Why...
                                  I ask myself,
Why can't i be good enough?
       I'm either too quiet or too loud,
too energetic or too dull, lifeless...
        I'm too nice or too mean,
too dramatic or too emotionless, numb...
       I feel everything or i don't feel enough...
                     Why...
     Am i never good enough?
   I love myself yet i despise my existence...
                     Why...
Is it that the only person who thinks I'm
                                                                ­           enough,
    is the person who deserves the world,
                                                          ­           the world i can't provide...
  But maybe he can show me that for once,
                                                           ­                 I am good enough...

Run away//
Run away//
From the alarm clock that breaks your rest//
Run away//
From the pains held in your chest//
A life unblessed//
From blessings you subvert//
Run away//
From the love you invert//
Run away//
Run away//
Run//
Away//

What
makes
A poet

Well
I think
Eventually

One will
just
know it

©  2019 Jim Davis

When the waves no longer crashed against the beach
The sand was sad and missed the sea
& from the dry desert an oasis was born
Born from tears the sand had wept
The oasis gave life to the travellers thirsty and alone
Even to the animals and carnivores
Yet none could ever stay for it was not their home
Alone the oasis gave itself to the sky
To be a cloud that travels far and wide
To seek the sea he utterly missed
Leaving rain and blooming flowers in his path
A river, an ocean, but he could not find her
So he looked behind at all he created
All those he saved
He asked himself "What is it worth if I haven't her?"
& in a moment he was gone
The cloud gave himself to the scorching sun
All that remained was a rainbow
Beautiful image of passing on

You're keep telling me how you would like things to be,
Then when I tell you about my disappoinments,
You advise me, not to have expectations...

A piece of the pie
Is what all seek to obtain,
Instead of the bar.

Bar for average,
But if in dark chocolate, is
Tastier than Pi.

Whisper Your Area 51

                  “Russian Aircraft Flies Over Area 51…”

                        -U.K. Daily Mail, 31 March 2019

Each of us is an Area 51
In hiding from a psychic bombing run
Behind the barbed-wire fences of our senses
Beneath the radar of our consequences

Our secrets are so secret that even we
Don’t know what they might be, could be, will be
Because the slide-rule calculating hearts
Can only slip between odd-numbered parts

Each of us is an Area 51
Playing hide-and-go-seek
                                                   but not for fun