i was never the origin of
your misery. too busy with
my own; but i'll hold you
when days find their way
down to cold. i'll issue soft
brushes against your skin
if you want reassurance, or
warmth, or just to not feel
so alone nights like tonight. at least, you
ain't alone in that. and i
could keep spilling the same
sentences for fifty long years
now, but i'm not entirely sure
i can make it. without you,
at least.
                so, here is where i'd
typically say "but, of course, you'd
never care. never come round.", but
i'm clasping small hope. rings
around the moon. i'm dizzy,
just thinking.

I crave you like a cigarette and I just as equally want to burn you.
Smoking is an addiction of poison that will waste you away and acid drenched flowers will grow from your ribcage. But I assure you, I'd rather turn my lungs to ash than ever be kissed by the putrid lips of love.

Please forget me, you were right dear
I am cold and self-involved
And though I'll miss you, recent lover
I am weak and therefore fold

Get distracted by my music,
Think of nothing else but art
I'll write my loneliness in poems,
If I can just think how to start

Dot my I's with eyebrow pencils,
Close my eyelids, hide my eyes,
I'll be idle in my ideals,
Think of nothing else but I

not every poem is about beauty
too caught we are in the moment to write about it
that is what makes it beautiful
pain clings long beyond instants
prolongs and window reflections
engulfing our bones
masticating our stomachs
from slow drip bile coffeemakers in our chest
the line from that one song starts the burning
and the eyes of a stranger flavored with reminders
i wish i could tell him i finally got to ____
my blood is chunked with tomato slices
acidic clots and stagnant passions
float me in melancholy perplexities
a minute of oddity where emotions
are unidentifiable

Past the trains
Within the rain
Tells a story
Simple and plain

It holds a boy
Arogant and coy
Who thinks of himself
And those to annoy

He lost his friends
Again and again
And why he was alone
He couldnt comprehend

He traveled around
town after town
He was left searching
Up and down

He wanted to find
A particular kind
Of a person
In unique design

One who would break
His aggresive mistake
And turn him human
Make him awake

But unlike fairy tails
This one did not unviel
A happy ending
Or even a sequel

His anger would feast
On those he liked least
Till he ate his beauty
And became a full beast

There is poetry in ***** plates,in the
demo and undemocratic states of undress
unless of course I am mistaken.
I see it everywhere,
in the **** on the street in the litter that people keep dropping
poetry in what I see and what I see is poetry,
foul mouthed,open mouthed and blast it out,shoot from the lips,shoot from the hips,nicetones,ricetones,break the bones of your audience,if they had any sense they'd be up on the stage venting their lines in prose or in rhymes.

On page thirty three when they write a book about me there will be this;

If you don't like me to rhyme
you still have the time
to *******.

No apology friends my life is a means to an end and the end when it comes will run into many more ends,many more friends and poetry goes on,in the dead and the gone,in the fast and the quick,lick your lips have a go,put your poetry on show
just do it
or go on your way.