Sitting there under starry sky
The smell of burnt marshmallows 
The crackling of fire
The laughter and chatter
The sound of bottles clinking 
The feeling of being young forever
What a sight to behold
A picture worth keeping 
And then there's you
Hair messy, glasses askew
But still breathtaking 
And then I was confused
On which view was more beautiful

It was the first time I saw her
Walking past empty sidewalks
My hands were cold, the night was young
I found myself entering a crowded room
It was loud and everyone smelled the same
I shoved my hands in my pocket
Back against the wall, head lowering slowly
But then I saw something 
Someone*
It was the first time I saw her
She was dancing 
I can't stop looking at her
I was mesmerized
By her hands, the way she moved
It felt real
Everything was perfect, beautiful 
It happened really fast
I didn't want her to stop
I didn't want this moment to pass
I didn't want to die

I'm waiting for the "block" to break.
My pen is filled with ink.
Nothing seems to come to mind.
I can barely think.

My rhymes have just meandered
Out the kitchen door.
Inspiration took a day off.
My life's become a bore.

The headlines don't excite me.
The president didn't call.
The queen did not invite me.
There was no mail at all.

The pope just went fishing.
Congress is on a break.
My lottery tickets have disappeared
And I can't stay awake.

I guess I'll stay in bed all day
And enjoy a lengthy nap
And maybe have a dream or two
To get me back on track.

I don't have a poem today
Or wait... I think I do...
I'll call it "I don't have a poem today."
And foist it all on you!

bright eyes
messy hair
falling fast.
each
         longing
       g
   a
   z
       e
and stare.
you catch
my eye,
   b  l  o  w
a kiss,
take my
heart,
and here
we go.
flying,
bright eyes
into the stars
falling fast
into
nothing
but thin air.

I thought I could
   out run my demons
   but they still
   f  i  n  d   m  e
   in the dead of night
   next to the water
   gone cold in the basin
   from the blood I scrubbed
   from myself
   l   a   s  t    n   i  g  h  t.
   these stars that fall
   onto my body
   won't come off
   so they leave scars
   that I hold tightly
   sewn together like
   w  i  s  h  e  s    l  o  s  t
   to the dark.
   my arms are empty
   yet, so full
   of what I carry
   deep inside
   that when I awake
   in the morning
   it makes me wonder
   w         h         y?
   but tiny cuts
   hold big secrets
   that never heal
   the wound.
   so I will run
   for the very reason
   that weakness is a
   s  i  l  e  n  t     r  o  o  m
   so, if you ask:
   "thoughts for a penny,"
   I'll just bargain for a tomb
   since all these whispers
   live too haunt me
   I run...
   I fall...
   I .....   l   o  s   e.