Don’t put me down,
when I ‘m not around,
don’t inflate my ego
when I’m playing the clown.

Please just be real
while we are here,
just tell the truth.
I need it to be clear.

Don’t want any flowery words,
if every line is a lying verse.
Please don’t paint this life with
colors that are unable to mix and hit
the marks they are trying to make.

I may write fiction and poetry,
but despite my grand artistry
I just want someone
who wants to be real with me,
someone who is lovingly honest.

In another universe we would have been soul mates, and in another we would have been best friends. Now we are neither. Just fading memories and that's okay. But sometimes I need you not to love or make love to but simply to talk to. You knew me more than anyone else. Even on the days you didn't quite love me. Maybe you could tell me what my heart wanted right now because my love life feels like a disaster. It's painful and exciting all at once and for all the wrong reasons. And I wish you were sitting next to me telling me exactly what I want. So I could disagree only to discover you were always right. That's how we worked. Or maybe that's how we fell apart. All I know now is that I don't love you anymore and that's the most liberating feeling I have ever truly known. I was trapped in this vortex of you. The one where I was determined to have you. And the problem is, the man who pulled me out of the vortex is no longer the same man making me happy. He's no longer the one making my heart twinge the way it use to for you all those years ago. But I'm wearing a ring I made engraved with forever. I'm trying to fall in love again. Because I loved him so much I swear. And I wonder if this is how you felt when we ended. When I would come over and crawl into your bed. I wonder if you tried to fall in love with me again the way I hope I fall in love with him again. And I want it known I do love him but I want to be in love. He makes me smile. But sometimes he makes me cry. Sometimes he makes me really hate myself. And I know I can be a sensitive person but I don't think he quite sees how his words break me sometimes. I want to choose him. I do. I want to say that one day too; I do. But here I am with this twinge in my heart that I'm trying to bury or force away. I tried that with you. I did. But I still ended up loving you nine long years. Tell me first love of mine. How do I say goodbye before I've said hello? How can I choose him? Because the love in his eyes remind me so much of the love I had in mine for you once upon a time.

as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

Your life is a loaner,
and being born in
a specific nation
puts you in hoc,
under the scrutiny
of those who control
the weekday work clock,

The same guys who got
all the politicians bought,
well they think they own
the work you’ve shown.

So, you stay all day
and work extra late,
till you are exhausted,
till it takes your health
and your mind,
well you’ve lost it.

You work all week long
and if you’re lucky
they will let you rest
on the weekend.

You do this for your family,
but you barely ever see them.

Till you are no longer breathing,
or you beat the odds and retire,

but you probably won’t.
Most likely you’ll expire
on the job, long after
your heart and soul
vacates that flesh
those working hours stole.

To all the girls and women who have been brave enough to face their trauma and come forward and report

I admire you so much
You are SO strong

All four times it's happened to me

I laid there like a deer in the headlights

Like a possum playing dead

Waiting for it to end
So I could walk away in tears

And hopefully never see them again

To bury my trauma so deep no one can ever find it

And there you are in court

Locking them up and throwing away the key

I wish I did that

I'm so sorry I didn't

I'm always afraid that I'll run into them

Afraid they did it again

Afraid of remembering

But every time I cry it seeps out

Because no matter how hard I try to bury it

It's a part of me

A part of the story line that cannot be erased

I just need to keep reading and hope the ending it happier.

Drop my body in the briar
because I’m ready to bleed.
Take my flesh to the fryer
because I’m ready to feed
all those souls in need
of poetic nourishment,
and sweet artistic fulfillment.

I’m done with impediments,
done with settling for all of those
dangerously dry and ***** bits,
when I bring the best poetics.

So, cut me, bleed me,
shake me till I give
all that makes me live,
dripping drops of brilliance,
so you can be blinded
by my radiance.

My ego overflows,
and its still trying to grow
stretching out my clothes
like I’m the incredible hulk,
the big green brute who knows
that all that muscle, hustle, and flow,

well, it doesn’t do much
without the right get up and go.

I am actually pretty tired,
dull and uninspired
so I sired this verse
to shake me from
the curse of having
nothing to say.

I just wrote a poem
that was nothing but play.
Why not?
It meets my quota for
one poem a day.

So, I drop the mich
and saunter away
satisfied with this word play.
Leaving this world stage
shocked to silenced awe.

I long for freedom,
but maybe a little attachment
an attraction of passion,
gentle and arousing,
a fire needing dousing,
that burns with urgency,

a relentless urge to see
someone I desire greatly,
someone who fascinates
with the art she creates,
and thoughtful debates
that help me generate
great ideas.

I long for another’s eyes
to flash with surprise,
because she was
attracted to my minds
and kind heart,
but beneath the sheets
she sees muscles that please,
a shape configured
by hard work
and delivered
for her personal pleasure.

I long to know and be known
to reveal and be shown
with a partner of equal quality
who sees the value in me.

Passion, and love
interspersed with creativity
and compassion
is my fantasy.

Looking at a blank screen
With a blank stare
And an even blanker mind

Where are the words that
Used to tumble *****-nilly
From a churning creativity
ljm

I've drank the finest of wine
Down to the bottom of the bottle
Only to witness an ocean alone
Barely surviving my own hands

A fire burned through my viens
That was blew out by the wind
Breezing through the leaves
A calmness that sits with me
Before calmness dismisses me

I walked across the tallest blue sky
Where wide winged birds soar high
Til promises of white clouds turn grey
And so there I fell with the rain
Dripping through the lowest gutter

Many times I was buried, lying in dirt
Like a grave, needing no help
Finding the dark inside of myself
But I always rise with the blades
Of the greenest fresh spring grass

No matter what feeling I catch
None of them seem to everlast

There were erratic outbursts
of rage and violence.
No bruises, but welts,
all the pain that was dealt
wasn’t as bad as what I felt.

There was depression
and parental inflicted
isolation,
a barren wasteland
of being forced to face
a life of submitting to
the beast hidden from the view
of everyone but me.

There was manipulations,
a parent taking
what sustained me,
that which helped
keep me from killing
every inch of my being,
of driving sharp things
into my skin
and letting all that is red
flow out from within.

There was years of
debasement,
and a parent
that blamed mistakes
on the figments
her religion created.

I wasn’t a bad kid.
I didn’t deserve it.

As an adult
I strive to be the essence of
compassion and kindness.

But I have no patience
for the parent
who did this,
and feel no obligation
to keep her around
or pursue a new relationship.
She can keep her distance,
and we can both go on living
our own separate lives.

You are a musical epiphany
that echoes gently in my memory,
the tiniest of tinglings
in all of my extremities,
a vague but pleasant recollection,
a strange lyrical collection
of poetry the inspires me
to rejoice gratefully.

You my dear are the highlights
of my imaginative nights
and queen of my daydreams.
Elusive as you may seem
you still bring me
soft syllables of sweet sophistry.

So, I gift to thee these words.
Yours to do with as you please.
I release all this artistry
into your gifted hands,
and let what will be
come graciously unto me.

I know that
the sun will
still shine fine.

But that
ain’t how
it feels now.

I know life
will return from
winters revenge,
and when
spring
comes back again
that vitamin D
that I need
will replenish me.

But the days
keep getting shorter.
The nights keep
getting colder
and I keep feeling
older and older.

I know I will
feel less stressed,
depressed,
and ill
when I get
a night’s sleep.

But at this moment
work is keeping
my sleepy time,
rest for my mind
hours behind
this long shift.