn't any time,
Close your soft gray eyes,
As I kindly introduce,
Your heart to mine

she let her blunt hang lazily between tight lips
i loved the way the smoke smelled as she exhaled
she couldnt resist calling me names she had made up for me
i cant say i mind that she calls me what she pleases.

sleep still in the corners of her eyes as she crawls out of bed
she could never know just how beautiful she is to me
underneath her false nails & eyelashes
lies a mysterious cavern waiting to be explored.

reluctant fingertips collide with her hips as we first kiss
how long have we been waiting for this, my dear?
delayed conversation carries on deep into the hours of the night
better late than never, i suppose.

120 hours, 7200 minutes, 43200 seconds until I have to leave again.

120 hours, 7200 minutes, 43200 seconds to make you fall in love with me.

120 hours, 7200 minutes, 43200 seconds to make up for all the lost time.

i asked her "where have you been all my life?"
the corners of her lips curled upward with her reply
"ive been waiting right here for you darling"
with sincerity in her eyes.

oh, but, lover... my innocence has come & gone
i ask you please refrain from abandoning me too.
for i must admit;
ive grown quite fond of you.

as i make my way back from California
like driftwood floating along the river
i smile & wave goodbye to you, my sweet
all though i know it is no consolation

you cant understand why i had to go
but there are many reasons i cant stay home

so as our last hour comes to an end
do not say farewell, my love, ill be back again

I've done lots of damage being sober is me resting my ego
I do get the courage urge to drink but I'm stronger than this addiction
It's for the weak so I don't want to be submissive
I can't and won't go back dealing with anger and frustration is hard but able to cope with makes life easy
I get the urge to fight but in the spirit of competition I want to get better and be better at the sport. I do the conditioning and training I want to be a ranked contender. I hate training for no reason to me there's a reason for everything.

She said, "They use to call me busy-body, now I'm just a no-body,"
as I stroll up, headphones to unplug, to sit and wait for buses of school children to come up.
Feeling kind of broke of a sort that wont shut down, inside I'm meaning, reeling for home unfound.
Prospecting, working, commish here and there, "case management" on my case breathing till no air.
Looking and ardently searching for something that's not there, a plain jane job, to just give room for air.
Plans on paper, sound right in my head, but seem less and less practical in practice of what's read.

"Help? Daddy has a headache and sickness with no want to help baby,"
as she fashions a meal from play food in a play kitchen to make me feel better.
But I wont sit at her table, I wont play with her dolls, not today, when I've got the world at my *****,
biting and stabbing me in the back of my brain,
no, now I'll just put on a movie and try and sleep for a change.

"I love you's" are exchanged as I cover my head,
and the ultimate weight that is me lies in my bed.
Troubled, down, pierced by the bad negative points of life,
I'll rise later again looking for a "re-set" button to make alright,
while she sets the table with guests to an imaginary meal
cooked to perfection in hopes to change the way Daddy feels.