Poetry is like friendly advice
    everyone has something to share,
               but hardly anyone ever listens.

I stood there in the doorway, appreciating the paradox of time.
What seemed a moment that might never cease,
did not allow me to speak my hearts release.
All my lips could whisper was goodbye.

What else I might have said escapes me looking back.
As I rushed on through that doorway into the blurry night
and the tears I’d held at bay, began to cloud my sight.
Knowing this goodbye would probably be our last.

Something so final as goodbye.
Why did I have to leave you with that word?
Goodbye will be the last thing I wish you never heard.
It will be the first word to put you in my past

I gaze into my darkness,
after a whispered goodbye my heart has faltered
and I realize that forever more my sky is altered.
For when I said goodbye to you, one less star was my only reply.

if you leave your happiness up to chance
         you are likely only to be happy
fifty percent of the time

Everything in life ends badly, otherwise it would never end.

I didn't mean to make your heart break.
You must believe it was a mistake.
I couldn't help but have my way,

when that
red feather boa
looked my way.

I didn't mean to let your heart break.
You must believe it was a bad day.
Please baby just don’t walk away.

how many
words will it
take to say

I didn't mean to make your heart break.

If you try to save everyone
              eventually, you lose yourself.

a young man
heart pounding in his chest
back pressed against cold stone
body covered in cold sweat
peers around the corner
eyes try to pierce the dark

a mother
finger tapping on the counter
hand reaching for the phone
feet twitching to the clock
stares out the kitchen window
eyes try to pierce the dark

a young girl
head buried in her forearm
breath held inside her chest
body filled with anticipation
looks up from her countdown
eyes try to pierce the dark

cushions make a queer backstop
after five long years of stone
friends and family fray the nerves
after five long years alone

a backyard barbecue a battle
when the fight is finally won
still he fights to find the joy
in the laughter of his son

a bonafide war hero
not as brave as he might seem
when he can’t escape the feeling
that coming home was just a dream

the color of our skin
the nation of our home
the religion of our father
all things that we've outgrown

we all share a fragile planet
in an endless cosmic sea
all that matters anymore
is our shared humanity

The only thing separating a profound thought from a ridiculous one is the audience.

The truly courageous are those that tell the same truth no matter who is listening.

Lord please
if you can hear
humble my mind
let it not fear

Lord please
if you exist
humble my hand
unclench my fist

Lord please
if you can see
humble me heart
set my soul free

The river is ever flowing,
onward to the sea.
Why should I care about the river?
It cares not to notice me.

I am just a humble stone,
caught up in wayward currents.

The sun is ever shining,
it fills the eastern sky.
I glimpse in now and then
as the river floats me by.

I am just a humble stone,
caught up in wayward currents.

Someday I’ll find a river bank,
I can call my very own.
But until that day comes,
I am just a humble stone.

I am not these crooked glasses,
that slightly hide my eyes.
I am not this bushy brow,
that furrows when I sigh.

I am not this auburn hair,
that will some day fade to gray.
I am not this mortal shell,
that was born to pass away.

I am not this sordid past,
that sometimes brings me tears.
I am not these hopes and dreams.
I am not these fears.

I am not the worldly wealth,
that gives direction to the day.
I am not the pastimes,
that help time pass away.

I am not this car.
I am not this home.
I am not this lack of friends.
I am not alone.

I am not a number.
I am not this name.
As time is surely passing,
I am surely not the same.

I was never yesterday.
I’ll never be tomorrow.
Today I cannot hold the past,
from the future I can’t borrow.

I am at my deepest core,
a never ending will.
I am what this mind would think,
if all its thoughts were still.

I am love unconditional.
Potential unconfined.
I am what my god intended,
when this soul was first designed.

It is only a reflection.
This man you think you see.
He appears bound by his existence,
but I, have always been free.

I am dying
The thought occurs to me every now and then
Jolting my psyche like a bucket of cold water on a sleeping drunk

I just turned 32 this year
I can already feel the cold tendrils of deaths advance
Some days I can even smell its putrid breath on the back of my neck

I’m not dying of anything immediate
No nothing as glamorous as a drug overdose or a gunshot wound
My death more than likely won’t make national news

I am dying
It is a slow and pitiful death
Caused by a lethal mix of age, apathy and neglect

Every day I poison myself a little more
Complex carbohydrates and processed sugars in every meal
Caffeine carcinogens and aspartame to wash the poison down

I can feel my muscle waste away
As I sit 10 hours a day answering the same inane questions
Over and over again to earn the right to what’s left of my meager existence

I am dying
This must be the case because I am certainly not living
At best I am merely surviving, simply continuing to exist

Maybe tomorrow or maybe in 20 years
Even if I quit my job and start an organic vegan diet
Even if I exercise, meditate and confess my sins

I am dying

I question
not because I need the answer
just to hear the sound of your voice
see your lips move and your eyes shine
as you speak a reply

I fall
not because I can’t keep my balance
just to feel the warmth of your skin
the slender curve of your fingers
as your hand catches mine

my condolences go out to the man
who gets everything he always wanted

ignorance is bliss is more than just a catchy phrase

the man whose every wish comes true
has to live with the knowledge
having never feels as good as wanting

while the man who has naught but his desire
will be left blissfully ignorant everyday
with hope left over for tomorrow

I love you

Like the early morning mists
Love to bask in the sunlight

Like a free flying eagle
Loves a warm updraft
On a long summer flight

I love you

Like the ocean loves the rivers
And the rivers love a stream
Like a lazy man loves his sleeping
And a sleeping man loves to dream

I love you

Like an energetic lion
Loves to run wide open
On the Serengeti plain

Like the trees in the rain forest
Love the gentle evening rain

I love you

As the shadows I've been chasing
Fade in the mid morning sun
I realize what I thought was over
Has only just begun

The same crossroads loom before me
I realize that it always comes back here
And its only indecision that I truly have to fear

While I question every question and over analyze them all
I search for a suggestion to save me from the fall

Nothings ever easy and there's no place left to hide
I just hope that my decision
is one I will survive.

I march into tomorrow, knowing full well I can't stay here
Wondering why I always loose, all the things that I hold dear

I need to write poetry
Even if it doesn’t rhyme
I want to sing the words
out loud Off key
And at the top of my lungs

I need to dance
Caught up in the moment
Lost in the music
Not a single thought
To what anyone might say

I need to run
With reckless abandon
Wide open down the sidewalk
Until my legs grow tired
and I’ve lost my breath

I need to dream
Like yesterday never happened
Like tomorrows already here
With the audacity of youth
Without the slightest hint of any fear

I need to live
Totally devoted to each moment
With every ounce of will within me
So that when the curtain closes
I’ll have harbored no regrets

In the Middle
That’s where I find myself
Half way there and half way gone
Not much further from where I started
At least that’s what I tell myself
Not much further to go
At least that’s how it seems
But so very far from my dreams
The middle
Just the word middle
Tastes dry and bland upon my tongue
In the middle of life
The middle of indecision
If I stopped mid-sentence
Would you understand my meaning
Can I understand life’s meaning
In the middle

I still dream of you from time to time.
not the good dreams, the pleasant ones,
where you wake up after a restful night’s sleep
and can just barely hold on to the happiness leftover

when I dream of you I dream the dark ones
that wake you up in the middle of the night
falling from some imperceptible, nonexistent height
gasping for breath, grasping for life, drenched in cold sweat

even on nights I don’ t recall ever dreaming at all
a vague feeling of unease will settle over me midday
just when I am certain I have finally moved on, I realize
no matter how deep its buried the past is never gone

I have lived myself into a box
I can hear people talking and laughing on the outside
sometimes I can even see light through the cracks in the walls
but no matter how hard I try to climb
throw my self against the invisible walls
shout into the silence that surrounds my heart
I am all alone in the dark

Life is a game
that noone will want to play with you
if you go around pointing it out.

Life should come with a disclaimer
“This **** doesn’t get any easier”
Stamped on the back of every hand
as babies exit their mother’s womb.

There are some things in life,
everyone should be told up front.

Life isn’t fair, so don’t expect it to be.

Love changes, so don’t hold onto it too tightly.

People are dishonest, be careful who you trust.

Never go to the DMV on a Monday.

Unfortunately life doesn’t come with a disclaimer.
When you are 40 you look back and realize
how much time you could have saved
if someone had just told you about the DMV and Monday’s

Little hands with tiny fingers
reach out like they can see,
over the top off coffee tables
and behind her daddy’s knee.

Little hands with tiny fingers
seem to always find a mystery.
They can slip almost anywhere
little hands should never be.

always grasping always searching
always reaching always learning

Little hands with tiny fingers
touch my heart and set me free.
When the little girl they belong to,
gives her little hands to me.

a little piece of heaven
by a miracle made it here
and this little piece of heaven
to my heart I hold so dear

but I am not the only one
to love this heaven so
as does every other
tortured soul I know

i try so hard not to care
that my heaven I must share.

i just pray,
that some day
my heaven will abide with me
and forever there wish to stay.

Don’t waste this life,

            consumed by what might have been.

All alone in a crowded room
don’t think anyone can hear me.
So far away from human touch
despite all these people near me.

I spend the night inside my head
and wonder how they see me.
Could they ever understand
just what it’s like to be me?

Late at night I close my eyes
and I analyze their faces.
Those who play the parts they play
without questioning their places.

Under  lamplight with my pen
I voice my lonely spirit.
So I’ll no longer be alone
if only you should hear it.

life doesn't come with second chances
there are no doors that open back
we miss the paths that lead us forward
when we focus on the past

let old bridges keep on burning
you can't keep the world from turning
just keep your eyes toward tomorrow
today goes by too fast

Winter winds come calling,
hatching frozen winter plots.
But here they’ll find me not,
I am lost in warmer thoughts.

Thoughts of summer sunshine,
it’s warm kiss upon my skin.
Crystal clear blue water,
beckoning me to jump on in.

Warm thoughts of summer nights
underneath the full moons glow
and gentle summer breezes
that whisper when they blow.

Winters winds come calling
hatching frozen winter plots.
But I’ll make through December,
lost in warmer thoughts.

I glimpse it now and then.  
Most times only in passing.

There are days.  
Bright sunny days,
when the warmth of the summer sun
permeates through my whole body.
It feels like the light on those days
brightens my entire existence.
I feel it then.

Rainy days
when the gloom from the cloudy sky
matches the sweet melancholy of my soul.
The peaceful sound of raindrops
the warm rumble of thunder
brilliant flashes of lightning.  
I feel it then.

I’ve felt in passing memories.
Memories of the joy of childhood.
Memories of my family and friends.  
Memories of the dreams I think I am loosing as I get older.

Sometimes I can smell it.
It’s the scent of my favorite food cooking
The smell of the perfume she wore when we first met.  
Or that electric smell that fills the air right after a spring storm.

It’s in the sound of a mothers voice.
The touch of the warm breeze on a starry night.
The sound of the ocean when I really need to relax.

I feel it when I notice natures beauty.
I see it pass between two lovers holding hands

It’s in a warm embrace,
a passionate kiss.
or just a knowing look
from someone who for an instant
sees the world exactly as I do.

every Monday morning
I think about your smile
i let the world disolve around me
and daydream for awhile

on Tuesday afternoons
I like to linger on your laugh
I close my eyes a moment
and let the memories take me back

on Friday nights
I sit quietly and stare
my body at the bar with friends
my mind running fingers through your hair

and every other moment
my conscious minds awake
my heart whispers out your name
the only sound my heart can make

dance steps on the marble floors
still echo off the walls
music that's almost forgotten
whispers through the halls

pillars holding vaulted ceilings
no longer sparkling white
tattered torn and misbegotten
what was once ornate delight

dusty tables are scattered broken
chairs are thrown askew
joyful memories start to fade
as they feel no longer new

a space once crowded warm and bright
has lost its quaintness in the night

now that the parties over
all the people have gone home
shadows fill the empty spaces
where happiness once shone

eyes water
throat burns
heart wrenches
mind churns

know it’s a weakness
but can’t hold it back
fight it too hard
whole world turns black

emotion?
empathy?
frailty?
strength?

have to **** it
that place inside
that feels so much
it breaks the sky

a real man today
for the very first time
everyone knows
real men don’t cry

Two strangers on a midnight ride
underneath the moonlight pale.
Two strangers who just by chance
are passing in the night.

One smile, one glance
a subconscious movement of the heart.
Two strangers just with flashing eyes
share a lifetime in one look.

The road between them gathers miles
their destinations leagues apart.
Two strangers shared a midnight love
that will live forever in their heart.

A part of me has passed,
but I’m remiss to grieve it.
In fact I think it best,
should I decide to leave it.

What part of me is gone?
You may have thought to wonder.
Many hours I have lost,
sitting silently to ponder.

Even knowledge of the loss,
first took me by surprise.
Whatever part of me has left,
has left without goodbyes.

I guess it matters not,
what is lost is soon forgotten.
Why spare a passing thought,
of how it’s loss was first begotten.

How I miss your laughing smile
When the sky turns dark
And the cold winds howl

I miss your warm and loving touch
When the weight of the world
Proves to be too much

I miss the us we used to be
When our hearts were young
And our souls were free

I miss the dreams we used to dream
When the world was as simple
As it used to seem

of all the million moments
that make up a life,
the ones I shared with you
will be what flash before my eyes
at the end of it all.

Moments pass like leaves
on a windswept November day.
Beautiful and Golden
dancing merrily in the bright sunshine,
swiftly passing out of sight and out of time.
Until all that we are left with are bare branches
and memories of what once was green.

I'm not sure when it happened.
When I stopped moving foward.
Surely it couldn't always have
been this way.

Did I get here by accident?

Somewhere on the road to middle age,
I pulled my sensible sedan
to the side of the road.

Sitting under a shady overpass
content to watch the world
pass me by.

I can't do this.

I can't sit still.

Life is movement,
growth,
change,
and struggle.

To stop moving forward
to stop struggling
to stop growing
to stop changing

is to stop living!

On the brink of letting go,
the future slips at my fingertips.
It’s sad that I might never know,
what the future holds if I hold on.

At the point of no return,
the pages pass and bridges burn.
It’s weird that I might never go,
where I once had been, once I move on.

But it’s the start of a brand new day,
the sun shines bright in a brand new light.
I’ll learn to live, to laugh, and play,
in a brand new place and a brand new way.

It’s well past time that I move on,
the future calls beyond these walls.
It’s better to miss what’s already gone,
than to miss the chance of moving on.