the music playing
in the back of your mind,
turns into screams
as your day becomes night.

twisted and burning
in your dreams, I can see you fading.
spinning around, crying out
as you fall to your knees.

*no matter what,
when night comes,
the darkness finds me again and again...
and again.

Rainy days warrant wet poetry
A large pond formed in the parking lot
Flash flood warning on my iPhone went off
...I leave work in fifteen minutes.
**** this traffic, thank god for the liquor store.

While the rain washes away the street,
The wine washes away my mind.
Just get me home.

I hear they hoard Picasso’s like diamonds.

Excess is common—
escargot at a diner, Parisian no more,
cheapened slime beneath
industrial grade lighting.

Women
drawn and quartered, all cut up,
chaos-con-cube

hung from the wall of some
split-level apartment
where I hear a man
hanged himself
(and his children might, too*)

Their bitterness
licks at the paint
in ordinary strokes
driving down the value of,
what once was,
a masterpiece.

You would say,
If It were so.
Remind me
To grab a coat,
For the chill and snow.
If cash was tight
We'd be home at night.
If she didn't make the cut,
Forgot her lines,
Or missed the shot,
There was no sugar-coat,
You said it straight
If it were so:
Girls, you're doing fine.
Today is was, not now.
Wait til next time.
If it were so,
You'd say.
So say you love me
One last time,
So I can let you go.

I touch the side of my face
as I shutdown my life,
my cheek is wet...
I stare straight ahead
as the screen goes black.
I sit for a moment
and cry.

I know that I can't be what you want;
  because my heart is absolutely true
  and know I will not give up on you.
  That's why you can't ever love me.

He holds you the same as I would,
  plays and messes with your hair
  just like I would if you were mine.
  Every soft kiss on his lips kills me.

You sit up late and talk with him on the phone;
  just like we used to stay up late and talk
  like that time we spent 24 hours of a weekend
  being in each other's company... just talking...

But you never fell for me the way you fell for him
  or the way you fell for your last boyfriend
  or the one before him, or the one before him.
  Five years. Five boyfriends. None me.

                                                        None love you like me.
    *And that is why you can't ever love me.
                                                 Because you know that I'll stick around
                                      When everything falls apart
                         And try and be your everything
                                                    Be­cause I truly love you
                                             And you fear that love

the Geese across the way have much to say these days
roosting down the shore, The Goose a Celtic sign of the Holy Ghost.
Monotone voices on the radio speak of intercontinental ballistic missiles
a modern sign of Armageddon just around the corner of tomorrow.
I wonder just what it is the Geese are saying, and they say it all together,
then stop mid sentence as one.
The many experts on modern day ills speak in low voices, highlighting the graveness of their messages, in between Hollywood gossip keeps us all interested and listening.
the Geese mate for life, and stay in family groups, and they have no need of missiles, its a shame we do not take a leaf or two out of their book.