Today's the day,
The big one
The prize fight.
4 weeks of intensive training,
religiously practising our art
sleepless nights and drawing boards
anxiety yours, headscratching, mine
have brought us to this fated hour.
This sainted day shall bring a fight
unto vanilla death
but we Jakes men are strong of heart
and you wear your cape of courage well
as we set out with trusted hound
to defend our fortress
and to mock with disdain
the keeps of our rivals.

Take up your arms!
Hold steady...
On my word...
CHARGE!!

Let the sand castle competition begin.

can sense her from a distance
when she moves towards me
till it reaches a crescendo
when she is closest as close could be!

but those times her I badly need
when she moves away
her sounds faint as she recedes
can't all the time with me stay!

how she gives my spirits a lift
her closeness makes my day
do feel pang when she shifts
when she has to go away!

the nearer she is she delights
she must be my perfect mate
I can feel it days and nights
what you call Doppler Effect!

Beads on her forehead
Drops on her cheeks
I love when they’re made
In hot summer weeks!

Some above upper lip
Trickle some down
A few on her nose tip
This hot noon in town!

Beneath flowery parasol
Flushed is her cheek
The shade is just too small
To avert sun’s *****!

I care for nothing more
But the walk beside her
See on her face pour
Streams of summer!

Room 20: Emergency Room

She is lying there,
Barely breathing
With a heart barely beating enough
To keep her alive.
All the tubes, wires, and prayers
Are fueling her soul to hold on.
"Please, don't leave us."
And then,
The sound they've all been dreading.
The endless beeping echo of death
Resounding in a room full of
Regret, anger, and relief.
"She's in a better place now."

Room 22: Stroke

He keeps on saying
He feels better
Ready to go home
100%!
All the while,
His wife's patience is dwindling.
"I'm all he's got now.
I can't leave him."
They're 70 years old,
Married for 45.
45 years and a ruptured artery
A plaque on his heart
And a boxful of God-knows-what drugs
She still holds his hand
Even when her own heart
Is heavy.

Room 24: Cancer

Maria went through three cycles in past the months
Three excruciating cycles of chemotherapy
They tell you the anti-emetics will reduce the side effects.
When you're 65-years old
And all alone,
And cancer is swimming in your veins,
What else do you hold on to?
These are the side effects:
You lie awake at night
Wishing you lived a better life
Wishing you didn't shut everyone out
You should've married
You should've spent more time living
Instead of merely surviving
"You're a survivor."
But what good is surviving when pain comes with it--
The type of pain
No medication
Can take away?

Room 25: Beauty

I am a mother of two.
A boy and girl.
Beautiful
Is what they call me.
I'm looking at my daughter,
And..
And if only I accepted her,
For what she was
For what she wasn't
Then we wouldn't be here.
Tragic
Defiled.
I took her to the Dermatologist
To fix what wasn't broken
She injected her with chemicals
That would heal her
But a horrible allergic reaction ensued.
I should've seen how
Beautiful my baby was.

Room 26: Prostate

Everybody loves him.
Even all his 20 kids
Whose mothers he can barely memorize.
I honestly don't know how many wives he has.
I don't even know how many
He has actually married.
All I know is this:
I am his current wife.
At 71,
His body doesn't work right
anymore.
At 31,
I have needs
He could no longer meet.
But I love him.

Room 27: Not For Admission**

I am dark & desolate
I am hungry
For souls that need shelter
And tears that need hiding
I've seen enough deaths to even care how I'd look.
My paint is almost drying up,
My walls are almost ready
I can't wait for the next story.

She was only 34, so much life left to live
But the CANCER was stronger and just wouldn’t give
It wasn’t detected until it was too late
And so on Sunday she had a date
With the angels above to fly with them high
Now when we want to see her we look to the sky
She looks over her kids from way up above
And they look at her picture with hearts full of love
The CANCER, it beat her and took her away
But now she’s not hurting or trying to be brave
And though we are sad and wondering why
We know she’s our new ANGEL learning to fly.

Forgiveness is a concious decision.
Forgetting a byproduct of time.

Soul Survivor
10W

One day
I want to write a poem
That captures your soul
In the adjectives
Describing the sky

One day
I want to write a sentence
That you will carry
In your memory
Scarred and stained
For an infinity

One day
I want to write a short story
Of a guy
A lot like you
And a girl
A lot like me
With no lies
Only honesty
And a forever that lasted
Just a while

One day
I want to write a paragraph
About the sea in you
And the sea in me
And how we fell in
Each other
And never needed to come up for air

One day
I want to write a dictionary
With all of our own definitions
Of everyone else's words
It will start from the letter Z
And end on A
Because it will be easier
That way

One day
I want to write an essay
On how the sunlight
Made patterns on your skin
Even after you lied
And shadowed the constellations
Screaming honesty
Into the dark

One day
I want to write a novel
About the way your voice
And his voice
Sounded
Just before
You both were about to cry

One day
I want to write lyrics
For the song
I meant to sing to you
About the moon
And the sun
And how they dance
Whenever all of our eyes are closed
Even if it's just for a second
(Light
Always travels faster
Than sound)

One day
I want to write you a telegram
With someone else's hand
To tell you
How much I miss you
And how my heart
Is not in my chest anymore
Really-
It's shattered across the sky
Just for you to see

One day
I want to write you a letter
To tell you
That you didn't know what love is
And neither did I

But
I still love you

I'm a ******
I don't do drugs or drink
my only flaw is how much I think
I don't believe in God but I believe in me
And I don't know where I belong on my family tree

I don't propose that **** is based on a girl's clothes
I suppose I'm dumb or brilliant but who really knows
You could say that I'm narcissistic or have low self-esteem
with a girlfriend with a pocketless pocket and a head full of dreams

Whoa that didn't flow, that last line
Imperfect effort seems to be an attribute of mine
Look at this rhyme scheme, it's so diverse
I guess I can get away with this; I couldn't get any worse
One favorite, three favorite, fifty-four
Give me validation, I could always use some more
Hello, Hellopoetry! You've been so forgiving
of my beautiful poetry that reflects an ugly way of living
Tell me, tell me: Should I write more?
What if my sadness is gone, and my melancholy no more?
Will you still love me if I write about crinkle-cut fries?

"****. No more suicide poems, does this kid still try?"

Is there still a Josh Haines if he no longer cries?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he doesn't wanna die?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he starts to fall?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he gets it all?
Is there still a Josh Haines after every kiss?
Is there still a Josh Haines after he writes all of this?

Eh. Maybe, baby. Maybe.