Do you ever have a moment
that suddenly it     SLAMS             into you
                                                             ­     you          are    alive.
And seven billion people     write the same story. You wonder,
  alone in the crowded Seattle-Tacoma airport, if someone
   will ever hold your empty heart       like the man in a gray business suit
   and the woman wearing a striped neckerchief. Will someone ever be upset your flight didn’t depart at the expected time, and give            the bouquet of rhododendrons to a stranger. Will someone               ever burst into a full sprint
upon first glance at you, deliriously happy that you are
      home.
Will someone ever    acknowledge that
  you are alive,   breathing for a change, wishing    for a slow dance,
loss of insanity. Will someone ever, in the passengers
   of the world,
                   notice you.

Those messages you sent
to me in the dark of night
mean no more now
than they did
when we used to fight.
Just stay out of my life
and leave me alone!--
I don't want you anymore
and no, I won't come home--
I have no home
with you anymore
and I wish somehow
you'd just ignore
that we ever were a couple
for any length of time--
you hit me, you spat on me
you committed a crime
and NO, I will not take you back
and give you ONE MORE CHANCE
you see, I've already done that;
already danced that Dance--
and I don't need a repeat
of what I considered a living hell
so get the eff out of my life
and know this:
I do NOT wish you well!

Where are you now
Seemed like you were on my back
Holding me back
With that warm embrace

Your warm memories sigh
Seem so benign
Don't step out of line
As well you know your place

The solace you sought
Was to give a millstone
Beguiled and betray your tone
I'd have you back again

Held me so close a cloistered prince
Thrive on your hypoxic high
On your placental supply
Ectopic asphyxiation

I sought out
A girl whom I could envy
I sought in
A feeling I could control.

Laughing meltwater laughter
Skimming stones with skipping feet
All together
As if nothing were the same as others.

I sought out
A bond forged in experience
I brought in a little less control
I found myself drawn

To just one more hug.

Don't let's go, don't let's be
It's not as simple
As love and hate
For I was not free

I hold your hand and
Feel the shackles
I stroke your hair and
Feel the web.
Sticky.

I look at my feet
As I trot beside you and
I'm led by sticks and carrots
By my endless want for something
You'll have to go away to give me.

words
we
twist and bend
make
the
backbone of
the
soul
are
the
same words
that
we
see again

some days
i'd like to run away
from where i'm at
to another place
perhaps a wrinkle in
somebody else's face
or hide out
inside a crooked smile
anywhere
where i'd not be found out

jump into an eye
in the middle of a blink
slide around the back
and watch them while they think
after awhile
i would venture out
making my way north
find a bushy brow
change my accent and identity
to a cajon from the south

jump onto a tear
as it's wiped close to the ear
whisper subliminal messages
get me out of here...

The feeling
To whom it may concern.
Caressing the curves of her hips has been long thought about.
Dancing to the music she makes.
Hearing her voice as we bicker or chat has been long considered about.
Listening to the breaths she takes.
Oh, listen to me going on. I’ve been fished in like trout, finding my hook like song writers, and yet I still take the bait with each passing day. Is it literal connection or mere intrigue of infatuations? Am I just ranting when I speak of her perfect imperfections?
She is an addiction as sweet as chocolate, but one so healthy as to compare to spinach, and I’d love to sample that intimacy. She’s a flower dancing in the wind, unaware of the forces provided, but yet opening her petals as the rain lets a staccato of drops down to nourish her.
And I watch as this little flower grows. And I develop a feeling.
A feeling that goes beyond love, reaching a plane that love can only lust to achieve. Beyond a hunger for attention and reaching into the very depths of my heart to pull out the emotion.
Reminiscence.
She is my future memory and my present past. A thought constantly on my mind, a form ever in my head and an opinion intended for gain. She is everything I lust, and yet lust doesn’t seem to be the word.
When she speaks, fireworks in my mind tell me to pay attention, forcing reactions out of me that I can only pray were subtle. When we match eye contact, my heart skips two beats before going back to normal, freezing my body in the wish of a romance. When she laughs, the tune replays in my mind, one of the things which I would love to hear over and over again.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, of all the fairer that roam these halls, tell me why it is that I choose one of whom I know the least, one of whom I struggle to speak to and stutter when around. Starlight, star-bright, tell me on this fair night, why I’d love her, though I wish I might, when we connect in so many other ways.
Giddy, graceful, gorgeous girl, with a side of personality unexplored. She still remains a mystery that I realize I may never solve. But it doesn’t deter me, in fact, I’m rooted like oak, mind twisted like tornadoes as I continue my last daydream of you.
Once again, you are my wish.
Once again, you’re on my mind.
And once again, I pray that someday,
You Let Us Love
~The Feeling

my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to strip off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem