I'm not in the mood to write a poem, it just isn't in me to write tonight.
Others compose and some transcribe, while I ponder my plight out of spite.

I can't go a day much less three, without spilling some ink to thought.
I have no agenda, it's not very good, and most would prefer I not.

But I'm compelled I'm not sure why, these whims they must be contained.
Sorted and stacked in no real order, till nary a thought remained.

Placed before a very few, it is a banquet of souls exposed.
We pick and choose what we like, at times we turn up our nose.

It just doesn't matter if you like this poem just as you don't like me.
It isn't my soul, it's just some thoughts of what could and couldn't be.

Alas though here I sit, because something inside says I must.
The beauty of the irony is, it is this something I do not trust.

So I write more times than not of a woman I may not ever know.
Of how my heart wept on a cold winters night not so long ago.

The glow of her skin, the things she said that probably were not true.
The feel of her lips like petals I'd say perhaps roses caked in dew.

Or maybe I'll pen a little something that maybe makes no sense.
It doesn't matter, I have to write or else I get too tense.

So I'm done now, I've said my piece, and I thank you once again.
It's not for you. It's for her. I call her my favorite sin.

There are days I want to wake up and start a little fire
Then maybe drive a little further and perhaps I'll start another.
Then again I think that I'll probably keep it going
Just lighting fires all around me so that I won't be cold
I'll lie down and listen to the sirens wail off in the distance
I imagine it to sound like banshees howling at the flames
The fires will pop and crack as they spread outwards and inwards
Bearing down on my position determined to consume its creator
A symphony of terror and chaos, a force hungry for carnality
Lives ruined and dreams rendered to piles of soggy ashes
Air, ripe with the stench of death and misery, choking lungs
The sky a slurry of blackened smoke wafting like after thoughts
And I'll think to myself "what a wonderful world"

If you ever.
Had any empathy for me.
One tattered shred of respect.
You’d let me go.
Confess there was never any love.
Lift your wings and go.
Sever me.
Curse me.
I beg of you.
I don’t tell you this.
But it hurts.
I need you to go.
It has to be you.
You have to be the one to do it.
Because I love you too much to do it myself.

You're gone.
And I have to learn to live with that.
You found what it is you've been looking for.
You're happy.
And you're gone.
Gone and happy.
A wake of loneliness trails behind you.
I used to have someone to talk to.
Someone who would sometimes read my ****.
I told her to go.
I didn't think she'd disappear.
It hurts.
So I drink.
It doesn't make the pain go away.
I just temporarily forget why I'm hurting.

so this is a poem about nothing
so you might be on your way
if you're hoping it becomes something
this may well ruin your day

atomically I'm 99% nothing
so what of my thoughts of you
those ones that just leave me wanting
the ones that leave me askew

nothing happened and nothing's clear
something was and now it's gone
nothing holds nothing dear
somethings final curtain drawn

nothing only need be said
and i might have one less scar
some things should be left for dead
not shared across a bar

nothing is as something was
and that is what's to be
in a hundred years they won't remember
you them or me

I've watched the stars.
Pondered their journeys through time and space. Wondered what they could tell me of the past.
I've stared at the moon. Locked in its ecliptic dance as it plays with our oceans, hearts, and minds.
The sun too has held me in a trance. Apollos burden radiating incessantly against its own eventual demise.
All of these things so beautifully elegant in their mysteries. Enrapturing the imaginations of mankind for thousands of years.
I close my eyes to their wonder, beseeching them all to measure up to what I see in my minds eye. Forever enduring to fail despite the arguments they pose in opposition.
For when my lids are down and that smile stretches its arms across my face, they know. I am thinking of you and not a one of them could ever live up.

A happiness I’d never known before and will never know again.........Jaxon

I love you.
"Why?"
Because you're good.
"No. I'm not."
Yes
"If I'm so good. Why don't I love you?"
That's why you're good.

Tell me you hate me.
If you're not going to touch me.
If you want to stand over there.
Say it.
Tell me you hate me.
Let it out.
I'm not here to kid myself.
I'm not here to contend with me.
That's been done.
Now say it.
Tell me you hate me and let's be done with it.
It's been for too long for I.
And yet I have a nights ride ahead.
Before I finish this drink.
Let me hear it.
If it were ever needed to be said.
If but for the sake of one time.
Just say it.
Tell me you hate me.
So that I know you once loved me.

I want to write about you
I really do
I want to tell the world about you
Remind it just how lucky it is to have you
How it is the night falls down around your face
The things you hate about yourself that I love
How the best way to warm up a cold room is to make you laugh
But I can’t
As hard as I try, I can’t
Because as it turns out
I never really knew you at all

Or how about when you realize just how little you mean to someone who means so much?

The days sometimes pass by as if on an assembly line.
The mind goes numb at the very thought of it.
And sometimes the void takes over, falling over our perceptions like a veil.

Staring blankly into nothing having succumbed to the monotony.
That same glazed look in the eyes of a captive animal born wild.
Is this it!

Grasping at anything that even resembles a spark of hope.
Something that'll prevail us to think that it is worth it.
The illusion the idea that we can live with until we die.

Well let’s shave off its skin now and turn up those tunes.
I’ve tried every move and you keep reading those runes.
Show me this love that you buried up on that hill.
You can’t swallow your pride so I’ll just swallow these pills.
Now keep up the banner that you so proudly stand by.
The one you and I know is just another **** lie.
Pan died alone by the forest and glens.
But he never claimed that he would die for our sins.
So take up your pen and say what’s never been said.
The ink’s drying fast and I’m already dead.

Those brilliant fireflies of winter.
Hovering about trees, bushes, and snow ladened gutters.
Some yellow
Others green, blue, and white
Until snuffed out by their hosts
Even the reds
The embers
The frost creeps up and collapses on my car
My hovel
Not as fortunate as the fireflies
I fade off
In hopes that Luna makes haste tonight
It is cold

I never claimed to be witty, handsome, clever, or smart.
A wandering nomad of nothingness.
Another broken heart.

You’re wrong you know?
The darkness does nothing to muffle your cries.
I can still hear you.
You can hide here in the arms of the night.
I’m not going to pull you into the light.
Nor will I try to bring some light to you.
I just wanted you to know
I’m here too.
If you like
I’ll come stand beside you.
Even when you want to stand in the rain,
So no one’ll see your tears.
I’ll stand with you.
You can tell me your story,
And I promise I won’t walk away
We can stay here together, and listen to the rain.
When you feel better and are ready to step back out into the sun.
I’ll wish you only the best.
And when the storms come back, Hope isn’t lost.
Because I’m still here
In the rain
Where you left me.

You want to be happy?
Stay dumb.
Don't inquire, don't learn, don't be curious.
Grow numb, stay dumb.
Once you know otherwise.
You can't go back.
And it *****.
The ultimate key to happiness. The secret they won't tell you.
Is to stay as dumb as **** for as long as you can.

Love it seems.
Is finding that one tortured soul.
Who's frequency aligns with yours.
And although you see the pain others suffer.
You single out this one person as the one you want to save.
The one for whom you'd give your life if it meant that they would not have to suffer anymore.
And they in turn for you.
Thus cancelling out each others pain.
Only to exist through each others bliss.

Says one who is unsure as to whether or not he's ever been loved.
(sips whiskey, lights up cigarette, and curses the moon)

I've seen you.
One time you were seated on a bus. In the back to be more precise. You had your headphones on and you were reading. You were a little nervous. Maybe it was your first time on public transportation. Maybe it was your destination.
You had long black hair. It looked to me like black water, flowing out of the top of your head and tracing its way down to your shoulders. You'd smile occasionally and I'd hope that it wasn't something you were reading. I imagined instead you were thinking of someone. Because it appeared to be one of those smiles that occurs when someone fondly remembers something.
We both got off at the same stop and you asked me where Elm street was. The warmth you exuded at that moment set me at ease. I told you and you thanked me. I watched you walk away. I wanted to follow you. For my own selfish reason. So that I could go on about my day knowing you were ok.
I still think about you.

You on the other hand. You were my only friend in a strange place. I don't know why. I don't know how. We just paired up for reasons mysterious in nature. You were stunningly beautiful. If I had to describe you in the most apt manner I could. Unrealistically beautiful. But there you were.
We walked for hours. We discussed philosophy, relationships, people, love, and candles. There were just so many candles. You told me of your dream to race the Iditarod because it would be something no one would expect of you.
When we at last arrived at the end of our journey, you kissed me. Then you said "thank you for being here" and you left. Like a **** in the wind you stunk up my dreary ****** life with your beauty, sense of humor, and kindness but for a moment in time.
I've never forgotten you either.

Then there was you.
Everytime I see you my heart breaks because it knows it'll have to say goodbye to you. I've cursed the day I met you a thousand times everyday since. It seems only Anubis carries the balm that could sooth my heart.
Your laughter is my favorite song. You're artistic in motion and a melody by nature. In just knowing you, one is happy. because in knowing you one can imagine a world brighter. Void of darkness wherein hope springs eternal.
And though to you I am but another page. Full of words with no stock value. Looked upon only to feed a gluttonous urge.

On a cold hallowed night on the outskirts of town.
When the mist settles thick on that hollowed ground.
Not much happens it’s really quite boring.
It’s a wonder by now that you’re not snoring.
But through the woods into the valley below.
Next to the willow where the lavenders grow.
You’ll find a crypt of something so vile.
It looks of death and reeks of bile.
It’s a skull and crossbones pirate hat.
I got drunk last night and I puked in that.
I threw it in the crypt cause why the **** not.
It’s not something I want it’s just something I got.
Now if you want to know about that house on the hill.
Does blood pour from the walls and onto the sill?
A child eating demon they say lives up there.
It’s in the clause, buyer beware.
Her name is Charolette and she has eight legs.
She ate all her children. The Bobs and the Pegs.
But I think she was killed by a chick with a broom.
They say it happened in the dining room.
To this very night if the winds should stand still.
And you listen closely to the house on the hill.
You may hear the sounds of children dying.
Running and screaming, it’s terrifying.
Those thousands of spiders just been born.
To their mothers will and her hunger scorn.
I know. I failed. I’m just not a good writer.
But I smoke a lot of *** so I do have a lighter.

Here is what I’m drinking
And why yes I have been thinking
In your eyes, between your thighs, I find myself just sinking
So here’s what I goes
Let’s see where this thing propose
On your nerves, along your curves, I might just bite your toes
No way am I too *****
I’ve still got lots of drunk
But now you’ve gone and brought up kids and my ***** done up and shrunk

The names I have acquired from those I hold most dear.
Some are quite obscure, while some are crystal clear.

A ****, a liar, and a  hypocrite just to name a few.
I suppose I'm not so good at picking up the que.

I once wandered to a field where I thought I would find peace.
Where the voices that weigh so heavily would finally come to cease.

I stood out there all alone and while the sun massaged my back.
It was then and there I guess, where I first saw the crack.

My illusions I guess they suffered too underneath the strain.
Unable to bear the weight of going against the grain.

Regrettably I stepped up and put my eye up to the crack.
What lies beyond my illusions? In what there do I lack?

A fallacy in my logic weeping there upon a ledge.
Inching closer to the fall, toes curled over the edge.

I said nothing just braced myself for I knew it had to be.
Another point of reference in what I was to see.

This fallacy is that I am of someone worth a thought.
That you would stop and think of me, an idea I had bought.

When in fact there it stood, the truth that caused the break.
Shining through the illusion, like the sun upon a lake.

Now you would think I'd spackle this and simply walk away.
But if I'm to be reminded I must leave it for today.

To come back to this illusion and be reminded of the truth.
That my presence matters not, is no mystery for a sleuth.

Today I had many plans, all of them fell through.
From going to a party to hanging out with you.

I suppose I'll go back to that field and gaze into the sun.
Where the silence follows me and the imagination runs.

45 years just wasted
Not a **** thing to be shown
Wandered in on a whisper
Leaving with a groan

No wife, no house, no savings
No love to write about
Nothing ever ventured
No hope but lots of doubt

Heed this little warning
Lest you end up where I lie
Find and hold your love
Long before you die

I go now to the shadows
For I never had the light
Soon to be forgotten
Cause to live I had no right

It seems the hardest concept for most people to grasp.
Is the suggestion that their existence is inconsequential to the universe.

My shadow is happier than I.
It only appears on bright sunny days.
Playfully splashing in crepuscular rays.
It doesn't know sorrow, envy, or pain.
It has no fear and has never seen rain.
Love burdens it not, it has not a care.
A wandering nomad who's neither here or there.
I dare not imagine of what he dreams.
A peaceful world alive with streams.
Perhaps one day he'll take me there.
To that place where I'm allowed no care.