I guess you're still
Reading by now.

Your voice (that you try not to hear
While you're reading to

Yourself) would lull me to
Sleep if I heard it as

Closely as
You do.

Dedicated to
dr. B. Dixon, Ph.P (Philosopiae Poeta).*

You, Poet, define yourself as a
"'Meat and Potatoes' -kinda guy."
We were speaking of food
But I see that you eat
With your writing-hand.

You, Poet, write like a
Quitting smoker
That stands with his very last
Smoke in his mouth -lighter
In hand. Frozen; carving a statue
Of the moment. For himself.
From himself. For all to see.

You, Poet, are the wind thrusting
Confidence from under the wings of
Angels, down to assist the
Flapping of little, pen wielding
Ducklings at take-off.
You are a devil of a gentleman; an
Arms open welcomer
In this realm of written renderings.

You, Poet, are an agent of king
Poem Himself.
As convincing and encouraging as a
.357 barrel imprint on your forehead
To remind yourself to keep writing
-Just always keep writing; just
Write.
If you guarded the Gates of Hell,
You'd still give good meaning to
Words like 'Warm Welcome'...

You, Friend, make poets feel
Like the true
Rock Stars of the Universe
That they all
Truly
Are.

I love how the viking comes out
In you when you drink, but

Sometimes a woman needs
Not to be hurt

At
All."

The mind is comfortably numb
Unaware of the repercussions
Holding guard at the gates of Eris
Invoking the discord with intensity
Gazing endlessly at dull perceptions
Anarchy is just a breath away
Holding our breath just to stave away
But the cries of horror are unheard
The mind is comfortably numb

I would hate to live in a world with you by my side,
    at least now I do.
Who knows? Maybe by next week I’ll feel different
    because that’s just how we are,
        how we always were.
Stability was never a part of the plan for us,
    settling wasn’t an option,
        nor was it desired.

In a perfect world, you would be mine,
    but in a perfect world, you wouldn’t exist.

I pray for rain
So that I can place my head on yours
And together we can meditate upon the ambience of the soothing trickle against my window.

I beg for storms
So that we don't need an excuse to lie in bed for endless hours and stop time and the world, then lose our minds in each other.

Oh I hope it blizzards
Then we can snuggle under my blankets and get entangled amongst each other like glorious vines on a house.

I plead for thunder
Because then I could lay with you in the absolute darkness, and see the beautiful shards of light spark, and hear the thunderous roar as we lay excited clinging  on to the very bones of each other.

I dream of all this and more,
But for right now I just can't wait to see your face again.

To listen to this thunder with me.
No make-up on, wear one of my
Shirts; leave what's left of
Yesterday's mascara.
I love you more, when you don't.

I need a woman.
I want to smell yesterday on you,
Perhaps your legs should have been
Shaved, but I have an itchy back
I can run across them;

Costs you nothing but a pose.
I need a woman who says "You
Really should not go in there,
Use the sink, I'll do the dishes with
Antibac tomorrow."

I need a human. Not a Victoria's Secrets
Model; someone all blood and bones
And body who puts my hand
Under my shirt,
And says: "I know you're a poet,

So if I only give you this, you'll still
Find enough in there to keep you
Occupied with a poem about it until
******* is over, and I can give you
The rest..."

I have a friend who can clear his whole
Restaurant for us.
The fact that you'd rather be here with
Me, on this sofa, makes me wish you were
Real. I need a *woman.

Your yesterday when the nights are sweet,

You run wild without care, the universe in your eyes

So raw and bare

When your soul was cradled and your worries invisible

How you wish you could go back?

To what was once home

To what was once your own

Without lines on your face

Without darkness in your eyes

Back then when you have not known

The world so meek so true, with glee

When your soul was cradled and your heart is new

Now it’s all dull, it’s all broken and used

Body and soul, filled with exhaustion

Back then the nights were sweet,

Unlike now where you count the things you haven’t done so you can sleep.

Fingers aren’t enough for those things you should have said

Your dreams now haunted – they count you down before you go to bed

In your arms I lie
You're sleeping and I'm still
But wide awake because I can't take it
This is how I feel
Want you to set my mind at ease
I'm so worried and upset
Living with so much pent up regret
So if you would listen up
If you would listen hard enough
You would hear...
The sound of desperation
The sound of my heart wearing thin
I know you've heard it all before
But now hear it again
I would rather be dead
Than to see the love we have end
So we just keep starting over
Even though
The nights are blending together
The only way to get through this life
Is to forgive one another
See beyond the scars
And change the colors
Open back up to the ways
We used to love each other

I wish I was deaf.
Because every time I hear the wind sing,
I hear it calling your name.

I wish I was blind.
Because in every constellation and in every shadow,
I see the image of your face.

I wish I was mute.
Because every time I start to speak,
My lips wish to call out to you.

I wish I was immobile.
Because my feet ache to run to you,
Even though they shouldn't.

I wish I was dead.
Because every day I spend living is wasted,
Since none of them are spent with you.