When matter reflects on itself,
consciousness materializes
into something more tangible
and realizes all of existence
is floating above its head.

Matter turned and governed
by gravity’s hands.
Spun and pulled by
creative fingers,
shaped into round colorful bodies and
tossed into blackness
to dance alone.

Some are given partners,
little moons to set their mood,
to spin their silvery light around them
and sing their songs at night
to put their children to sleep.

Some stay awake for the song,
some watch their slow dance,
and some look up at the milky sky and
wonder if matter thinks about them back.

So many of these words have been about you...
I've written them during my darkest hours,
in the middle of the night after too many drinks,
that were accompanied by too many cigarettes,
after I had tossed and turned for what seemed like forever,
with you stuck in my head; those lingering aftershocks.
After listening to so many sad songs with the volume too loud,
I opened this computer and put down how you made me feel,
typed out the words that I never got to say to you,
poured out all the sorrow, and regret, and mistrust;
the jarring color of it, all viole(n)t red.
Let it soak through the keys and bloom into this portrait of you:
A picture of who you really were...a snapshot...a Polaroid.
And now that its finally tangible,
I can see all your sharp edges and black shadows
and how much I wanted to smooth you out and cast a light.
I can feel everything I wanted you to be
and how much it hurt when you disappointed me.

I hold your picture in my hands that I created with my words
and think about the all those depths you brought me to...
All those nights I spent wishing things were different.
All those hours I spent wishing you still loved me.
All those minutes I spent wishing I didn't cry over you.
All those seconds I spent wishing I never met you.
And I think I finally have the strength to rip you apart.
And forget you....for good.

There’s a soft sound to it:
the way your bare feet touch the floor,
or the way your hair falls into your eyes,
or how you sigh right before you fall asleep.

There’s an eager emotion to it:
the way your mouth quivers after a kiss,
or the way your eyes look as you lean in close,
or how you push your body into mine.

There’s a fleeting feeling to it:
the way your keys jangle as you walk out the door,
or the way your toothbrush never stays more than a day,
or how you’re too kind to wake me when you leave.

There’s a rare reality to it:
the way your phone lights up with texts from her,
or the way your voice sounds telling me you’ll be late,
or how you haven’t been around in weeks.

I wish I was a doctor with
Cures of every kind
Helping folk get better
And give them peace of mind.
I wish I was a pilot
Flying through the air
Finding destinations
And taking people there.
I wish I was a scientist
With all those remedies
Making this world a safer place
For all humanity.
I wish I was a movie star making movies
By the score
Heading off to Hollywood to receive
Those film awards.
I wish I was a space man heading to the stars
Looking down upon the earth
On my way to  mars.
I wish I was a poet a lourette to be
But I am but a dreamer
So I am happy being me.

It's such a pleasant morning
I'm not going to do a thing
I am sitting drinking coffee
I see a lovely display of wings.

I love these early mornings
My working days now done
Watching birds of every kind
They really are such fun .

The crows they are going crazy
There are thousands in the air
But the pigean on my bird stand
He isn't going anywhere.

Now a black bird he is gliding
In harmony with the breeze
He doesn't seem to worry much
He takes refuge in the trees.

What ever happened  to the sparrows
We don't see them anymore
They always used to be around
A little bird that I adore

Maybe there is a message
In the way that these birds sing
Take note of there morning chorus
And there lovely display of wings.

I knew of a boy who cried wolf

He was once a bright soul

Shattered by something he saw

That day

He screamed in terror as we just watched

His cries echoed by the utter silence and oblivion surrounding him

At first we were quiet, then we laughed

But we didn't like him much

So we ate into him if we got agitated

Took our anger out on him if we wanted

After all, to us

All he could do was cry



So the story goes



With no remains to bury

For the troublesome boy

That always seemed to be haunted

By the wolf inside each and every one of us




We didn't deserve him