I see the tempest approaching.

It's coming towards me, black clouds with
      tendrils snaking
        thunder snarling
        Eager
        Hungry
    Coming for me

I welcome it.  Bring forth the pain, if you dare

I care not

I grow tired of being a leaf in the wind
with my destiny blowing me
any which way
every day

I fight to remain in control

No more.
No more.

I will plant my feet firm in the soil
as the tempest, she's boiled, she's wild
she's fitful and riled
she wants to defile me

I will stand, lean into the wind as it tears at me
tears my clothes, tears at my skin
rocks and twigs and dirt attack
I lean into it, I savor it

I open my arms, welcoming

The rain comes down in dagger sheets.
It pelts at my face, but I will not shield my eyes
I will curse and I'll scream at the skies
a guttural roar
a primitive howl
I'm yelling for more

I'm mocking it now

my voice rings clear above the sound
of lightning and thunder
striking at the ground at my feet

A pain so sweet

The tempest, it throws everything
holds back nothing
as it blusters and wails
continues to falter and fail

down to a rumble
tumble
down to a pitiful bumble

I still stand
hands are fists
I'm covered in mud, soaked to the bone

filled with pride and warmth and glow

I'm Reckless
I'm Brazen
I'm Arrogant

I'm...Triumphant

I survived this storm.  I will survive the next.
I will survive you.
Will you survive me?

It was a Wednesday night
in the city, in a shoddy bar
that was pretending to be
a trendy one.

I sat at a table along the
wall, trying my best to look
good while sitting on a stool,
which is a difficult task for
those who know what I'm
talking about.

I was on my third beer when
he sat down.  I'd seen him here
before.  He had dark black mess
of hair that somehow suited a
thin framed face and onyx eyes

He had a strong jaw, a quick
smile, and always seemed to
be wearing a faded bomber
jacket with the initials CMJ
sewn onto the front pocket.

He took a sip of his drink,
and took a long look at me.
"You don't look like much
of a risk taker".  He paused.
Another sip.

It took me a moment to
realize that he was waiting
for me to answer.  "Oh..uh.."
I thought about it for a second.
"I don't suppose I am.  I guess
I've always played it safe"

He casually stroked the stubble
on his face as he finished his drink.
"How's that workin' out for ya?"
"It keeps things simple"
"You smoke?"
"Nah, bad for your health"

He smiled a big smile as he
pulled out a pack and lit one
up.  He pointed over to a
group of girls 2 tables over.
"You see that brunette there?
She's been stealing glances
your way for the last hour"

I looked over, just in time to
see the girl in question quickly
turn back toward her friends,
hoping that I did and that I
did not notice her.  

"You should go talk to her"
"Nah, she's with her friends"
"What if she weren't"
"I dunno, maybe...I'd hate for her to say no"
"If you don't find out, you'll never know"
"If I don't go, she can't say no"

He looked at me, then my beer.
"Imagine that your beer is full of risk"
I looked at the amber concoction
"Now, if you take too much of it, then
you have a real chance of pain and
suffering the next morning, but you
also got a chance at the best night
of your life.
  You still drink it anyway, right?"

I glanced up
"Yeah, sure"

He finished his cigarette and put it out
in the cheap glass ash tray

"Lets say you didn't.  The thing to
remember is...If you don't take it,
someone else will"

In one fluid motion, he had swiped my
beer and poured it down his throat.  He
wiped his now sated lips with a grin.

"Come on, are you serious?"
"I'm absolutely serious.  The
question is, are you?"  

He stood up and walked up to the
pretty brunette.  Within minutes
she was laughing at his jokes and
forgetting about the man she was
thinking of minutes before

Two tables down, that man sat
in front of an empty beer glass,
realizing that the words of a
complete stranger were truer
than the ones he'd been telling
himself almost his entire life.

I needed another drink

one plus one is one
whenever we're together.
math teachers hate me

You will read this poem aloud in your head

You'll read this line in an Australian accent
You will read this line in a British accent
This line here, you'll read in a cockney accent
In Russian accent, you will read this line...with *****

This line will be read in your best friend's voice
You will read this line in your mother's voice
You will read this line in your father's voice

Or maybe you won't.  I'm not a f*ing magician.

Geez..

I want a girl who loves like spring
who's fresh and wild
and with eyes that gleam
her heart is open
her dreams are unbroken
She follows them with reckless abandon
If she lets me find her
forever we'll wander
Because life was not meant for standing

I want a girl who loves like summer
who's fiery and strong
with a heart like thunder
her presence is radiant
she emanates brilliant
her passion is hers to control
If it's me she admires
we'll succumb to desire
and bare to each other our souls

I want a girl who loves like autumn
who's sweet and caring
whose empathy blossoms
her smile is healing
her words filled with feeling
She brings me back out of the storm
If she lets me inside
the rain will subside
and together, we will be reborn

I want a girl who loves like winter
who's keen and clever
and sharp as a splinter
her brilliance is palpable
her brightness incalculable
She finds the solution to all of my woes
If she finds me worthy
I'll acquiesce humbly
we'll light our fire and take our repose

She lies in bed and impishly smiles
Her naked body is my temple
I think about her every once in awhile
Love is always distorted, rarely simple

Her naked body is my temple
I explore every inch of her mind
Love is always distorted, rarely simple
I am saddened by what I find

I explore every inch of her mind
I think that I know her inside and out
I am saddened by what I find
everyone has something to lie about

When I left her it was November
I think about her every once in awhile
I cannot help but to remember
She lies in bed and impishly smiles

Write her a love note
dance in her dreams
drink up her thoughts
walk the maze of her eyes
    and get lost

Ask her about her day
Learn about her life
Swim in the sea
of her aspirations

If you always listen to her heart
She'll always take care of yours

Did you know Ninjas have a language
That we can't understand?
While it isn't terribly complicated
it can be tough to comprehend

I happen to be fluent
I've studied for some time
Below I've crafted a poem
using Ninjutsu as my rhyme














































I can only hope you found
my poem to be delighting
there are few things I enjoy
quite more than ninja writing

My girlfriend snores.  Loudly.
Some of the sounds that come
out of her mouth could be put
into a horror movie.

Recently, she's started snoring
in Latin.  Don't ask, I don't know.
Anyway, somehow every Tuesday

She summons a demon

At first, we were both shocked.
The Demon and I, that is. She
sleeps harder than she snores.

The Demon was apparently
just chilling down in Hell and
then Bam.

In some dude's room where
it sounded like a rather large
animal was dying.

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly
amicable at first.

Things may have been said
Objects may have been thrown
Souls may have been threatened

but....

Tuesday is now Poker night

You know...
Here's the thing.
I always felt that I had
a good head on my shoulders
right up until the point that I met you.
You took it off my body and you drop kicked
it into space where it's now floating somewhere just
outside of Jupiter's grasp.  The rest of me remains bound
to the gravity of the earth, but my head?  It's in orbit.
You make me see stars with your heavenly body.
Your eyes are black holes from which there is
no escape.  You've gone supernova, my love,
and I'm basking in the gamma rays of
your affection.  It's a good burn.  I'm
gasping for air, but it isn't due to
lack of oxygen.  You steal my
breath from me. It's OK,
though.  You are truly
out of this world,
and now I'm
with you
at last
.

I walked to the place today
the place where our bridge
   used to be.  
It's still hidden
deep within my mind.  I
know the way to the spot
all too well.

I stand and look across the chasm

The structures that anchored our bridge
to the canyon wall are now overgrown
  with ivy and vines.  The once
mighty body of the bridge itself
   lies a thousand feet below, slowly
eaten away by the river of change.
The river that also eats away at our
canyon walls, pushing us ever further
      apart.

I remember when we built that bridge.
I saw you across the ravine.  You didn't
notice me, you were too busy smelling
the tiger lilies.  I was in awe.
I felt like a fool pretending to be wise
I felt like a boy pretending to be a man

I yelled towards you, hoping you'd notice.
You did.
You smiled.
I almost died right there.

I sent you love poems on kites
You always blushed as you read

Then one day I threw over a line.
It was just the beginning.
Over the months, I built upon that
line, until I had constructed a
mighty bridge to
Span the gap


I was finally together with you
Everything was right.  My life
was filled with a soothing light.


I remember the night our bridge collapsed.
I remember the hateful words and venemous,
acidic thoughts that became kindling.
We spit bile and gasoline soaked barbs at each other
soaking the bridge with discontent.
We hurled insults at breakneck speeds, creating
sparks with the collisions.  The result was a towering
inferno between us.  It was fueled by contempt and
selfishness.  

Still we shouted, unaware of the permanence of what
we were doing

By the time we came to our senses, we were too late.
The bridge creaked and bowed as the fire consumed
it.  I remember the last thing I saw before it fell.  I saw
your eyes staring at me through the flames, your
beautiful eyes lit up by the moment.  The tears
reflected off of your face.

The bridge finally plummeted into the abyss below.  It
was a falling star of potential energy.  What we could
have had. I cringe when I think of how black the river
looked that night.


Now I'm standing here at the spot that it all
started.  I look up, and I see you on the other
side again.  You're wearing a white dress and
a smile.

I smile back.
My heart glides.

Ready to begin anew

I wear my emotions on my sleeve

  You ignored the gentle wash label...

bleached them with your stained whites

   as you sat on top of the machine

                           in your underwear

                  enjoying the good vibrations

You even had a cigarette after....
   lipstick stained, hanging from your smile

            Reminding me that it was, after all, my fault
            and I should be more aware of what I leave
lying around

"I'm not Martha F*ing Stewart"

That's the first honest thing you've told me today.

Hey you there, hands in your pockets
where were you walking?
You look mighty suspicious,
I'm just being judicious
lest you're malicious

So it goes every day
Yet we look the other way
as if to say that it's all OK

Until they found their voice
Until they made their choice

Now we're no longer afforded
the right to ignore it
they're standing in front of us,
the ones who have bore it.

They'll yell and they'll swear
we'll stop and we'll stare
They will make us aware
that they'll bear it no more

Life moves fast.

No, really.  Life moves at an insane speed

We're currently hurtling through space
at 2.7 million miles and hour.  By the
time you've finished reading this one
sentence, you have moved far enough
to go from Seattle to New York and back

Just sitting at your desk

By the time you are twenty five you
will have traveled approximately
five hundred ninety billion miles
from the spot at which you took
your first breath.

That's a lot of mileage

I like to think that there are
tiny remnants of you and I
floating throughout our universe.
Atoms that have rubbed off of us,
that have fused and split with other
atoms, eventually making their way
off of our planet into space.

There's a trail of you spanning hundreds
of billions of miles all leading back to one
point in space and time where you existed
for a fraction of a second.  No one else on
earth could ever have come into being in
that spot.

A thousandth of a second and you're already
a mile away.

That's your moment.  That's where you began

I'd like to think that's where we go
once we've gone.

We came from the stars

It seems an appropriate
ending

We will walk through the Cherry blossoms
in Japan, hand in hand, meandering through
the falling petals.  Our winding path
will weave through the countryside  with
no goal in sight.  We will stop in front of a
particularly beautiful tree, whose branches
are just beginning to look naked.

I will look at you, brush a stray blossom
from your hair...and whisper

           Aishiteru
               .                                                                ­                   
                   .                                                                ­                
                     .   .                                                                ­            
                               .                                                                ­          
                                     .                                                                ­        
                             We trek the Arctic circle and witness
                             the absolute beauty of the Aurora Borealis.                       
                             We're be bundled tightly in our parkas,                                     
                    ­         but we are still be able to feel eachother's                                   
                  ­           warmth.  We laugh as we throw snowballs.
                             We lie in the snow and make angels.                                          
               ­              Well...they'll start out as angels, but in the                                 
                            ­ end, they'll just look like snow that two people                          
                             have just rolled around in.                                                  
           ­                                                                 ­                      
                                              We can't help it.  As we embrace,                             
                           ­                   I whisper
                                                     Negligevapse                                                    
­                                                         .                                          
                     ­                                     .                           ­             
                                                          .     ­                                   
                                                         .                                          
                     ­                                   .                             ­             
                                                     .                                            
                   ­                              .                                                  
             ­                              .                                                        
       ­                                                                 ­                          
         We stroll the beaches of Hawaii, refreshing ocean                                    
         breezes cool us.  I picked you a flower,
         which you now wear in your hair.  Your cinnamon                               
         brown skin offsets your beautiful white smile.                                       
         We run through the breaking waves, our feet                                                
         leaving ephemeral indentations that are as                                             
         fleeting as our cares.  We fall over into                                                     
       ­  the surf and let the ocean wash over us.                                                     
        ­                                                                 ­                         
              I kiss your nose and tell you                                                          
   ­                   Aloha wau ia oi                                                               ­             
                              .                    ­                                                
                ­                  .                                      In China, we race eachother along   
                                     .                               .   the Great Wall to see who can get 
                                        .                   ­        .    to the end first.  We both end up   
                                           .                     .       dragging eachother across the         
                                             .               .           finish line...which happens to be      
                                                 .   .   .               a few hundred feet away.          
                                                 ­                        The locals shake their                
                                           ­                              heads disaprovingly, as we stifle      
                                                    ­                     a giggle.  I lean in and remind you  
                                                           ­                                       
                         ­                                                   Wo ai ni..                    
                                                             .  .                      .            
                         ­                                 .       .                     .          
                                                       .            .                   .          
                                                     .               .                 .            
                                                   .                  .   .   .   .  .            
                                                 .                                                
               ­                In Soviet Russia, girl kiss you                                              
               ­                and I gladly let her, for she                                               
              ­                 and I have had one too many shots                                 
                          ­     of *****.  Our faces are rosy and                                       
                      ­         we lean into each other as our feet                                     
                       ­        make hard noises on the cobblestone                                       
              ­                 streets.  Saint Basil's Cathedral                                          
             ­                  looms over us, as our lips dance                                           
                ­               a familiar dance.                                                           ­       
                                                                ­                                  
                              ­            Ya tebya liubliu                                                        
 ­                                                .                                                
                                                 .                                                
            .  .  .  .                          .               ­                                   
         .             .                      .                                         ­           
       .                .                   .                                                      
      .                    .  .  .  .  .  .                                                 ­       
    .                                                           ­                                   
We gaze at the Taj Mahal, a building                                                         ­   
built for a man's true love. I would                                                            ­      
build you a city.  we take in the                                                              ­          
mighty majesty of Everest.  I tell                                                             ­                
you I'd climb it for you.  You tell                                                             ­              
me to stop being silly, and say
you'd get bored waiting for me.
I give you a back rub instead.                                            

  Hum Tumhe Pyar Karte hae 
                                                            ­             We travel the dutch  countryside
                                              ­                            and kick off our wooden shoes to
                   .                                          ­            watch the tulips blooming.
                       .                                            .     I dedicate an entire field to you.
                          .                                 ­    .         You blush.
                              .                           ­   .         we fall asleep in front of a windmill,
                                 .     .                  .          watching the shapes of the clouds pass
                                         .      .      .             over us. I whisper in your ear
                                                             ­                                                                 ­      
                                                                ­       Ik hou van jou
                                                             ­             .                        
                                                                ­         .                          
                                     ­                                  .                            
                                   ­                                  .                              
                                 ­                                  .                                
                               ­                                  .                                  
                             ­            .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .                                           ­ 
    France has never been as beautiful as                                                               ­   
    it is now that you're here.  We skirt                                                            ­         
    the cities and explore the countryside,                                                     ­           
    Endless fields and clear skies bring                                                            ­     
    out our inner children, and spend the day
    romping and rolling until our clothes                                                          ­  
    are stained and our muscles ache.  I                                                         ­             
    lay beside you, panting.  In between                                                          ­       
    breaths, I manage to impart                                                           ­                
                                                ­                                                            
    ­                                                                 ­                                       
               Je t'aime                                                           ­                                 
                   .                                                                ­                        
                    .                                           ­                                             
                   ­   .                                                             ­                         
                        .              ­                                                                 ­     
                          .  .  .    .    .       .          .                                                    
                                                                ­                                            
                    ­                                            We explore Roman ruins and concoct      
                                                   ­             our own love story had we been born      
                                                      ­          in the Ancient city.  I would have        
                                                    ­            been a mighty General, who saved      
                                                     ­           you from a terrible dicator.  You            
                                       ­                         tell me to stop quoting Gladiator.       
                                               ­                 We share a kiss under the shadow           
                                               ­                 of the colleseum.  I brush your         
                                                   ­             hair from your face...                       
                                  ­                                                                 ­       
                                                         ­                  Ti Amo                              
                                                                ­               .                          
                                                                ­                                          
                      ­                                                        .        ­                    
                                            ­                                                              
  ­                                                                 ­        .                              
                                                                ­                                          
                      ­                                                                 ­                   
                                             ­                           .                                  
  ­                                                                 ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­                
                                                ­                    .                                      
     ­                                                                 ­                                    
                            ­                           You smile and reply                                   
                        ­                                                                 ­                 
                                               ­             I love you, too

You hit me with your pillow
  I am caught off guard, my nose was in a book
                        Now my nose is in the book.  Ow.
                                     I move quickly, time is of the essence
                                                       and we're at war.
                                                       I take my pillow
                                                    and dive over the
                                               edge of the bed.  You
                                          chase me relentlessly around
                                                the room, leaving a wake
                                                of down feathers trailing
                                                        ­    behind you, lazily falling
                                                         ­   to the ground in this violent
                                                         ­   melee.
                                                       ­      You swing your
                                                            ­     Pillow
                                                          ­   Like a medieval axe  
                                                                     I am beside myself trying
                                                          ­   to fend off your blows
                                                                 as you hit me over the head
                                                            ­ again and again.  
                                                        ­You've backed me into the corner
                                                       I wave my pillowcase
                                                     like a white flag
                                                   You let your guard down.
                                                Whoops.  I have two pillows now.
                                                                ­   >:)
                                             I do the chasing this time, as a dual
                                        wielding pillow monster...of DOOM
                                   "No Fair!", you call out as karma makes
                                a full circle.
                            "Love isn't fair
                           My dear"
                      I say, as I wrap
                  my tired arms
            around you
and fall into the bed,
where we lie
among the spoils
of battle

HaHA, I've done it!  I've created a device
That can tap into my subconscious
and translate it for all to hear.

I will win the Nobel Prize!
I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams!
People will LIKE me!

So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8.
Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make
sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes.  The next
words you hear will surely be written in History books one day,
much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the
first telephone call!

Neural connection is active.  Transmitting

TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE
PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS.  PLEASE
PERFORM ******* AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST
MONKS WITH LISPS.  COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME
A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******.  
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS
ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ******
HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF

Oh dear.  This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch?


JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD
BE A FATHER.  JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN
AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA.  EDIBLE *******
GIVE YOU INDIGESTION.  DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER
WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE
SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)

Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention
is experiencing technical difficulties.  If you would please be patient---

SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE.  NONE OF THE SMURFS
HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE.  I WONDER
WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK?  *

STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH

DoNT LikE iT?  tucK iT bAcK!!

Connection Lost*


I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready
for the *****--er..public.  I have run into some...translation
errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things.

Please don't tell my mother.

We waltz about the room,
so completely unaware
of the impending doom
that is our love affair

Every step that's taken
leaves behind a crack
in our weak foundation.
We're never looking back

We deftly dance and twirl
'round the holes that we create
that are always being filled
by the things we cannot say

Our dance becomes difficult, now
as we struggle to find our rhythm
the dance floor is so much smaller, now
we begin to feel a schism

The floor is all but gone my dear,
we're standing face to face
confusion as to how we got here
to this tiny place.

The darkness of all the things
that we thought we could ignore
is silently surrounding
we're oblivious no more

I was looking so deep into your eyes
I was so thoroughly engrossed
that I didn't stop to realize
I was dancing with a ghost

I
Icy fingers wrap around
my legs and arms.  They
sink their daggerlike nails
into my skin, and force
me to go to places
that I shouldn't be

Thick polluted smoke
enters my lungs, and
fills them with the
darkest tar.  I cough
and spew out words
that I shouldn't say

Slimy tendrils slither
into my ears and wrap
around my brain.  They
snake into the crevices
of the gray matter, and
force disturbing thoughts
to the surface of my mind

It's the Devil, my dear
who spits out poisonous
barbs that make you cry,
Not me.

It's the Devil, my love
who stares at you with
those cold red eyes,
Not me.

It's the Devil, mon cherie
who whispers sweet nothings
that always turn to cold lies,
Not me.

Don't you know I love you, babe?


II**

Please forgive my insincerities
It's not me at all, you see
There's a devil controlling the things that I do
and wouldn't you know it, he's not fond of you

He made me take a gander of the lass with the cans
It was all him when I forgot our dinner plans
Don't blame me when I stumbled in drunk
He likes tequila, who would've thunk?

When our ******* session was somewhat abrupt?
He was the reason I was forced to erupt
When foreplay became no play, who else can I blame?
He's bad at back rubs, and we'll toss just the same

He's crass and uncaring and remarkably rude
He's insensitive, boorish and  unimaginably lewd
He's not me, my dear, of that much I'm sure
I'm wonderful, loving, tactful, and pure

So the next time you're thinking of starting a row
for something I've done, or something I've blown
Take a deep breath and look into my eyes
and maybe catch a glimpse of the devil inside

He was always a quiet man,
never seemed to look up...

as if his eyes were afraid of
what it might mean to
see the sky

His gaze seemed neither
fierce, nor soft.
Neither attentive or lost

He would never look at you,
it was as if he was looking everywhere
except where you happened to be.

I never saw a smile cross his lips
I never heard a laugh escape his lungs
I never heard him curse
I never heard him yell

When he spoke, I could hear the dust
falling off his breath

It wasn't a monotone sound, but I imagine
he sounded like what trees or mountains
would sound like, had they voices.

He existed in the loosest sense of the word

He was an oddity and an enigma
His quietness and unobtrusiveness
could be somewhat offputting

Yet...he was often able to blend into
the background like a rain drop
in a storm.

You can imagine our surprise
when he stumbled into town one
hot afternoon, clothes looking like
he'd fallen into a vat of red paint.

Splattered. Head to toe.
In between his head and his toes,
cradled in his arms, was the
body of a young girl

He had found her in the woods,
he had said, voice devoid of emotion.
She had been lying off the path,
in a pool of crimson.

An investigation turned up nothing
The people, in need of a murderer,
settled on the only man they could.
The man who hadn't shed even one tear
over the death of a young child

The trial was a farce
The kangaroo court adjourned
Death by hanging

The man remained silent throughout
the proceedings.  Quietly answering
the frothing prosecutor's questions
with the same demeanor as someone
would use when discussing the weather

He wasn't defensive
He wasn't derisive

He didn't plead, nor pray
when the verdict was announced

On the day of the execution
nearly everyone in town was in attendance
Most of them couldn't tell you why

The noose around his neck, he stared
back at the crowd.  Stared through them,
as if they didn't exist.

When the rope snapped taut,
The man flailed as his body
involuntarily spasm'd.

When he finally passed,
his body swinging lazily
under the gallows,
I caught the hint
of a smile

Only for a moment.

I found it odd

That he would only show
a sign of life
as it was ending

Have you ever stopped and thought
about the winding path that we're along?
This labyrinth of lefts and rights
that will bring you into my arms?

Years before our lives had been cast
before our very first breaths of air
plans were made that would set our paths
on this crash course that we share

Millions of choices have been made since
that have led us to where we stand
Will it be millions...or only hundreds more
until we're hand in hand?

This army of Chinese butterflies
that patiently flap their wings
are leading us ever so much closer,
if you choose to believe in such things

I've waited for years, my love
for this maze to lead you home.
And when it does, as it surely will
I hope that you enjoy this poem

I'm overcome with sadness

It's not the biting sadness
  The choked sobs
that are brought about
by the jolt of a sudden death
or the fresh sting of
a broken relationship

It's not the aching sadness
  The somber introspection
of missed opportunities,
of wasted days
of long lost loves

It's not the oppressive sadness
that depression brings,
wrapping around your head
in suffocating silence
that leaves you numb to the world
that makes you believe that happiness was
only a fairy tale

Rather...

It's the warm sadness
as the tinges of autumn begin to show
and you realize that the summer
was never meant to last forever

It's a familiar sadness as you realize
that everyone changes
and the person you once were
no longer exists, for better or worse

It's the sadness that nostalgia
tows along with fond memories
of summer vacations
of drunken antics
of foolish lust
of fading friendships

The sadness that tells you that
"Things will never be this way again"

But also reminds you that they were never supposed to be

   and that's perfectly alright

Oh dear
Oh dear
I've happened upon a queer
I don't quite know
how this should go
luckily I have my rulebook here

Morality for Fools
tells me homosexuality is a sin
Now I'm allowed
To yell it out loud
and tell him how naughty he's been

Oh dear
Oh dear
My neighbor's wife is licking my ear
Oh what should I do?
What happens next?
Lucky I keep the rulebook on top of my desk

Morality for fools
tells me that adultery is wrong
so I ask her to leave
and she seems a bit peeved
as she was itching to get out of that thong

I'll be the first to confess
It's sometimes a mess
to keep it all straight in my head
You see, I have no morality of my own
so I use the book's instead

It's perfectly fine
and I really don't mind
It's so much simpler this way
I'd rather be told what to do in my life
than make my own choices all day

When that beautiful smile
lands on your radiant face
When my uncertain hands
find the curve of your waist
When our curious tongues
fill the in-between space

      These are the things
       that make my heart race

Those soft loving fingers
as they trace poems on my chest
Those enrapturing eyes
how they leave me refreshed
Those bountiful lips
and their quiet caress

       All the ways you amaze me
       I may never express

The stars in your eyes are exceptionally bright
My  love has nowhere to hide
They light up your path as you dance through the night
while I struggle to keep by your side

The stars in your eyes, they sparkle and shine
they lead me through the darkness and gloom
They gently remind me to cherish our time
They allow something special to bloom

The stars in your eyes, they burn through my fear
My insecurities have melted away
They seem to see through me, as you draw closer near
Those stars, they beg me to stay

The stars in your eyes, they hold a secret
one kept since our love began
Your breath at my ear, you beg me to keep it..
My lips meet with yours, once again

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

Your smile made my heart melt
So inconsiderate
For you knew just how I felt
then made a mess of it

Your laugh made my tongue tie up
It was awfully rude
I have all these things to say, my love
and there's nothing I can do

Your beauty made my eyes light up
It is so horribly unfair
I see the wonder hidden inside
your long, entrancing stare

Everything you do, and moreso everything you say
Causes my senses and my body to act in the strangest ways
It's quite alright, I really don't mind, you make it feel like home
I'd rather be crazy for you, than sane and all alone

You walk down the *****
cobblestone street
there is an old man
that you're going to meet

He has with him a paper
that contains my last wishes
It explains what to do
with my vast wealth and riches

You meander along
confused at this mystery
you see, we haven't spoke
since 2nd grade history

You enter the office
and are offered a chair
the man's tired eyes
give you a rather bored stare

He gets down to business
he hands you a key
and a card with an address
then he asks you to leave

Your curiosity wins
and you see yourself out
next thing you find yourself
in front of a house

This house is old
and decrepit and weary
hell, you'll admit it
it's just a bit scary

Taped up on the door
of this nightmarish lair
Is a note with your name
that just says "Downstairs"

Inside the house
the place looks like a wreck
as you do your best to ignore
the chills down your neck

You go down to the cellar
and you come to a halt
nothing to find
but a large metal vault

You grin with excitement
and you giggle with glee
your hand is shaking
as you put in the key

You swing open the door
and what do you find?
naught but a note
folded three times

You cautiously open it
and read it aloud
It says "Yur a dorkhead"
You furrow your brow

You haven't a clue
You turn the note in your hand
You're about to walk out
when the vault door is slammed

You scream and you shout
But try as you might
No one can hear you
that vault's sealed tight

While you sit in there rotting
just try and remember
who read that note?
Just who was the sender?

Who's the dorkhead now?

Sometimes when I hear about
the dreams of other people
I look at my own and think

I must be superficial.  In their
dreams there are winding paths
and reflections on still pools of water

There are subtle dew drops and
expansive fields of solitude.  They
speak of introspection and self growth

When I hear of the dreams of others,
I wonder what I can reflect on in
my own dreams and can think of
nothing

Then, when I'm depressed at
these thoughts that my mind
is playing against my will
I remember

I wrestled a shark.  how awesome is that?

You hit me like a thunder clap
                                         snap
                                 crackle
                              pop
                       ­ I don't wanna stop
                          don't wanna quit
                          can't wait one minute
                 We never had a choice
                                  we never had a chance
                              as we dance
                through this second glance
                                                 romance
                                          fancy that
                                I'm on my back
                        You attack
          we both see black
   black and blue
It's always been you
your warm rain upon my skin
                         You'll always win
                               I'll always grin
                   as your storm washes me away
                              to start again
                                     another day

Yesterday, I walked up
to a tiger, and asked him
if he was jealous of
the leopard's spots

As it turns out

Tigers don't talk.

On a related note,
I no longer walk

What would you do

if you found out that the truth was

that destiny was real

that your choices were predetermined

that an omnipotent being in the sky
had his big omnipresent hand
up your tiny unimportant ***

using you to act out its plan
each and every day

All your hopes and fears and special moments really did not belong to you

Those feelings of love, of hate, of excitement, of hopelessness existed only to move the story along, and it was not your story.  It wasn't any of ours.

What would you do?
What would you do?

**Exactly as you're ****** told

A man was invited to his boss's house for dinner.
The dinner was fabulous, made by a private chef
and served by the family butler.  It was, all in all,
a wonderful evening.

At the end of the meal, the man saw his host
collecting all the table scraps from the table.

"What are you doing?" asked the man
"Ah, well whatever I don't eat, I give to the butler and the chef."
"They can't buy their own food?"
"Well no, I pay them in scraps"
"That's terrible!"
"Why?  I eat my meal, I usually leave enough for them to live off of, unless I forget"
"Unless you forget?"
"Well, yeah...I mean a few glasses of wine and that food is as good as gone"
"You see nothing wrong with this?"
"Hmm...no.  Should I?"
"You are feeding your staff table scraps!  The amount they're getting is miniscule!  It's a miracle they haven't sued you!"
"Aha! I do see your point.  It is a rather meager amount.  Fortunately, since I'm such a clever fellow...I have a solution"
"You mean to give your staff full meals to eat?  Maybe pay them with money instead?"
"Haha, no no my simple man.  I'll just have them cook and serve more food!"
"What."
"Well it's rather simple.  If the amount of food that is cooked and served is increased, and I eat the same amount, then what's left over will be equivalent of a full meal!  Brilliant!"
"Well...yes...but what if you get drunk on wine and eat all of that food"
"I'm sure that I would never do such a thing.  Probably"
"Probably"
"Well, one can't always predict these things"
"So instead of giving them a fair meal, you'd rather them put in more effort and time so that they 'might' see an increase in their rations?"
"I know.  I should get a Nobel prize for this stuff"
"Or commited"
"What?"
"Um...commended"
"Quite right"

I've got that itch
that feeling
that maybe I've outgrown
my little section of map

It's time to blur the state lines
It's time to expand the boundaries
United States of whatever the hell I want.

There isn't much to it, really...

Just me and a gas pedal and a general direction

a little classic rock to keep me company

Simplicity.

Driving is so much more enjoyable
when you have nowhere else to be

Chasing the sun
Until the moon catches up

**** roads.


Bring me that horizon

Don't blame your dreams
For life's sudden twists
Nor condemn them as silly
things you once wished

A dream's reason for being
it's purpose and aim
is to bring you fulfillment
not just money or fame

They gave you hope through depression
they gave you a path through the trees
they were there to remind you
of all you could be

How can you stare down your dreams
How can you stand there and say
that it's the fault of your dreams
that you've ended this way

Your dreams asked you for nothing
They stood by you, steadfast
when the wine overflowed
when you'd broken your glass

Your dreams didn't do this
they made no decisions
they only showed you potential
they showed you a vision

There are few things in this world
as depressing or meager
Than a man with no hope
Than a dream with no dreamer

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

Every now and then
I'll wake up
with the sensation of not
knowing where I am

It's a very disconcerting feeling

to open your eyes and stare about the room
with new eyes

What is this place?
How did I find myself here?

I truthfully find it rather exciting.

Those few moments have an intoxicating intrigue.
I have a mystery set before me.
A new place, ready for new discoveries.
A fresh start

What does it say about me that
I sometimes find it rather....

disappointing

when my brain catches up to my body
and I glance around the room
that is suddenly not nearly as novel
as it was before.

Pacing back and forth, picking up her
cast off clothing

telling him it's not her fault.

It was a heat wave, she didn't
have a chance, as her clothes
dripped off her into puddles
on the carpet.

She was unprepared

An earthquake shook her, and she
fell down to the rhythm.  Once it
started, there was no going back.

She was just along for the ride

It was a tsunami of passion, she
just was caught in the rip tide
of desire, along with her inhibitions.

She couldn't escape

A volcano erupted, and ignited
something terrible from within her.  

A tornado of emotions tore through
her and left her ravaged

She was lost and alone

It wasn't her fault!

If anyone is to blame, it's those ****
Asian Butterflies, causing all these

Unnatural disasters

When I gave you your heart back
        
                  You claimed it didn't fit right anymore
                         You claimed it didn't feel like it used to
                          

Now I understand what you meant.

Do you suppose the essence of humanity tastes like cinnamon?
Does ecstasy destroy anticipation?
Have we ever lived?
Does the hurt fool reflect by drinking and shooting his gun?

I enjoy laughing at my missing lack of wealth....or was it health?
I definitely kept steady figures, in either case

This makes no sense, but at least it kept you entertained for a few minutes.

That was rude.

What an odd feeling it is
when you happen to look and see
an old and blurry photograph
and you think "How could this be me?"

How odd a feeling it is
when you think back to that day
the you from now wasn't yet then
then you was there to stay

Such an odd feeling it is
when you suddenly realize
that you would look as alien
as then you now looks in your eyes

You've grown and shifted
         your mind has sifted
out your childish ways

            Carefree thoughts
that simply cannot
           exist in your mind today

What an odd feeling it is
to look at that photo and say
who is that kid and however did
he end up here today?

What would I do for you?  There's lots of things, actually


I would spontaneously start speaking Hungarian for you...but it probably would sound like nonsense

and some Hungarian dude

   Would be all like "Haver, nem beszél magyarul"

        I would shrug, because
        
              I don't know Hungarian...

But I'd still do it for you, if you wanted me to.



I would fly us to ancient Mayan burial grounds, where we could

   Learn all about a lost culture

           We would run into a cursed
                
                   Mayan Chief, but he'd actually be pretty cool
          
              He would teach us how to do a rain dance,

         Every once in awhile he'd look at you and say "kíichpan"
  
   and I'd be like..."Dude, back off..."

                       He's like 2000 years old...
                                
                         ­    He's way too old for you.



I would carve you an Ice Sculpture in your likeness

        Taking care to make sure that every detail was perfect and reflected
          
            Your beauty
              
               In every possible way.

     I'm not too good at Ice Sculpting, though, so it might just end up looking
              
            Like an oddly-shaped block of ice.


      Sorry...

            I hope you would like it anyway



For you, I would count to infinity

     Which might not sound like a feat, at first

   But then I would count back to zero

  I'm pretty sure no one's done that before....

     I won't be able to do it all in one day

So it might take awhile...

                  Hope you don't mind waiting for me




    I would write poetry every day for you


            Because I know that I would never run out of things
  
       To write about







....Well, maybe every 'other' day.

Your whisper traces
lines through the air
playing games with my ears
without a care

It enters my head
and tickles my brain
it's soft
it's sweet
it's soothing as rain

It surrounds my heart
like a blanket of peace
I'm filled with the warmth
of passion's release

If your whisper alone
can affect me this much
I can only imagine
what you'd do with your
touch

You can be the sun
    and I'll be the moon

Locked in an eternal dance
                Never given the chance

To be together....


Until you expand into a Red Giant, destroying me and everything else in your path for millions of miles before shrinking into a faint white dwarf next to a planet now devoid of all life.

Hmm...

Perhaps I took that metaphor a bit too far.

Her words cleanse
they wash over him
like a wave and
he forgets that
the world is
wrong

for just a little while

Her words heal
they flow into
him like incense
and fill the cracks
of his soul with
hope

for just a little while

Her words radiate
they penetrate
his uncertain
heart and
allow him to
feel

for just a little while

Then she leaves
the world is wrong
the hope is gone
the feeling is numb

for a little while longer

Day Dreams want a mind
Don't think odd things
Like a memory of  memories
Look...I'm feeling hope

Worlds of my mind
Dreams of my heart
Loves of my life

Like the words in my head...

I just want the time of day
to think my way

He owned books on many subjects
leather bound, with complex concepts
on which he'd ponder and reflect

He had it all, in some respects.

He could lecture quantum physics,
English literature and economics
He was renowned in academics

Though many found him quite eccentric

He explored the world only to find
That there's more to life than a brilliant mind
That there was a piece of him...undefined

See, He had never loved. He'd never pined

He knew all the math, knew all equations
He'd been to every corner of every nation
He'd learned 28 languages, knew every translation

But he was distraught by this realization

The pain he felt was too great to bear
He sank into the deepest and darkest despair
His heart was in need of dire repair

Finding love was his only prayer

He bumped into her by happenstance
and what began as an ephemeral glance
became a sucker punch from romance

She thought he was sweet, so she gave him a chance

That's when the world's smartest man finally learned how to dance