Grandpa left me his keyboard
I left it in the corner for years
when late this very night
my spine grew chill with fright
for the keys clacked
of their own accord
as if wanting to be heard
then my spine did thaw and a smile bloom
for this phantom wasn't bringing doom
It was just a reminder from 'ol Grandpa
to let music fill the room

Don't be afraid to be a mammal,
designed to laze.
Learn a lesson from the kittens,
eat, sleep, play.
Shame has no place
saying the day was a waste.
Society pushes productivity,
filling every second with money-making,
side jobs, schemes.
Take a seat society,
let us dream nonsense dreams.
Let us use time to sit back,
soak in the sun,
and smile.

It's an odd spot, like limbo
where slow mo tempo drawls
as I crawl to the next stop,
the next lot,
the next way to stay funded.
Redundant tasks strap to my back,
but I can't complain.
The opposite of this society
is a deranged range bound for the drain.
Each piece here benefits from the other bits.
Separate would be desperate
so I must do this,
but can my assets affect the universe?

Slippery, muddy, tropic path,
foliage overgrown.
Sheer rock face reaches skyward,
water pouring, crashing
down to a cool pool, overflowing.
The jungle holds millennia,
falling,
falling,
without rest.

All my old friends are vessels
sailing away from the Bay
leaving the Martinez Harbor
or they are cars taking I-680 South
stopping at the last Kinder's
before driving out
flying the nest, hoping for the best
chasing paper
will we come back later?
will we return to the place
that watered us till we grew?
will we come back to nest?

Night glides over the white wings,
settling down from the sky.
Arrival in a familiar place awash with memory.
Come and gone,
return pulls tendrils from squishy matter,
lays them out before me
lights in the pitch, great expanse whispering,
tugging my sleeve.
There is a hill,
and a home,
a tricycle and bad accident,
fluffy morning pancakes,
play dough,
summer sun stretching for years.

Transient. Just passing through.
Flit from here to            there.
A split second shade you catch
in your periphery.
The kind that has you shaking
your head.
Don't worry, I'm see-through,
I can't affect you.
Go back to your tv show or book or whatever.
I'll contort, distort, crinkle up into radio static
so you can hear me faintly
between commercials...

There's nothing quite like
having your memory erased
the best thing that'll ever happen
the best thing you'll ever taste
are the drugs sliding down
your throat to splash
in the stomach acid
pumping chemicals through your veins

The synapses in my brain
are full of dopamine
and my serotonin levels
are off the charts
On the outside I stand tall
like a steel soldier
but on the inside I'm crumpled up
with a paper heart

How do I tell my mom
I'm on, walk in while
she makes her art, day before her birthday
What words would I even spit
how could I say I just downed
a bottle of codine, she'd disown me
So I stumble up stairs to my
old bed, pictures of my graduation
burn my head, but it's imagination
the room swirls but I'm station...ary

Started off with a bet, kids dared me
When your fifteen you don't
see the bad side, the glazed eyes
rolled back drifting, all you feel
is the lifting and the bass
pumping, through your chest blasting
off real life stress, you can't tell you're a mess
Rolling, feeling like the best

But now I can't sleep unless I'm on
and then I don't dream.
It's time to start taking steps
instead of X, I'll do reps at the gym
I'm done giving in, I done living in
fog, done being gone.

Yesterday me and Tony were on the go
driving slow, on the hunt for blow
picked up, lined up, he handed me the dollar bill
rolled up and I could feel my brain
screaming, yes, my veins aching, yes,
my hands reaching for the dollar but then...

I said no.

I can feel you in my fingers,
my muscles remember having you
in my arms.
I live on little miracles,
like when we think of each other
at the same time.
My rumbling mind mulls over
every sign until I shush it
with a sigh.
I rub my tired eyes and tell myself,
        "Go to sleep!"
I listen half the time,
half the time I eat.
While I rummage through the kitchen
I imagine you singing
in the living room,
your velvet voice
laying soft on my heart.

Ink spilled from the needle tip
that slipped under my skin.
I didn't think, I didn't think,
it sinks in every time she cries.
I only suffered pin ****** and laser burns,
to her it stings continually
and sometimes stabs, stabs, stabs-
On those nights I want to take a knife
to the defiled flesh and cut like hell,
dig out the pigment, remove the skin,
but I can't, I can only say I'm sorry.
What worthless words,
stupid, worthless words
that can't do anything to ease her hurt.
She hurts, she hurts,
I'm the worst.

That hideous
brownish
smoke.
Oh it makes me
choke to think
of it sinking
into your lungs

My electric guitar stands,
unplayed.
My girlfriend wakes,
at 4 am,
to go to a job she hates.
I spend 11 hours a day
getting to, then working, then leaving
a job that's okay,
so I can get paid enough
to spend my nights and two free days
in an apartment where I share
all the space.
How can I break the cycle?
Bring a smile to her face?
Make this life full of wonder,
excitement...
grace?

How many times have I
just been a line
scrapped on a page?
I am more than ink,
blue stains of pain
on some thrown sheet.
I have skins and bones,
eyes that see,
and a mind that knows
that I am not that bundle
of metaphors and smilies,
tossed about with pronouns,
ifs, whens, has beens.
I'm not the flat print out
captured by some lens.
Don't even try to entwine me
in song lines,
I'm a person, with desires
fears, addictions, lies.
I'm just like everyone else
showing the better half
of two sides.
So this is me telling you
I'm tired
of being something that inspires
I'm tired of part of me
being in your notebooks, yours.
I'd much rather
be a human being.

The beat played
Oh how it played!
and the sun came
with rave, laser waves
to bring in the day
Oh what a day!

I miss you in the morning
when the sun peaks through the blinds,
I miss you in the afternoon
when I'm working all the time,
I miss you in the evening
when I close my weary eyes.
All I want is to tell you I love you,
to hold you through the night.

I've slowly fallen, like Satan, from the graces
swapped paces and places, to capture different faces
but the wanderlust on my breath is strong, taste this
It's hard to bond when half the time I'm gone
black hair, curves, four leafed clover thong,
afternoons snoozing and browsing Netflix
flashes of my life till I'm on to the next bit
I can't get no respite, I just might break my next flight
for this chick, hopeless romantic, can't stand it
but lately I've been ghost on this whole scene
mind stolen like my future is a bandit
who's mind set is all about the greed
a fiend for the green presidents that sink further into my dreams
calling my name, telling me it's worth the pain to gain
have pockets on swoll with no shame to get a foothold in the game
thousands would be pocket change but the man in the mirror
doesn't look so set, half ******, dressed for bed
wishing he could disappear for a bit, maybe never come back
the king of disappearing, yeah he likes the sound of that.

reaches to the end of the universe
and back.
Ever expanding, limitless,
beyond conception,
even for true hearted romantics,
of which I count myself one.
I'm pretty sure the sun goes down each day
because it's jealous of your beauty,
and it gets tired of being outshined.
Remember when we stood on a hill that night,
where you witnessed three shooting stars?
I didn't witness a single one,
my eyes intent on you.
Those missed wishes are alright,
my dreams are in the middle of coming true.
Each night we lay down together for bed,
every morning I get to kiss your forehead,
is a wish fulfilled.
Now, one year into it, I'm ever more thrilled,
to call you my one and only,
my love bug,
my world.

I always end up listening to
Red Red Wine
Wether I'm sober, ******,
or on acid
I think I've come to find
that when I sing along
I'm not speaking to wine at all
I'm speaking to the woman
who I am yet
to meet

One of my favorite things to be,
as long as its with you.
Whether in waking, lazing, or love-making,
your skin soothes.
Our bodies exude a connection,
made for one another
inside and out.
If you were God, I would be devout
(and that's saying something).

It would tighten its grip
every single day
But it would be great to rip
it off on the weekends

greetings Darkness
you always sink into the ground
when Light isn't around
only pesky Moon
tries to ward you away
soon Moon won't shine
for just one night
and Light will fail its
daily battle
you'll rattle with inky conquest
rejoice in the hours
at your disposal
all yours
all Dark
I'll envy you then
more than I've ever envied
that pesky Moon
or too bright Light
I want to topple your throne
and be the ruler of quiet
Night

I write in pen,
for fear that lead would fade,
slowly scraped from the page
as ages pass.
Maybe grasping the inevitable,
whether leaded or penned,
moves my hand toward ink,
marks me for the passion to float,
not sink.
Despite that bite, I'm toothless
half the time,
a spaceship primed for travel,
but un-fueled.

So,
this notebook is your fuel,
empowering you to fill
from end page to end page,
engaging your will to strive,
thrive,
rise,
continuing to pen rhymes.
Not to live,
but to exist.

I used to be nice
before the world took my hand
and showed me the bad side
of everyone and everything
including me
including me

I fight everyday
to keep myself from going under
But the more I grab
the more it slips away
the more it slips
away

It pains me deep
that I spend so much missed sleep
thinking about money.
It sickens my heart that
cash is more valued than actions
sweeter than honey.
What I despise most is that
here I am writing about money
so I guess,
go money, go money, go.

Suddenly its been more than a year,
wait, holdonaminute,
There it goes--
It glows with a golden aura,
I coulda' sworn I'd determined to hold on to it,
jotted it down, photographed, videoed,
reminisced late at night.
It's alright, my tight grasp failed,
But it hasn't slipped through my fingers,
just drifted, calm, leaving a soft tingling on my arms,
then left me with a jolt,
a revolt against the turmoil that plagues me.
The future used to be dread, dead-ended
in routine monotony.
Now it has gotten me day dreaming fondly,
beaming in my sleep,
stretching toward it with fervor.
No wonder this year passed so quick,
it was just one tick
in the span of forever.

I wrote a piece for class and had it critiqued, all about how
I can't remember Eddie's voice
and can't ask his parents for videos
to keep from digging up their pain.
Today I found a flash drive, one I can't place in mind. Popped it in, and tears leaked to my chin because there sat
video file after video file of Jake, Dennis, Eddie, and me on birthdays and outings, at the archery range. It's strange that the voices are young but I can hear him, I can hear him, I can remember

It's four in the morning
my mourning lays dormant in me
tears I should have cried
years I want to retry
cigarette smoke burns my eyes
but dry they remain
I lose sleep over the things
I could have lost or gained
my mind a bullet train
speeding toward a cliff
made up of
"What if?"