It's two in the morning
And quiet as the dead.
I can't get you out
Of my ******* head.
The neighborhood's silent
In my space there's no sound
Save the fan blades
As they motor around.
And here in the silence
Unshakable dread
Because I can't get you
Out of my ******* head.
I just wanna sleep, now
But you just won't let me.
You show up at night
Just to haunt and upset me.
It's not the good memories-
They're mostly dead.
It's the ******* and heartache
That screams in my head.
I'm chemically askew
Eschewed by my slumber
And taller than titans
Your absence does lumber
If I don't get some rest
I'll join you as the dead
And you still won't be out
Of my ******* head.

I wrote a little poem,
I wrote it just for you,
to match the way
You make me feel
I wrote it all in blue.

I wrote it on a napkin,
I had to keep it brief,
I swore a bit,
And cried a bit,
It caused a lot of grief.

I pondered on delivery,
pondered til I was sick,
Then settled on
this method here
I wrapped it round a brick.

The next time that I see you,
In person, with some luck,
I'll remember to
give it to you,
And you'll forget to duck!

I wrote you a letter in Latin, 
But I couldn't read it. 
I admit, I thought the class
Was an easy credit. 
Not the phrases, but my nuance
Needing mending. 
Felt a lie, and I'm not so good
At pretending. 

You just couldn't see the hand
I was extending,
As into the wallpaper
I kept blending.
Perhaps it's my fault, since
I wore that shirt. 
Standing out's the quickest
Way to get hurt. 

But speaking from the diaphragm
I can bellow, 
And orate like some old dead
Roman fellow. 
Standing out and looking 
Like a plain fool
Reciting broken Latin 
Learned in high school. 

My only benediction is
The violence of my voice, 
To compensate the losses of
The silence of my choice
Standing naked 'fore the masses
Flawless Latin being read,
Without the slightest clue as to
What any of it said.

Then you looked at me with pain
In your dark brown eyes, 
When at last,  my folly 
You had realized. 
You said that, though my effort
Brought you much joy,
"Latinas don't speak Latin, 
My dear, dumb boy. "

There're few stories mournful as Reese's,
who, on dynamite, wrote his thesis.
One day, as dawn broke,
he lit up a smoke,
and BOOM!  Now it rains Reese's Pieces.

Wasn't it almost a perfect life?
2 and a half children,
Loving husband and wife...
A little slice of country
With a future so bright?
Wasn't it almost just right?

Wasn't it almost your schoolgirl dream?
Like a Kincaid painting,
Little house by the stream...
Where forever seemed like a real long time,
Wasn't it almost sublime?

Wasn't I almost the hero of this tale?
In my shining armor,
How could I ever fail?
Brave and unshaken, with a will and a plan;
Wasn't I almost your man?

Isn't it almost a beautiful life?
Sometimes you've the pleasure,
At others, the strife.
If I could take it all back
I'd unbreak your heart...
Isn't that almost a good start?

Don't we two hearts oft seem to tread
on common sands?  A common thread
appears to bind with no great dread,
with not a word, between us, said.

The rhythm of your ebb, my flow,
as fate takes us where we might go,
so coincide, suspicions grow-
is there some plot we can't yet know?

Your face I see, in maddened crowd,
with silence that echoes aloud.
If coincidence, I'm wowed-
if cosmic hand, it should be proud.

As subtle as sand on the wake,
who knows where next our waves will break?
Adrift on currents we both take-
The Cosmos makes no such mistake.

She spoke a lot of mercy
Though she hardly knew the word, 
And it echoed in her heart
In the verses she had heard. 

She smiled in spite of logic, 
Braced herself with quiet grace, 
And not a line of worry
Could be seen upon her face.

She sang aloud Amazing Grace, 
And it saw her soul unbound. 
With tear-filled eyes and longing smile
She loved "how sweet the sound".

And though her days were numbered, 
She refused to count and wait. 
She composed herself as though
She had no fear of fate. 

Though gone, never forgotten, 
Every sunrise bears her face.
Her voice is always echoed 
When they sing Amazing Grace.

America is bleeding,
her streets are running red.
They're running out of places
to pile up all the dead.
Uncle Sam is smoking,
pockets fat with oil and gas;
when will Lady Liberty
hold that flame under his ***?

America is bleeding,
a badge stuck in her chest,
can't defend a head wound
behind a kevlar vest.
And Justice wears a blindfold,
but it works kinda funny.
She can see right through it
if you have the money.

America is bleeding,
and now her children see
right on through the smokescreens
into her hypocrisy.
While high atop the flagpole
Old Glory's Stars stained red.
If we don't stop the bleeding,
We're gonna end up dead.

America is bleeding,
her streets are running red.
They're running out of places
to pile up all the dead.
Uncle Sam is smoking,
pockets fat with oil and gas;
when will Lady Liberty
hold that flame under his ***?

America is bleeding,
a badge stuck in her chest,
can't defend a head wound
behind a kevlar vest.
And Justice wears a blindfold,
but it works kinda funny.
She can see right through it
if you have the money.

America is bleeding,
and now her children see
right on through the smokescreens
into her hypocrisy.
While high atop the flagpole
Old Glory's Stars stained red.
If we don't stop the bleeding,
We're gonna end up dead.

A county and a world from here,
an hour on the highway,
a barren, level plot of land
marks where we used to stay.
Though close enough to share the rain,
when skies are turned to gray,
I've found that home to ever be
a million miles away.

The echoes of much simpler times
could ever lead the way,
to look upon that gravel road,
where I learned to work and play,
back before the hands of God
pulled you out of the fray,
and set you on some golden street
a million miles away.

I used to visit all the time,
the place where you now lay,
with roses and whatever words
I felt the need to say.
But chiseled marble memories
are not the ones that stay;
the you I miss is ever more
a million miles away.

If fate shall see the faithless sort
like me to judgment day,
forgive my selfish doubt and bile
and beckon me to stay,
I'll seek your precious company,
I'll have so much to say;
wait for me, and I'll find you there
a million miles away.

But life has seen me shun such hope,
forgetting how to pray.
I wear an air of certain doubt
I can't help but display.
Blessings come, and blessings go,
so very few will stay.
And most, once lost, will ever seem
a million miles away.

If I should fall in love with you
You'll never know my feelings true
I'll keep that **** under my hat
Pretend I don't know where it's at
And silently I'll pine away
Though never in the light of day
Like some lovelorn ethereal ghost
Beneath black skies this love I'll host

I'll glance your way through shaded eyes
And tell myself a million lies
To keep my heart safe and alone
Locked up tight in its cage of bone
Til I am sure the chance has passed
When you've moved on, I'll breath at last
If I should fall in love with you
I'll deny it til we are through.

Today another human
was buried in the dirt,
and other humans gathered round,
and cried because it hurt.
And nothing in the time that he
had spent upon this earth,
could, in those tear-filled mourners' eyes,
diminish that man's worth.

No label he had ever worn
could sway their human hearts.
With no conditions, they loved him,
the sum of all his parts.
Now under six cold feet of ground,
he lies before his time.
And other humans wonder if
the sentence fit the crime.

Another human was his mom,
another was his dad.
Some others still had been his friends
since he was just a lad.
They had laughed and cried with him,
been true through thick and thin.
Now they've thrown handfuls on the box
they buried the man in.

Now the streets are burning-
other humans, filled with rage,
lash out at OTHER humans,
with the city as their stage.
Man and woman, boy and girl,
bear witness what you're seeing-
the aftermath of the wrongful death
of another human being.

Today another human
was buried in the dirt,
and other humans gathered round,
and cried because it hurt.
And nothing in the time that he
had spent upon this earth,
could, in those tear-filled mourners' eyes,
diminish that man's worth.

No label he had ever worn
could sway their human hearts.
With no conditions, they loved him,
the sum of all his parts.
Now under six cold feet of ground,
he lies before his time.
And other humans wonder if
the sentence fit the crime.

Another human was his mom,
another was his dad.
Some others still had been his friends
since he was just a lad.
They had laughed and cried with him,
been true through thick and thin.
Now they've thrown handfuls on the box
they buried the man in.

Now the streets are burning-
other humans, filled with rage,
lash out at OTHER humans,
with the city as their stage.
Man and woman, boy and girl,
bear witness what you're seeing-
the aftermath of the wrongful death
of another human being.

It used to be thrilling to me-
All the **** that was killing me
That i just threw away
Habits trashed so I'd live to see another day
Still I'd pay, I'd even pray
In hopes that it would go away
They say it's a small price to pay
You could live forever living this way
And that's okay
I don't wanna be here anyway-
But i gotta stick around they say
Cause people love me, tell me "stay".
It's not a me thing, i think it's they
Who say the easy route is the coward's way
Now I'm just too tired to play
The game is rigged anyway
I'm on cruise control for another day
Feet on the dashboard, let the wheel sway
And pretend it's all good, but anyway
I've let the world have too much say
Invade my sanctuary, turn my blue to gray
I cling to this fantasy that I'll find my way
In the dark, blindfolded and broken, but anyway
It's all about the facade, me and God are okay
Talked to him for an hour yesterday
Asked him how much longer it'll be this way
He said to **** it up, it's all a joke anyway

When I couldn't see the light,
You would show up with a candle.
Now through darkness I must fight.
Night is something I must handle.

Not just light, but warmth you brought
An arm around me, shared my pain
Such comfort, to this day I've sought
I'd give all to see you again.

When I was young,
I thought that one day
I'd learn to shave my face
and wear a polio brace.
This might seem absurd to you,
but I just thought it's what you do
when you become a man.

My father wore one of his own,
His left leg, withered to the bone,
and Dad was the first man I knew,
so I thought that was just what men do.
He walked with a limp,
but his head held high.
He looked life, no shame,
right in the eye.
He didn't let a moment pass him by,
because that's what men do.

He went to college, and got a degree,
and earned his keep most honestly.
He never asked for charity,
though he said "there's no shame
if you have to."
He was always humble, but not insecure,
of mind and body he was always sure-
for he kept them healthy, kept them pure,
because that's what men do.

He was always smiling, and quick as a whip,
his dinner parties were always a trip-
watching him and his guests exchange quips;
he was the funniest guy they knew.
And if a loved one was down and out,
he was the first one there, without doubt.
He said you should never let one do without,
because that's what men do.

He had a strong mind, and the heart of a bear,
He faced even tragedy with savoir faire
But his strong calm demeanor didn't hide his care,
The world knew his heart was true.
He stayed faithfully by my mother's side,
as the cancer took her and she slowly died,
I understood, when he finally cried,
that that is what men do.

I grew up and learned how to shave my face,
but not before Dad went to a "better place".
Still, til his last breath, he faced life with grace,
with a smile on his face, and a polio brace,
because that's what men do.

It's a quiet little love,
Doesn't have a lot to say,
But it works its quiet magic
Without penance, everyday.
It listens without judgment,
It shares both joy and pain,
It never hides itself away
When sunshine turns to rain.

The movements are so subtle
That she oft forgets it's there;
still it moves to lift her spirits
Any time and anywhere.
It's not what she's been looking for
But when push comes to shove,
She'll find a certain comfort in
That quiet little love.

The wind won't blow,
And it won't rain, 
And I can't see the moon. 
No crickets chirp
Or whippoorwill
Or solitary loon. 
Just me beneath
A silent sky
That light dare not impune 
A loneliness
Consuming me
I pray this passes soon.

Come stand beside me,
I don't want to rule the world.
We're all just passing through
Til the final thread's unfurled
But for now, just stand beside me
We'll find some place to hide
and shine down dimly on the world
From some secret hillside.
We'll be a star
Giving warmth and light
And taking a little of the
fear out of the night...

This mess will still be here
About that make no mistake
But maybe just for a moment in time
We need to take a break.
We need to stand in the rain,
and not think about the storm;
to know the cold is still there,
but focus on the warm;
to separate self from self,
and mind from thought, and heart from ache;
So come and stand beside me,
and a deep breath we will take.

Let's hurry off to nowhere,
we'll get there just in time,
and let the whole world melt away
just let the whole world stay away
we don't need it, just for today...
let the real world fade away.

It matters not that years may pass
and take with them parts of us,
or age may sneak across our faces
and throw us under the bus.
Still seemingly a sculpture
or an ageless nursery rhyme,
you hang there, art for soul displayed
beyond the touch of time.

I witnessed as you robbed me
of attention elsewhere spent.
You blossomed like a cherry tree,
and I lied to mask intent
A craving for a fresh Spring love,
that very tree to climb,
and to swing there, from your branches
beyond the touch of time.

I wanted you like Summertime,
I reveled in your heat.
The long, hot days turned into nights
Where I sought to compete
to bask there in your sunlight...
I'd spend my final dime
To ride the sky with you, like stars,
beyond the touch of time.

I fell for you like fiery leaves,
carried forth on Autumn wind,
and dried up on the forest floor
A season, there to spend,
Nestled in your deep laid roots,
it should have been a crime
To fade away as you stood there
beyond the touch of time.

I loved you like a blizzard,
but you came across as salt
Melting me to clear the way
through my wintry assault.
Yet danced around me like a flake,
held aloft by the sublime,
and hung there in the frozen air
beyond the touch of time.

Full circle, and full cycle,
the revolution's done.
In the aftermath, the epilogue,
it's hard to say who won.
I still see you, through the seasons
and you live on like a rhyme,
written upon  infinity,
beyond the touch of time.

It matters not that years may pass
and take with them parts of us,
or age may sneak across our faces
and throw us under the bus.
Still seemingly a sculpture
or an ageless nursery rhyme,
you hang there, art for soul displayed
beyond the touch of time.

I witnessed as you robbed me
of attention elsewhere spent.
You blossomed like a cherry tree,
and I lied to mask intent
A craving for a fresh Spring love,
that very tree to climb,
and to swing there, from your branches
beyond the touch of time.

I wanted you like Summertime,
I reveled in your heat.
The long, hot days turned into nights
Where I sought to compete
to bask there in your sunlight...
I'd spend my final dime
To ride the sky with you, like stars,
beyond the touch of time.

I fell for you like fiery leaves,
carried forth on Autumn wind,
and dried up on the forest floor
A season, there to spend,
Nestled in your deep laid roots,
it should have been a crime
To fade away as you stood there
beyond the touch of time.

I loved you like a blizzard,
but you came across as salt
Melting me to clear the way
through my wintry assault.
Yet danced around me like a flake,
held aloft by the sublime,
and hung there in the frozen air
beyond the touch of time.

Full circle, and full cycle,
the revolution's done.
In the aftermath, the epilogue,
it's hard to say who won.
I still see you, through the seasons
and you live on like a rhyme,
written upon  infinity,
beyond the touch of time.

Today I cried, my heart is rent
For somebody I didn't know.
And for the fact that, nowadays,
They say "that's just the way things go".

A man was slain without just cause,
An officer behind the gun;
And instantly, divided we
Debate justice, where there is none.

Regardless of public record,
The man was slain for not one sin-
He died because of ignorance.
He died because of his dark skin.

The officer might go to trial,
And just as likely, he'll go free.
And we'll be told "respect the cops,
They're here for their community."

We didn't say much that night,
but the silence loudly spoke.
We were burning moonlight
watching it go up in a puff of smoke.
We both felt the fire,
but it couldn't last long.
For one of us or the other
the heat would soon be gone.
There was no fear, just separation;
the night bore a connotation
of terminal proportions,
and an impending self-condemnation.
Awash there in the silence,
watching the night hang overhead,
we sat, as though watching kin
slowly slipping away in their deathbed.
Like, we know that it's coming,
there's no impending sense of dread.
We'll say a prayer and throw some flowers
Then both sleep in our own separate bed.
We almost force a smile
when our eyes meet.
It takes a while of trying
Before we both look back at our feet.
Still, she leans into me,
Closes her eyes against my shoulder.
The only warmth left between us
So I wrap her up and hold her
and we sit there,
cloaked in the waning night.
The clouds have blanketed the stars
and we've burned up all the moonlight.

We didn't say much that night,
but the silence loudly spoke.
We were burning moonlight
watching it go up in a puff of smoke.
We both felt the fire,
but it couldn't last long.
For one of us or the other
the heat would soon be gone.
There was no fear, just separation;
the night bore a connotation
of terminal proportions,
and an impending self-condemnation.
Awash there in the silence,
watching the night hang overhead,
we sat, as though watching kin
slowly slipping away in their deathbed.
Like, we know that it's coming,
there's no impending sense of dread.
We'll say a prayer and throw some flowers
Then both sleep in our own separate bed.
We almost force a smile
when our eyes meet.
It takes a while of trying
Before we both look back at our feet.
Still, she leans into me,
Closes her eyes against my shoulder.
The only warmth left between us
So I wrap her up and hold her
and we sit there,
cloaked in the waning night.
The clouds have blanketed the stars
and we've burned up all the moonlight.

I fell in love with candlelight-
in my darkness, she shone so bright.
She danced the breeze, lit up the night,
her glow consumed my very sight.

But wax and wick both burn away,
and candlelight just cannot stay.
As sure as night turns into day,
that fickle flame will go astray.

But for a moment, through the storm,
she lit my world, she kept me warm,
then flickered out, as is the norm
for candlelight, its fleeting form.

I fell in love with candlelight,
for but a moment, all was right.
Her glow, her dance, consumed my sight,
and faded out at end of night.

I fell in love with candlelight-
in my darkness, she shone so bright.
She danced the breeze, lit up the night,
her glow consumed my very sight.

But wax and wick both burn away,
and candlelight just cannot stay.
As sure as night turns into day,
that fickle flame will go astray.

But for a moment, through the storm,
she lit my world, she kept me warm,
then flickered out, as is the norm
for candlelight, its fleeting form.

I fell in love with candlelight,
for but a moment, all was right.
Her glow, her dance, consumed my sight,
and faded out at end of night.

We all used to be cannibals.
We tore flesh with our mandibles.
Times were hard for neanderthals.
Kinda men but still animals.

Did we still mourn those that were gone
as we were gnawing on the bone?
Behold the upright hairless dawn,
the greatest beasts this world has known.

Even back then, it took gumption
to prep beloved for consumption.
Grief gave pause, but safe assumption,
hunger led to feast's resumption.

Fast forward to the present day,
the greatest beasts still have their way.
As in that ancient yesterday,
upon the weak and ill they prey.

It's dog-eat-dog. Life's a mother,
til beneath the dirt we smother.
We're all cannibals, my brother-
feeding off of one another.

We all used to be cannibals.
We tore flesh with our mandibles.
Times were hard for neanderthals.
Kinda men but still animals.

Did we still mourn those that were gone
as we were gnawing on the bone?
Behold the upright hairless dawn,
the greatest beasts this world has known.

Even back then, it took gumption
to prep beloved for consumption.
Grief gave pause, but safe assumption,
hunger led to feast's resumption.

Fast forward to the present day,
the greatest beasts still have their way.
As in that ancient yesterday,
upon the weak and ill they prey.

It's dog-eat-dog. Life's a mother,
til beneath the dirt we smother.
We're all cannibals, my brother-
feeding off of one another.

What's at the end of the rainbow?
I tell you my brother, I know.
I saw one across the meadow,
and I knew that I had to go.

I went with a heart of wonder,
bright as the arc I was under,
I marveled at fading thunder,
clouds as they drifted asunder.

My spirit was lighter than air,
my mind had but only one care,
to follow that colorful glare,
to what's at the end of it, there.

The closer I got, I would sing,
my steps would pick up a fresh spring,
when I get there, my heart takes wing,
as I find there...


Not a ****** thing.

Some folks aren't thirsty
til there's a line at the fountain.

What glorious chance
That the best bits of stardust
Should coalesce here
With red-hair-blue-eyes
And burn the loneliness
From my soul

I'm a cosmic wanderer
I don't belong here
Stardust stuck to a ball of dirt
I don't remember the fall
Or the trip at all,
So the impact must've hurt.
Now here I stand
On hostile sand
The weak all feed the strong.
A cosmic wanderer, I am
Stuck somewhere I don't belong.

Crazy?
Maybe. Possibly.
In spite of what crazy's costing me
I can see no reason NOT to be
just a little bit crazy.
It takes a lot to amaze me,
but I'm amazed for days
at the level of insanity
disguised as vanity
that I see, individually portioned
smothered in bigotry and
dispensed freely, thumped
out of various ancient tomes
and called Sovereignty.
Crazy?
I was crazy once.
Invited Jim Jones out to lunch,
and I threw him a couple bones
dared him to spike the punch.
And his reply was hazy,
like a busted eight ball.
Something told me that guy was crazy.
But what was really gone
was how they all gathered on the lawn
to egg him on. Didn't dawn
that they were going to go
too far til they were gone.
Nobody caught on.
Crazy?
Yeah, just a little bit.
I'm what happens when the fan
hits the ****.
I've hit this **** and that, a bit,
and held the smoke of a thousand
miscreant rips, scales tipped
til we slipped out of the tray,
a gram shy but well on our way.
Hey, put that **** away,
the NSA is on the phone today,
and they hear you coughing,
keep coughing that way
and they're going to put you away
in Guantanemo Bay,
and there you'll stay,
for forever and a day,
or until you roll doubles,
or have the money to pay.
Monopolizing the cheap properties
with new hotels every day.
Crazy?
That's a matter of opinion
and in this day and age
opinion is public dominion.
Digitized before our eyes
and with a simple keystroke
we've broken the fourth wall,
and every imaginable flaw
has come to be our downfall,
gliding through reality
at breakneck speeds
then crashing into the firewall,
before we fall, right down
into the cold, hard ground
around the feet of what used
to be called discretion,
that is now open confession
coupled with cries for attention,
but don't mention criticism,
that's a schism! and we all want
to go down in flames together,
thick as a brick, but brains like a feather.
Crazy?
Yeah, but what can you do?
Look inside your mind,
I bet you're a little crazy too.
We're all just outright animals
in this ***** human zoo.
I'm a **** chimp, it's true,
I ain't monkeying around with you.
Just chilling, killing time,
instilling madness in the rhyme
to keep my mind refined
or just stick a finger in it from behind
stroke the cortex, bless it all,
now I'm blind!
I must be out of my mind.
It was a mistake to think
I could take a headache
out without some serious
long term repercussions.
No more discussions, as I've
left myself with a fingerprint
and a concussion.
I'm feeling a little lazy...
Crazy?

Why yes, utterly

Will you meet me at the river,
where the waters lap the sand?
We can find a place to sit, since,
I'll be far too tired to stand.

You made it there before I did,
so many long years ago.
Along my way I lost the path,
without you here, the way to show.

I wandered, lost, once you were gone,
somewhere amidst hurt and denial.
Before I realized I was lost,
I'd been that way for quite a while.

I've tried to find that old, green path,
but signs of it are out of sight-
as if the daylight never shone,
and you carried the only light.

But I know where the river runs,
and I will get there, by and by-
if I must carve my own, new path,
I know I can, if I but try.

So find a little shady spot,
where we can sit and pass the time.
We'll catch up on the days we lost,
and laugh at life's unending rhyme.

Until the specters fade from sight,
we'll count no moment there a loss.
Then hold my hand, as I descend
to Judgment's waters, there to cross.

Standing clinched-fists in the rubble of good intentions, with the blood of my own soul under my fingernails, I look forward-
not to the ******, but to the end.

If I should see the sunset soon
My life drawn to a close
There's little I would fret about
As far as my past goes. 
No place or plot unwrought would I
Dare look back on with dread
I'd fill my final thoughts on earth
With your sweet face instead. 

No earthly woe or unsung verse
Could burden me on death.
Rather I would speak your name
Even with my last breath
Such ending would befit my life
When my time here is through
No better way to wrap it up
Than rapt in thoughts of you.

If I should see the sunset soon
My life drawn to a close
There's little I would fret about
As far as my past goes.
No place or plot unwrought would I
Dare look back on with dread
I'd fill my final thoughts on earth
With your sweet face instead.

No earthly woe or unsung verse
Could burden me on death.
Rather I would speak your name
Even with my last breath
Such ending would befit my life
When my time here is through
No better way to wrap it up
Than rapt in thoughts of you.

She has a luminescence about her
A way of outshining the neon and fluorescent
That cling to her curves as she dances beneath them
I stood there, in my second-hand persona,
wearing a mask of bravado, now whimsical with
its mouth agape, staring as she made love to the music.
I recollected myself,
remembered to breathe,
swallowed my heart,
and dared to move closer.

The rhythmic pulse of the music
threatened to crush me as my feet touched the floor-
my head still in the cloud generated by her heat,
that permeated every molecule of my body.
The closer I got, the harder it was to keep
from succumbing to the lack of air.
"Remember to breathe.
You're sweating.
Abort. NO.
Play it cool. You're cool."

I could have pieced together
A thousand words, pulled from the ether
and crafted into exactly-what-she-wanted-to-hear,
But she had taken my air.
My tongue wouldn't move with my lips
To form a simple hello.
I just stood there in my mask.
No longer whimsical.
Nearly desperate
and certain that I would die right there.

Then, in a move that writes love songs,
that creates sunsets and shifts paradigms,
SHE, this caramel-skinned goddess
Wove her warm, illuminated fingers into mine
And pulled me into that dance
That she was sharing only with the music.
Not breathing again.
Keep moving.
Stop thinking.
Just be. Right now, just be.

So, I was. Dead to time and space,
alive to the moment and the music,
Her touch, the light and the curves.
She held to me as if she read my mind;
perhaps I wear my heart in my eyes.
Eyes that she seemed to pull my soul out of
To drown it in hers, as she danced
With me.
To me. Through me.
Beyond me.
But with me, as though I were the light and the music,
and she wasn't done making love.

With the very last ounce of strength
its tiny, broken body brings,
it takes one final shot at life,
and slowly, once more, ***** its wings.

I've always struggled with tomorrow
Because I'm stuck on yesterday.
If I had some time to borrow
I'd probably **** it all away.
Because I'm lost here in the present
Afraid that all the best has passed.
It's hard to think about the future
With how long "nowadays" could last.

I've never struggled for the right words
But all too often used the wrong
I tend to sing out with bravado
Not knowing one word of the song
As causes go, I am a lost one,
I'm lack of reason, weight of rhyme...
I'll hit the chords with broken echoes
And fail to ever keep the time.

If I was still the sort to wish on stars
I'd find the one of deepest blue,
And I'd beg it with my everything
To bring my broken heart to you.
But stars, they seldom hear the wishes
Of men who chase their dreams away
And here in "many years ago", my dear,
Is no place you should have to stay.

On the clearest of nights,
when the moon is new,
I like to lie on my back
in the grass and dirt.
I'll close my eyes, and
lie there, silent,
feeling the wind roll over me
timing my breathing with
the dance between breeze and grass,
keeping meter with the song they play.
Then, I feel the earth against my back.
I stretch my arms
as   wide   as     I    can...
and, palms down,
I hold the world on my back.
I try to feel the weight of it
on my shoulders.
I think of the size of this
hot ball of rock and water.
I feel the heaviness of
all of its inhabitants.
I feel their slightest vibrations-
baby steps
that move mountains-
shaping the landscape
and changing the destiny of this
ball of dirt.
I feel it living.
At the same time, I feel it dying.
It's an endless cycle
Of beautiful, precious life
in terminal doses.
I think of all this,
behind my back,
on my shoulders,
until I feel that the weight of it all
will surely crush me.
In that moment, I open my eyes
And look up at the clear,
moonless sky, and see
a sea of stars,
burning brighter than normal
as they pierce the darkness,
the illusion of the world on my shoulders.
As I stare into the cosmos,
the reality of this little ball of rock
is lifted from my back.
What was, moments ago,
the heaviest object in the universe,
was now tiny, when set against infinity.
I finally stand, and smile,
having successfully
thrown the planet back into space.

On the clearest of nights,
when the moon is new,
I like to lie on my back
in the grass and dirt.
I'll close my eyes, and
lie there, silent,
feeling the wind roll over me
timing my breathing with
the dance between breeze and grass,
keeping meter with the song they play.
Then, I feel the earth against my back.
I stretch my arms
as   wide   as     I    can...
and, palms down,
I hold the world on my back.
I try to feel the weight of it
on my shoulders.
I think of the size of this
hot ball of rock and water.
I feel the heaviness of
all of its inhabitants.
I feel their slightest vibrations-
baby steps
that move mountains-
shaping the landscape
and changing the destiny of this
ball of dirt.
I feel it living.
At the same time, I feel it dying.
It's an endless cycle
Of beautiful, precious life
in terminal doses.
I think of all this,
behind my back,
on my shoulders,
until I feel that the weight of it all
will surely crush me.
In that moment, I open my eyes
And look up at the clear,
moonless sky, and see
a sea of stars,
burning brighter than normal
as they pierce the darkness,
the illusion of the world on my shoulders.
As I stare into the cosmos,
the reality of this little ball of rock
is lifted from my back.
What was, moments ago,
the heaviest object in the universe,
was now tiny, when set against infinity.
I finally stand, and smile,
having successfully
thrown the planet back into space.

I do a little ditty, a little ditty-doo,
A finger-snappin'-somethin'
That I dittied just for you.
It may not be an anthem,
A ballad for the times,
It may not be the bestest words
Or have the slickest rhymes.
It won't make sense or flow so well
Or tell a lovely tale,
And if you seek inspiration-
Sad to say, it's sure to fail.
But still I did the little ditty,
Little ditty I did do,
And typed it up for giggles
And put it here for you...
And if you find my ditty
poorly made or lacking class,
Rest assured, this poetic ****
Was pulled straight out of my...

One nation under assault,
one nation under pressure,
one nation claiming greatness against 
an outdated measure.
With liberty and justice stockpiled commodities
and legions of disgruntled youth
left to deal with the atrocities.
One nation under-loved
One nation over-policed
One nation claiming Jesus
wearing the tell-tale mark of the beast.
With hate in the left hand, and hate in the right,
and both hands balled up like we're dying to fight.
A New Day, they call this perpetual night
This suffocating darkness that chokes out the light
And EVERYBODY THINKS THAT THEIR SIDE IS RIGHT.

One nation underwhelmed by the policies they chose
One hypocrisy of a democracy, calling their own stink a rose
One thing after another, no wonder the kids are cynics now,
thinking "You CAN'T make it better, WE don't know how."
Love is lost in the struggle between apathy and hate
America, the beautiful. America, the great.
America, the fractured paragon, 
We cling to ghosts of a changing time
We've fallen for the distractions, and
our pedestal is too high to climb.

Oh brothers, oh sisters, what else can we do?
If you'll look out for me, and I look out for you,
just a ripple in this pool of ****
may clear the waters, just a bit.
But as long as there are white votes
black votes
Latino votes
left votes
right votes
there'll be no vote of confidence 
in the future of these divided states.
We'll rip ourselves apart,
tear out our own heart
waving our flags the whole time
and claiming no blame for the divide.
God Bless America,
and do it quick.
All sides of this society
are dying or sick.

One nation under assault,
one nation under pressure,
one nation claiming greatness against
an outdated measure.
With liberty and justice stockpiled commodities
and legions of disgruntled youth
left to deal with the atrocities.
One nation under-loved
One nation over-policed
One nation claiming Jesus
wearing the tell-tale mark of the beast.
With hate in the left hand, and hate in the right,
and both hands balled up like we're dying to fight.
A New Day, they call this perpetual night
This suffocating darkness that chokes out the light
And EVERYBODY THINKS THAT THEIR SIDE IS RIGHT.

One nation underwhelmed by the policies they chose
One hypocrisy of a democracy, calling their own stink a rose
One thing after another, no wonder the kids are cynics now,
thinking "You CAN'T make it better, WE don't know how."
Love is lost in the struggle between apathy and hate
America, the beautiful.  America, the great.
America, the fractured paragon,
We cling to ghosts of a changing time
We've fallen for the distractions, and
our pedestal is too high to climb.

Oh brothers, oh sisters, what else can we do?
If you'll look out for me, and I look out for you,
just a ripple in this pool of ****
may clear the waters, just a bit.
But as long as there are white votes
black votes
Latino votes
left votes
right votes
there'll be no vote of confidence
in the future of these divided states.
We'll rip ourselves apart,
tear out our own heart
waving our flags the whole time
and claiming no blame for the divide.
God Bless America,
and do it quick.
All sides of this society
are dying or sick.

It's hard here on the ground floor, surrounded by the street.
The scenery a still-frame, a cell set to repeat.
But I don't see your colors now, that patch of blue's gone gray
I hear your laugh cut through the crash of just another day
Time, again, finds us alone...
in the crushing nothingness of the crowds
I just want it to be gone
Want to shed my shadows among the clouds

It's quiet here in the recent past, reliving a silent beat,
An echo too weak to distinguish, yet still moving the Earth beneath my feet.
Still the subtlety's hard to decipher, the nuance is lost in the stroke
I numb any phantoms that linger, the world is cloud of smoke.
And time and again, it pulls me through
Running headfirst into hell.
Full circle, it seems, in whatever I do
Stopping just this side of well.

It's fleeting here in so-called prime of this distraction known as living
And I haven't asked for more than I have, but I'm taking what they're giving.
A single spark in the midst of a fire doesn't seem to warm the soul
But that same small flame can change the game if you add a little coal
We're hardened now, by time and heat
The pressure's always on
But maybe, when our time's complete
We'll be diamonds before we're gone.

There was a guy named Larry,
who lived in Little Rock.
He liked to spend his afternoons
with both hands on his

Custom motorcycle-
that he kept full of gas.
He liked to ride to downtown bars
and take it up the

alleyways, real slowly,
and give a little grunt,
in hopes some lady of the night
just might give him some

competent directions,
to a place that doesn't ****.
A place where all the waitresses
are always down to

Fill your drinks more quickly,
and bring you extra bread.
Quick and super-friendly, and
prepared to give you

heavy, double portions,
and charm you with her wits.
When she leans across the table,
you really see her

Trying hard to please you,
and serve you as you dine.
If you're ordering a combo,
she'll suggest the 69!


(That's the beef with broccoli, you pervert.)

I woke up today, and the Earth was still turning.  The sky is still up, my home is still here... the world, in all its splendor, still hangs silently in its little corner of eternity.

People are angry, spouting all kinds of vile words towards their fellow man.  They doubt their place in the world.  Yet, the world keeps turning.

People are scared.  They don't have power, and it's getting colder.  They don't know when things will get better, they just hope it happens before it's too late.  Still, the world keeps turning.

People are sick and dying.  People are losing loved ones.  They're incarcerated, they're unemployed, they're in trouble...  They're staring down the end, they're staring down death.  Things are tough all over.

But the world keeps turning.  It turned for eons without us here, and when we are all gone, it will keep on turning.  All empires rise and fall within its revolutions.  Any mark we leave on it will be lost to time and tide eventually.  Many hundreds of thousands of years passed without us and many more will pass after our departure.
So think REALLY HARD about our place here.  In the grand scheme of things, we're a really small part of the story of this planet.  You can choose to believe that it doesn't turn without you, that it is "the end of the world" when things aren't going according to YOUR plan.

You have a brief time on this planet.  Spend it on love, not hate.  Spend it helping, not hurting.  Spend it reaching out, not retreating inward; because after all, we're here for but a few breaths... why waste them?

Nary a **** was given that day,
as the writer decided to fade away.
He tightened the rope, and whispered a prayer,
and took that final step off the chair.

Folks mostly wondered "What was he ON?"
Rumors and whispers, all when it was done,
but he wasn't "human", and now he was gone,
and no **** was given- no, not a ****** one.

When it's slow,
when it's quiet,
my mind grabs a shovel
and digs up things
that I keep trying to bury.