My wife she upped and left me
She left our child as well
Needed to find herself she said
She left a putrid smell
I tried to keep my sanity
I counted empty days
I thought about my rival
I killed him many ways
And when she came a calling
she said it wasn't me
I asked her who the ******* was
But the ******* was a SHE
So now I'm fIlled with anger
for my little boy and me
No one for my fists to pound
Because HE is a SHE!

The phrase "collateral damage"
is used so not to cause offense
to desensitize the public
'bout the ****** of innocents

We're spoonfed daily numbers
of those who won't come back
but for innocent civilians killed
we dont bother keeping track

Because they're "collateral damage"
a nameless faceless entity
so easy to ignore
if they don't look like you and me

But when the shoe is on the other foot
and our innocents get killed
we put pictures in the papers
and monuments we build

Have we really sunk so far
as not to comprehend
that "collateral damage" means people,
and that war just has to end.

If poetry is art, then what form should it take?
Is ignoring things like layout the cause of my mistake.

You see to me a poem should be heard before its seen
Its an audio based art form, using sound to express its theme

So when I write my poems, and lay them on the page
I do so as if they're spoken by an actor on a stage.

Now I see some other poets, who lay it out so pretty
But when I try and read it, its disjointed and bitty

So again I ask my question, if your poems meant to rhyme
should you really break your verses in the middle of a line?

See I don't only write poetry, I like to read it too
so when a layout trips me up, I want to say to you

Why do that your reader, why get them on that train
only to pull the cord and get them off and on again

A poem is a journey, I should sit back and take a ride
not trip and stumble frequently over messages you hide.

So next time you write a poem, with more focus on the look
Go down to library and get a calli-graphy book.

Remember how it used to be,
when we would go outside,
and hang out with folks in person?
But now we stay inside.

We used to write each other letters,
with paper, pen and ink.
Once delivered you would read it,
then write back with what you think.

And remember in the old days,
when you could just be "out"?
And things could wait for your return,
there was never any doubt.

But now if we're unreachable,
then something must be wrong.
'Cos everything is urgent,
our time to us does not belong.

Well I don't know bout the rest of you,
but I miss the olden days.
They used to be less stressful,
better in many ways.

So I think I'll turn my cellphone off,
and shut my Facebook down.
Write letters to those friends of mine
who don't live in this town

But I think my plan might hit a snag
there's something that I lack
I don't know where these people live
and they probl'y wont write back

So I guess I have a choice to make
tell me, what would you do?
Would you give your address to me,
so I could write to you?

So you want me to work late again,
because you're understaffed.
Yet everyone else in this place,
is sat upon their ***.

I work twice as hard as everyone,
while they just coast along.
Yet you come to me each weekend,
and sing me the same song.

You say its because I'm good,
which I guess makes the others bad
You try and stroke my ego
do you think that I'm that sad

Well sorry boss but I got plans
so no can do this time
Perhaps you can get one of them
to tow the company line.

Of course they do not want to
what made you think they would
They don't have to give their weekend up
but for some reason I should?

Well like I said I'm busy
got me some stuff to do
Dont worry, while I'm at the beach
I'll be thinkin' of you.

So you think you want to fall in love
did I hear you right?
What's wrong with being happy
are you yearning for a fight?

Cynical, who me?
Is that really what you think?
Just because I'm a little bruised
and flushed two marriages down the sink

But seriously all jokes aside
when loves new there's nothing better
but when it starts to hit the fan
you'd think we would know better.

His eyes so full were old with shattered dreams
What empty tears those eyes had never shed
His stoic heart held abundant pride within
comfort was in vain for all was dead

he travelled life and slaughtered every feeling
he built a wall that strength could never mark
How could i ever try to understand
You see my skin is white while his is dark.

Hey there, are you new here?
So how come we never met?
Me, I'm always late for work
No matter which alarm I set

So tell me whats your name?
I'm Heloise, sorry, you go first.
After Heloise the writer,
hey you were close, could have been worse.

I'm soaked I wasn't thinking,
we were gonna get some rain.
And in the rush to get the bus,
I dropped my fare right down the drain.

You look like you walked miles.
You must be soaked through to the skin.
I am a waitress at Dukes Diner.
You should try us, come on in.

So how come I haven't seen you,
Are we talking the same place?
Cos I'm sure I would remember,
such a handsome face.

Say what time is it you come in?
Because I get a break at two.
I could come and join you in the park,
if thats ok with you?

How about tomorrow?
Are sure that its ok?
I dont want to be too pushy,
If its not ok just say.

Ok so now I'm blushing.
Are you sure that you dont mind?
You are? I know, I'm rushing,
But it works the best I find.

Who me?
No I've lived here all along.
Well I leave here kinda early,
and my days are kinda long.

My name?
oh its Andy, sorry, didn't catch yours,
oh really like the singer,
oh, yeah, writer, of course.

Soaked? Yeah me too.
When I left it didn't look bad,
and of course when the suns out,
you can, always, get a cab.

No not that far just a block or two,
that bank on 4th and 9...
Oh really? Round the corner?
Yeah, no I eat there all time.

Well, no, you're always busy,
but yeah I've seen you there.
I tend to just grab take out though,
go to the park and get some air.

Well whenever I like really,
there is no special time.
Around two? Yeah I'd like that.
Lets just hope the weathers fine.

Ok then, til tomorrow.
No really not at all...
I would have said something eventually.
Just, not here in the hall.

No please don't be embarrassed,
I'm really glad you did.
Saved me getting tongue tied,
and feeling like a kid.

If Monday were a poem
it would be short and terse
Disorganised and cluttered
not a friendly little verse

If Tuesday were a poem
much better it would fare
Over the words that went within
I'd be inclined to care

If Wednesday were a poem
it would be full of hope
the week is halfway over and
we climb back down the rope

If Thursday were a poem
looking forward it would be
dreaming of the weekend
and the joys that it will see

If Friday were a poem
t'would be happy, bright and gay
for work is finally over
and now its time to play

If Saturday was poetry
as frequently it is
Then I would sit alone and write
A poem such as this

But Sundays where this poem
comes to a natural end
For tomorrow will be Monday
and it will start again.

This is the hardest letter
I've ever had to write
knowing as I sit here
you may not make it through the night

I love you oh so very much
and know you are in pain
all I want and nothing more
is to see you well again

But what I want
has made me blind
the truth I cannot hide
your time with us will soon be up
as god takes you to his side

So here I sit and write my thoughts
in a letter you'll never read
because writing is what i do best
after you planted the seed

I remember as a little boy
we would talk into the night
I would make up poems and stories
that you encouraged me to write

So it seems only fitting
as I sit here well past two
that I should write this letter
and give my thanks to you

I love you
and I will miss you...

we sent our soldiers off to war
trained to fight and fire a gun
if only we could train them
to deal with what they've done

no matter what the cause
or the reason for the fight
they are left alone to learn
how to make it through the night

for war is such a brutal game
that no one ever wins
and each and every player
gets haunted by their sins

and when the final battle ends
and one side says its won
for many who survive the fight
the nightmares just begun