Beauty's not the rose,
nor is it the red,
Beauty is the dew drop
that kisses it's sweet head.

Beauty's not the maiden,
or the knight in shining armor,
Beauty is the love
the two together harbor.  

Beauty's not a thing,
Beauty's not an it,
Beauty's not a seraph,
because Beauty simply is.

I will always prefer twigs over your diamonds

I've always been that girl

Playing in the mud

And laughing 'till i cry

An odd one?

M a y b e

But trust me

I'f you ever find me on the street

Say  a n y t h i n g

I don't need diamond words

When i have my twig

S m i l e,

And my youth

Five stories up, I watch the people
Miniature lives I see them go by
Thoughts. Loves. Burdens. Losses.
Complexities I will never know
Broken into fractions
Tiny particles, spectacles.
We are dust.
And time ticks, tocks.
Never once it stops.

It was time to lay it all down
Time to let go
Of those past hatreds and fears
The ones that would keep a brother down
It was time to lay it all aside
Move forward with our two feet
Scarcely breathing, daring
Watching out for one another
It was time to lay it all away
Time to cast aside
The chains that rattled as we walked
The bonds we could not hide
It was time
Yes time
Time to do the things we’d regret
Time to love and forget
It was time
To go on and on
Chasing the dreams we couldn’t hang on to
Flying and falling
Like Icarus, we dove into the sea
There was a time
Way back yonder
And the things you hardly remember
The ones we’d never forget
Time had a way about it
Time, mystical and divine
Endlessly short
Our time, your time
Simply, Time.

Some people don’t like déja-vu
I’m not sure why.
Standing in that old brick building
I almost feel as if I am ten again

Leaning over a white railing
Looking at the colored floor below
Waiting for an old friend
To come join me

Reality comes rushing back
As a small hand grabs mine
I lurch back into the present
“Come play with me”

I follow the small child
Tell her the games we would play
Passing the torch to the younger ones
Isn’t five weeks of déja-vu grand?

oh, this was it.
the scent that snatched you.
reminiscent of the sec that binds you
to me
to my being.

it  was almost blown (fr my recollection).

Disjoining this coterie
dissolves it's fragments
in Unison

Dispersal to all borders
with hasty charge
Contracted to bide

Consenting inside a concord
Of Visceral culpability
to Re-Integrate

Incontrovertibly

One
Moment
In one day
Can change it all
Even if it's small
Just one thing is set off
A chain reaction begins
And everything falls into place
Like a giant Rube Goldberg machine
And the final result is a new life

Leaving behind the shadow
of rationalization’s unfulfilled
promise to enter the world
of eternities chaotic
illumination
Nothing eternal is stagnant
and nothing vibrant truly
dies.
Flies gather on the corpses
of unrealized potential
while inertia winds ever
faster into oblivion’s
indifferent lair.

Live
Exist
Be

There is nothing else...

I want to jump out of a plane.
Not to die, but to feel
Wind against my face
Weightlessness, freedom
Adrenaline rush of it all
Quit sitting and looking
For cheap thrills, artificial experiences
Even the feelings will end.
Yet I will want more
Always wanting more
Never satisfied, never enough
Living is more than feeling
More than thrills or rushes
More than the sum of experiences
What have I done, left behind
Is anything my own
Or am I just passing through
Passing vapor?
I need to learn that life is more than jumping out of airplanes
How can I die, and end up learning how to live
Not just feel

Walking into a room
I look around
but lately not a face sinks in
any face but yours.

I look not to find you
but to avoid your stare.
I don't want to be with you
I just want to know where
you are so I'm not too near.

Close enough to see you
so when I take a peek
I can see if your looking
and if you want me.

Not that I want you
you're just something to do.
You're someone to talk to
until I get bored
someone to kiss
when the feeling rushes forward.

I just want you to want me
and then I'd like to decide.  
I rearrange my schedule to make sure your not there.
I cling to my friends so when its time to compare.
I seem like I'm better
and more than you deserve,
but the truth is I'm useless
and you're all I think of.

I don't like much about you
except everything I see
all thats missing is your need for me.
So I plan on working on it
to make me real cool
so the next time your looking
I'll be where you are.

Not perfect because that doesn't exist,
but from perfect I'm not far.
I have a long way to go until I'm ready you see,
but just remember that if you need someone
you can always find me.

The belly button is
                                     a poet's

most used
                     part of
                     the body.


Say what you will of writing
         from the
                         heart
                                    or writing
         from the
                          brain--

*Is it not true
that we poets
are known for
the things
over which

we contemplate?

Persistence.
The Key to the future.
Knowledge and Strength,
Both mean nothing.

If you become paralyzed,
What will strength do?
If you are scared to the point you can't think,
What will knowledge do?

Persistence.
It knows no bounds.
Can one not be persistent enough to climb mountains?
Can one not be persistent enough to change a nation?

And
Can one not be persistent enough to alter generations?