You slowly walk down the avenue of normality
Ignoring the side streets and oddly placed alleys

Change, you feel, is strange and unnerving
You stay straight and narrow, no veering or swerving

You look at us weirdos and our strange machinations
you speed up your pace with much trepidation

You're so busy keeping to the road that's more traveled
that you are completely unaware that it's turning to gravel

You're walking alone, and the road has all but decayed
the streets that you passed up, now bustling highways

Your fear of the odd and peculiar, the offbeat uncommon
has led you to become alone, forlorn, and unwanted

Everyone's different
Everyone's weird

Everyone has secrets that no one will hear

You wanted to be normal, and normal you are
now you're a minority, among the bizarre

I feel like I'm chasing
   The shadow
      of a whisper
            of a lost memory
of a thought
    of a forgotten dream
           of the faintest glimmer of hope

Why is it that we fall in love?

Is love a trap, a giant pit that we unsuspectingly trip into?
Do we lie at the bottom peering at the light above?

Is love like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute?
Do we flail helplessly as we plummet to the ground?

Falling is painful, uncertain, and something we try to avoid.
Except in the case of love.

I don't like falling.

I think I'm going to grow into love instead...

When I was but a boy
no older than 4

       I insisted that the number of pickles
       on my sandwich be representative
       of my age.  

4 years.  4 pickles
5 years.  5 pickles
6 years.  6 pickles


This went on for awhile.

    Eventually, though, I felt it was time to end that particular tradition.

28 pickles was getting ridiculous...

On those days
   when my head is full
                of doubt
              of questions
            of frustrations
       of all the things that
  could go wrong in my life

I'll find her waiting for me
and I'll lay my head across her chest
and be greeted by
      a steady heartbeat
       comfortable arms
         soothing voice
            soft hands
                peace

I can't be strong every day
Sometimes I break
It's only inevitable

That's why I need her

It goes deeper than the warmth of her skin
It goes deeper than the lust for passion

I need her love to flush the toxins
I need her love to cleanse my soul
I need her love to refill me
For I've been running on empty for far too long

She's not there when I open the door

I push away the pain of disappointment

as I try to remain strong for another day

Let us fly somewhere terrifying and wonderful
where supernovas explode in the darkness
Name the place
Name the time
Don't forget
to make a rhyme

We'll be there faster than you can say
Allonsy

You'll see

There's no time nor relative dimension in space
That I'd want to be without your pretty face

We have the future, the present, the long ago past
The beginning, the end; The first and the last

We'll trek through the universe in moments so fleeting
You've no idea how fast my hearts will be beating

We'll adventure
We'll explore
If you'd just open
that door

All of them will open, there's no place for locks
One's options are limitless
when you have

A Blue Box

One day, I asked a chef
how he made his food taste
so delicious

He said to me
"It's simple.  I carefully
mix spices with meats,
fruits, and vegetables,
then I combine them
in a particular order,
during which I apply
heat at certain times
and temperatures."

I was awestruck.

Then I asked a painter
how she created such
beautfiful images

She said to me
"It's simple.  I mix certain
colors together, then I place
those colors on specific spots
on the canvas in a particular
order using a various number
of stroke techniques."

I was amazed

Finally, I asked a writer
how he wrote such beautiful
and inspiring lines

He paused and looked far off
into the distance, contemplating
what wise advice to impart to me



Then he took a hit off his ****

"I dunno, I guess I just
write, like, how I feel
and stuff..."

"Totally", I replied, as I bit into a ham sandwich