I need to stop looking
at her as though the sun has risen,
and the rays paint the universe in a collection
of pinks and oranges, and sparkles the terrain.
She cannot be the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen. For she is also the night
who constantly leaves me in the dark
when I need only a single slant of light
to scarcely live.

forced words on paper
scratched nails on chalk bored
stiff caned laughter
smiles to mask a wound
stitches to hide a broken heart.
this is what the world is standing on
but we can change
we can rebuild
we are strong
WE CAN DO IT.

It's hard to write a poem
When there's nothing going on
It's hard to think of what to say
When you've given most of it away

As poets we never scratch the surface
We delve within, disclose our deepest sin
We crave our pain, declare it's for our art
Yet more often than not have no idea where to start

But start we do and start we must
A deep desire in all of us
To spill out on the written page
What little bit we have tried to save

Ink now is the poets blood
Fragments of self pour from within
Silence is our safety net
To stop us from bleeding out

Although it's hard to write a poem
With nothing going on
We still find words to form a verse
From deep within our marrow bone

Work © Mike Hauser & © Sia Jane

1:20 A.M.*
hey, I just wanted to tell you I miss you.
read 1:21

no response.

Don't just listen.
Feel.
Because the answers don't always come
In loud preachings and audible words.
Sometimes they come
In the dark of the night
Brought by the silent whispers
Or the cold midnight breeze.
Sometimes your heart hears
More than your ears do.

The storm roars,
The wind blows,
The ocean rises,
But I still remain the same

The rain falls,
The thunder growls,
The earth trembles,
Yet, I am still me

The leaves may turn brown,
The sky may turn black,
The birds may stop singing,
But I may not change

The love I gave yesterday,
The love I give today,
And the love I will give tomorrow,
Is the same love you'll ever receive from me....forever.

What do you write to the saddest girl in the world?
Do you write about the beauty in the moon
The way its reflection
Stains the waves white?

Do you write about the way the rain
Falls on the surface
Of the water
And how it looks from underneath
Dancing with the oxygen
You exhale


Do you write about the wind
Tearing
Caressing
Green
Red
Brown
Yellow
Non- existant leaves?

Do you tell her
About your cheeks stinging
When the sky is grey
And how it feels to have drizzle
Falling across your closed eyes?

Do you tell her about the little boys
Who pick flowers
Just to see her smile
Or the girls who spend minutes
Writing her name?

What do you tell the saddest girl in the world?

Do you tell her
That everything is infinite
Or that it is necessary
For all things great
To end?

Do you tell her
About the flowers
You see
And the smiles
You can no longer count

Or do you tell her about the flowers
That lose their petals when she
Forgets their beauty
And the people who fade away
When all she sees
Is grey
Grey
Grey
Emptiness

Do you tell her
When you miss her smile
Or do you kiss the tears
Off her cheeks
And dance with her
Slowly
Across the bed
With rumpled sheets
And lines
And lines
Of sunlight

Do you tell her
That you love her
Without her sadness
(God, I hope you do)
But with it too

Or will you
Never tell her
The way she never tells you
And will you keep
The receipt
That she had written
About never telling the person you love
The most

How much you love them.