Why don't we have a change in pace
Stop what you're doing and follow me around

I'm tired of being a little puppy
Chasing you all over town

One thing is for certain
One thing is painfully clear

I'll let go of the wheel
You can go ahead and steer

I won't be busting a nut any time soon
We both want to be dancing in the light of the moon

Hold up a little I don't see a crown
Let's get back home to the east side of town

Yesterday is gone don't keep harping
Don't wait until tomorrow open your heart and sing

I brought my bottom dollar what did you bring
Put it up here on the table well what do you think


We can walk away but that's no good
I know well you enough to know you wouldn't

Let's pick it up where the angels put it down
Take it back home to the east side of town

Within the four walls
Below a roof
Busy with play of words
The poet is aloof.

The sky is breaking low
Pitter patter rain
Capture they must the flow
Of drizzles soothing pain.

Outside on a stretch of green
Drenched to the bone
A man with cracking skin
Hoeing from morn.

The toiler is tasked to ****
Paid by the hour
Must earn the precious quid
Whatever the shower.

The poet is lost in the toil
To grow his rhyme in shower
The **** works fast the soil
Growing hope by the hour.

The unknown tries to frighten me,
throw me off guard, and knock me off my feet.
I am blind, when it comes to the future,
and do not have eyes that could see.
But whatever may come,
I trust myself to be strong,
to take control and move on-
Because that's my story to tell everyone.

You loved me,
to depths and breadths,
of your fertile imagination.
But refused to understand,
the love I needed.

I loved you too,
the ways you wanted,
to be loved and cherished.
Your dreams were mine,
to fulfill, to make true.
And I tried.

But in this understanding,
and not understanding,
Seeing and not seeing,
we lost each other,
to the powers of being.

What remained was hate,
in your gullet,
and still remained,
your picture in my wallet.

It's Sunday morning
I'm in mourning
My "give a ****" died last night
Amongst your words "you're just a blight"
You said it, not in anger
But with the disconnect of a stranger

.........SO.........

I no longer give a ****
Killed with your hit
I'll just lay
I'll just decay
I no longer give a ****
I'll never again throw a fit
Pushed to far
Drowning in tar
I no longer give a ****
My heart you just ripped
Casted aside
Feelings died
I no longer give a ****
Your love was counterfeit

On the outside I'm hard as a rock
You can't even hear the thud when I drop

On the inside I'm a crying little *****
Like a kid whipped with a switch

On the outside no emotion at all
You can't even tell I'm in a fall

On the inside a quivering mass
Fearing the final die has been cast

A   twist on  the ****  may
   bring about   another  bout    of   setting this   into
the  brightest  contest:

in  the  middle   of  so  many  arrivals
    become   departure
   even   when   coming   into.

Fold   this   abandon   into   prayer
    and  slide it  underneath
  a pillow – your pillow, a  dagger
    to    wage   fray.

lean  toward   the  absence  like  a lover,
  dream   befallen   like  an  unwanted  visitor.
devise  a  plan  as  if  nothing  was here   at play.
   there is  nothing   here  but the

tentativeness    of   space – it may or   may not  happen,
   what  of   it, as if  it is  possible,

our   bravest   reach   to  things   we  recall
  is  our   conscious   error,   pity  our  duty
  if   not   our   image   cast   mirror to  broken   mirror
    shared   is the   damage   blown   by  wind

shorn   out   of   an eyelid’s  flutter,   weaving,
     turned  to    writhe   in   this    mortal   bed

this    day    will     evolve    tomorrow
  and    we   can   say   amid   transition

we     are   coming   to   be,   and   being   as we  have   went
  how,  in   this     frail   wonder

are   we   but    unsure.

I'm sure you'll trust me,
if what I say is
pleasing to your ear.
When I take grain of truth
with a dash of fear.
with words,that to some,
look like reality.
But they're really just
a cheap facsimile.

It's clear to see, you've
taken a vow of insincerity.
But every lie casts a shadow
that silhouettes reality.

Hey little flower,

How could you be so down?
Your petals are all wilted,
Your leaves are curling back to you.

Why did you let it be that way?
You know you can do better,
You deserved happiness even with yourself.

Thank you for showing me that it's possible to live again,
Without you, I wouldn't be here today,
So I'm returning the favor to you.

So hold on just a bit,
I'll help you get through with it,
I'll water you when you're down and take care of you myself.

-HIY

the smell of the fire
the light of the stars
these are the summer nights
we dream about them often
more then we should
but when they come
we never want them to end
the happiness they bring
to even the saddest of friends
they fill us with joy
for hours on end
but when they're over
we get a little sad inside
and wait until the next
summer time