Just passed that last blast
of winter’s wicked fury.

What a relief
to get some heat
cause I was tired of being
frozen.

Finally, here
seems like we cleared
spring
and jumped
straight into
the summer’s blue.

Sadly, this quarantine
has me catching
the fevers of cabin,
has my jets lagging
without ever flying
spiced with just a tinge
of unwanted crying.

Please no more storms,
please don’t get too warm.
Let this disease
finally pass by all of our
families.

Cause all that I want
is to come out of the house
and see all of you.

Here I am
one more
dead man
just walking.

Here I am
quietly
reflecting
on what I see.

Here I am
wishing
not to waste
the space
where poetry
plants it blooms,
that perfect
pink fleshy room
that will soon
be consumed
by rot and decay.

Here I am
ready to play,
for this short stay
which can be bad
or made great
by the way
I take it.

Here I am
hold my hand
as I walk us both
through the
forest trees,
and starlight
reflected in these
rippling seas,
as we share
all this beauty.

Here I am
ready to give
the time I have
left to live.

Where are you?

The highway lights
glow painfully bright,
as I drive home tonight.

I am more than tired,
and uncertain where
we go from here.

Still, my rattling engine
gets me on the road again,
while my bluetooth music player
has me dancing and singing
to Pink Floyd, and Billy Joel.

An hour-long reflection,
driving and thinking,
as bumps in the road
have my heart sinking
just like my spirits.

Images of yesterday
and tomorrow makes
me quake with anxiety.
So, I learn to enjoy the trip,
even when I am bouncing
as my shock absorbers
slowly succumb to the eroding rust,
as the paint chips and disintegrate
like the rest of us.

Another day’s work done;
I am the captain of my dodge neon,
and the endless paths that I travel on,
even though I keep hitting the same one.
  
One more mile and I am home to sleep,
one more poem for this road to keep
cause it was just a pointless thing.

Time to put the pen away.
To take off the coat and unlace
those shoes that you will not use
anymore.

Time to lay down on the ground,
let the soft mud become
the bed you lay in resting
until you are fully numb.

No more running.
No more pretending
that the pain is ending
cause there is some meaning.

This is the chapter of my
repeated defeat
where I fall asleep
and no dreams keep me
breathing happily.

Time to retreat;
You all win.
This is the end
that you were pursuing
abusing those who
told the truth to you.

So, I give away my last
fast single finger salute,
one final ***** you to
all those who
made this world a little darker.

I got no more sparkle,
and I am just really ******* tired.
So, it is time for the dreamer in me
to finally retire
and take up video games.

The world seems to have
taken me far back
to a place that
I never wanted to
return to.

After years of
a routine I loved,
working out
and going to work,
putting my body
through a world of hurt
and seeing those I knew
with a certain distant fondness,

the situation has gone and
closed both gyms
I paid to attend.

Now I am back to
working out home,
which is hard to do.

Plus, the socializing
that I got at the gym
has come to a sad end.

So, I have taken
up gaming
for hours on end
wasting time again
but to be honest
I don’t really mind.

Do not seek me
beneath the willow tree
that once bequeathed
her leaves generously,
the browning birthed from earth
that used to be a beautiful green sheen.

She is gone recently
and I am still grieving
the loss made by those thieving
loggers.

You may look in old books,
and find my essence in
the sentences therein,
such sweet blessings
that sang my mind into being.

But do not search the loud
obnoxious crowds
of crowing fools
who act like tools.
I will not be one among
them.

While they are sleeping,
I am awake dreaming,
and thinking;
Elusive to this abusive world.
So, you might as well
go find yourselves,
cause I prefer
to be an introvert.

There is a wonder and beauty in uncertainty,
that sparkling unknown that unfold before us
making each moment precious
for its rarity and inability to repeat.
So, I hope it brings you joy and peace.

Poems are tiny treasure boxes
just waiting to be unlocked,
freeing hidden gems
or growing light orbs
that glow from within.

They are tiny surprises
of unconscious minds
that finally realize
what writhes
and works its way
from behind the curtain.

They are how shadows sway
dance and play in a
wonderful word ballet
with rhyme and alliteration.

I wish to write
eloquent whispers
that stir
similar words,
making other
poets purr
with the power
they possess.

While trying to
preserve
the quality
of what I
previously heard
hollering from
other exploding sun
artists.