They all start the same,
Three stars on a page.

Well, they're not really stars, are they?
Just three circles with some extending rays.

But they must bring luck, or maybe inspiration,
Since I can still write with my muse on vacation...

Three hours I searched for that airport, lost on the highway,
Man, if I'd have found it, I'd have parked right on the runway.

I didn't, I stalled on a service road, out of gas and engine dead,
And laid on the cold concrete, contemplating blowing off my head.

I need not have worried, or wasted my time on doubt,
'Cause when her plane flew over it obligingly tore my heart out.

Three days I waited to hear if she'd landed,
It'd still be another three weeks before I felt abandoned.

Three years later I was still waiting, did I give up too soon,
The night my heart broke under the October moon?

I knew she was standing under that same autumn sky,
But I finally understood,
That she stood under it with some other guy.

These stars are all I have left of her, nearly three decades later,
Three thousand stars on a thousand pages,
That are really just the holes in old notebook paper.

Words pour from my heart
Staining the page crimson
Shaking hand spatters ink
Pens azure life-blood leaking
Rhythmic refuge reverie
Beatboxed spittle
Tears accompany
Washing ink-blood
Into drumstick-pen dents
Petite purple puddles
Small seas of sadness
Storm-tossed soul
A sailor searching
Three-ring horizons
For spiral-bound cyclones

Pooky,

I love you
I miss you
I want you
I need you

You are every hope
You are every dream
You are my only wish

Expecting my hands to be soft,

Is understandable,

Not seeing the scars there,

That's classic.

I just wanted to say I love you before
I'm not forty-four anymore
Cause 44 = 2 x 22
And those numbers mean you

🐭🧀

I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,

                                                        ­      I am a little lever,
                                                    by wightish weight released.

                                                                     I am the
                                                          daring
                                             domino,

         Tip me over and off I go,

Tapping-time-toppling
                                        just as mapped,

                                                       Chain reactions
                                                                ­               crashing
                                                                ­                          choreographed.

                                                 ­               I am the ball bearing on its
                                                                ­                                     tilted track,

                                                         ­            Precariously poised
                                                                ­    awaiting that last flat

                                                               ­               CRACK!

                                                       ­    Startling astart at starting gun,

Gravity-well-willing I wobbly-spin-roll-run,

                                          ­                Back and forth I wander like a top,

Dizzily confused when off the end I
                                                                ­     plop.

                                                  It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,

This cup was here to catch me...              luckily.

                                                  Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,

                                      Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.

                              It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,

                                  Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.

                                  Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,

                         I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,

               Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)

        Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.

Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,

      I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:

                I'm also the water cascading through air,

                                                           ­   Splashing happily,
                                                        but predictably,
                                                   to be fair.

                            Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,

Releasing the cage, design-demanding.

                      Mouse
                       lever
                     domino
                        ball
                        cup
 ­                      robot
                      water
                       cage

I might even be the little mouses tiny outrage.

It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,

Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:

We seem to be missing one of the architects.

I supercharge every thought, every idea.
I pursue each concept and emotion to their ultimate possible conclusion(s).
I excite every particle to impossible speeds, spinning and colliding, combining and fusing.
Old painful emotions combine with new jarring thoughts and,
WHAM!
A new element is created.  
It is violent and eviscerating evolution at breakneck speeds.
And it never ceases.
Or slows.
It's not all bad though,
As I said, new elements are always being created,
New concepts,
Differing perspectives,
Brand-spanking-new thoughts created from the raging fires of the old.
I am far too logical to discard a thought, however painful.
It must be run through the particle accelerator,
Again and again,
Until it collides with so many other ideas
That it is completely obliterated,
By the formation of a new and superior understanding.

Forgiving doesn't always take away the pain
As if washed away by some mythical rain
Generously applied truth is the only salve
Duel-edged and sharp enough to cut us in half
Pain-reaction, recoil, trauma response
Defensive action, budding trust is lost
This is normal human behavior
PTSD drains, Hope is savior
Catalyst for anxious dread
Water in the desert when nearly dead
Grateful hands lift life to lip
Thankful for the sandiest sip
Kindness inspires compassion and understanding starts
Enlightening dark corners in sun and healing the heart

She was shopping

I was sold

In a pinch, you can use a pen to stir your coffee,
Thus proving that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.
I mean, seriously...
Have you ever tried to stir a cup of coffee with a Claymore?

pocket puppet
people in power
hands in pants
razing the tower
climbing thoughts
clinging ivy
emotions a-twitter
prey for thee
my country
'tis of these

It's not an altar

If I don't worship upon it

(Even if I still whisper prayers)


It's not a pedestal

If you don't stand atop it

(Only, I still look up to you)


It's not a quest

If you're no princess

And I'm no hero

(Yet, I still seek out dragons)


It's not a dream

If there's no hope

(And I still wake a million miles from you)

Ah shiny approval,

Warm and soothing on the skin,

Absorbed like a lizard,

When one is hypervigilant.

____

To wallow in and under drown,

To shape a tear, to form a frown.


Exaggerations embracing pain,

They weave a spell to summon rain.


A heart to crush, a mind to flood,

And veins that throb with rivers blood.


Confusion swims where soft truth flies,

A cauldron to mix a concoction of lies.


These fires scar, yet sear no flesh,

While times slow healing turns souls to ash.

I thought that because she was the love of my life
I would be the love of hers

I want world peace and hoverboards too
But those ain't happening anytime soon either
So much for childhood dreams, I suppose

Although to be fair, we do have watches that can make video calls.
So I guess that's 1/1000 or so.
Yay the future! 😕

Just wanna give a shout out to my mom and dad,

Who got married a full 3 months before I was born,

But despite whose valiant efforts,

I still turned out to be a *******.

I think I could
Hold together
I think it would
Knowing the truth
The center should hold
One would assume

I'm sorry for the snarky outbursts
Posing as poems
I'm beginning to think of it as my pain
Getting a good look at itself in the mirror
Tears and broken glass and all
It's just that it's not very pretty
And I apologize

I believe that she believed I did something horrible.

I believe that having been convinced, she passed judgment on me.

I believe that she will not allow herself to be convinced otherwise.

I believe that people believe what they need to believe, truth or not.

I believe that the heart knows what to believe, even when we don't.

Let nostalgia and what-ifs,
Should-of, would-of, and could-of,
Be no longer curses, but gifts,
Not the pain of loss, but the memory of love.

Let the years seem kind in their passing,
Let me revel not in the present but celebrate in giving,
In helping, in loving, in laughing,
Not just one closer to death but another year of living.

Let these words ease angst,
And soothe long-suffering sorrow,
Let the past be wreathed in lights, not pains,
Not days passed but another chance at tomorrow.

Today I've decided I've outgrown these tears,
I'm yet younger than the mirrors wrinkled clues,
So here's wishing you all the best of my years,
With a wink of these birthday blues.

Song of love, twisted by welling darkness.

Vengeful art, practiced with vicious subtlety.

The softest lips whispered the hardest lies.

She exhaled an evocation of ethereal dreams,

Whose only prophecy was eternal sorrow.

At least
If you're holding
A beer
You can blame
The beer
By asking someone
To hold said beer
While you do something insanely stupid.

You flow through my poetry

like the blood from the movie Alien

There's something amiss in my desperate laugh,
A misty, wistful wish, an algid disparate draft,
Finest thread of dread winding its way throughout,
Vines, verdant, spread, binding my hope to doubt,
Booming drum shaking foundations made of sand,
Tinkling of breaking glass creations out of hand,
Spilling out and over, released lest the dam burst,
Consuming as if lover, heedless of best-verse-worst,
Best nightmares, worst dreams, in the end, it's all the same,
Unheard cares and thoughts mean, play the grandest games.

I've cut open the corpse of this love
So I could crawl inside to survive
The eternal cold night of this loss

The thrumming of feathered wings reveals a sight,

Shimmering seas of forgotten starlight.

The ocean of sorrow between us two,

Even in dark dreams, it carries me to you.

Yours is the only light in these lonely eyes,

The fiery sun in the expanse of my skies.

Lightning may strike, fire may burn,

Yet no evil will make my heart turn.

No matter how complicated the map to your door,

I know it leads me back to my love, my heart, my core.

Ice blue chilly
Shadow dark
Trapped in memory
Entropically stark
Struck by epiphany
Zeptoseconds for a quark
A self-fulfilling prophecy
Bitten by its bark

So my cats are watching Dexter right now...
Yeah, you heard that right.
Two of them are kinda being alpha-y to each other,
They won't hang out in here at the same time,
So I leave a show on in the other room for the odd cat out.
Right now they're watching Dexter.
So I was just thinking,
Maybe that's not such a good idea,
Cats are already a bit murderous,
Maybe I shouldn't give them any ideas...

I have only my soul as sextant,
Life serves as map and almanac,
Destiny plotted by wave and wind,
Without your star to guide me back.

Love is bitter from age and neglect
Chains to bear breaking my back
Eyes deceive, thoughts betray
Tongues lie, souls decay
Words, like fire, torture and burn
Fire is soothing, pain must be earned
Ears distrust like lifeblood flows
Time is unending, destructive, and slow

__

Where once we met,

Passion stirred breezes for winds to form,

And drenched our hearts in it's growing storm.


Like clashing clouds each enveloped the other,

Releasing energies no depression could smother.


A thunderstorm raining lightning bolts,

Shamelessly shedding light in blinding jolts.


Water and Air, spinning, mixing, churning.

The chaos was music, the eye in a hurricane of yearning.


Oblivious, we destroyed, even as we created,

Endangered life as surely as rain sustains it.


The chaos of our perfect storm turned against us,

No music now, only the raging tempest.


Winds of passion calmed, storm-fronts collapsed within,

And the last teardrops of rain fell unforgiven.


Silence stretched, louder than any thunder,

Broken, after so long, by hope barely uttered.


With care hope grows, uplifts, and inspires,

Then sings of life, and love, and of passion like fire.


Testament to life, though unaware,

A butterfly batting its wings, stirring the smallest breath of air.


Now, a field of butterflies rise from dreams and cocoons,

A thousand tiny gusts of hope, born anew.


Innocent, they move the very sky,

Fledgling winds, breezes learning to fly,


Rising high above the meadow where they were born,

Quietly whispering prayers, of becoming a storm.

You can't steal a Queen

Unless she's playing games

In Soviet Russia,

Kids raise YOU.

Are you afraid to get close to me,

Because I'm not how you expected I'd be:

Because I'm not what you told yourself to see?

Could it be that you avoided remembering me?

Vision red with fear

Laced lighting white with pain

Green switch flare

Flushed pink with naked shame

Brown bark bares

Bruised blue by shouted name

Black eye 'neath sunglasses scares

Peoples faces purple with blame

In Soviet Russia,

Consequence face YOU.

There're always consequences for you,

But when you really love someone,

You'll make consequences for them too.

-Scratches face-

"Y'all got any more of them rhymes?"

-Scratches face-

"I'll give ya a cheeseburger for some rhymes!"

-Scratches face-

I curse like a drunken sailor with a stubbed toe and an eye full of Tabasco.

Renegade, rebel, foul-mouthed malcontent
Abused, abandoned, discarded, youth misspent
Smoker, toker, poem-writing music maker
***-sellin', ****-it-oh-wellin', no-****-taker

I'd probably have had a criminal empire if I'd kept my course
Instead of being an estranged father and statistic of divorce
Unemployable, unstable, emotionally unavailable basket-case
Polo-shirt-khaki-wearin' fashion-victim of the corporate rat race

I coulda been a gangsta, a rocker, an actor, or even a ****-star
It woulda been easy with my childhood and my broken-*** heart
I coulda had money, mansions, cars, endless drugs, and ***-on-tap
Instead, I gave that all up for a hopeless hope and a lonely fap

I guess that sounds kinda pathetic, but even that's alright
Because it won't be long before little man yells, "Dad, let's play Fortnite!"

Lonesome pair of warring stars each toiling against the other,

Immense gravities shadow-spar, the sky-fires tide and tether,

Spiral waves of brilliant sparks spin out on the edge of never,

Shining light gives way to dark, the eyes of heaven stare as ever,

Embracing entropy eon-stark yet twinkling twice as clever,

For that which forces stars apart is that which binds us together.

Dear Rapture,

It's been so many years, I'm so sorry to intrude,
I've so many things to say, but I've no desire to be rude,
I've tried to keep me locked away, during our long interlude,
I guess I've done okay, but so much has happened, and it isn't all good.

How are you?  I hope things are well.  I think about you, you know.
What've you been up to? Do tell! I haven't heard a word since so long ago.
I don't want to renew a war, but I had to either reach out or explode,
Tact's gone right out the door, for hope our hearts had adjacent zip codes.

What ever happened to you, what did you think, I wonder constantly,
You said give you space, or was it time, or was it just a slow-burn for me?
I always gave you the benefit of the doubt, but I just don't know lately...
I toss and turn, this garden bed feels like a grave, forgotten and buried.

The distance between us is further than any airline has ever been,
I'm sure that, like me, you've felt it growing since our relationships end.
I know we both hurt, we lost so many truths in all the confusion,
And I feel like the biggest loser of all because I lost my best friend.

If I sent this letter off, tear-stained and folded into a paper plane,
If it prevailed on the Trade Wind and soared away to your windowpane,
If it tapped ever-so-lightly, would you let it in or would you refrain?
Would you turn it away, unread, to dissolve in the Cascadian rain?

Maybe I'm hoping beyond hope, a delusional version of Lion-O's sight,
I just had to try one last time before we drift off into that long goodnight,
Though I go not gently, I'm no devil and I've no desire to cause a fright,
But hell, I'd wrestle all the angels in heaven if it was a question of might.

Well, I guess there's nothing I can do but fold it up and throw it hard,
Try not to shed a rogue tear when the movie gets to that part,
And whenever the clock says 2:22, 3:38, or 11:11, I'll wish on a star,
Truly, I just want you to know I care,

I love you,
Sincerely,
From,
Afar

Bury me beneath assumption
Obfuscate me behind illusion
Crush me under false proof
I'd love to be lost in your confusion
Where each epiphany and every realization
Is you

She wanted all the benefits,
But none of the responsibility.

She needed me to love her,
But didn't want to care about me.

She expected me to follow her,
But she didn't want to lead.

She hoped I would decode her riddles,
But she wouldn't take the time to see.

She extracted a promise from me,
Then hid behind it like a tree.

She left me to live in chains,
But I am human, and I am free!

If she were to do all the things
That she expected of me,

Maybe she would swallow her pride,
And finally begin to understand me.

Have you ever seen that video where they put food coloring in milk
and then they drip one drop of liquid soap in the middle and
it pushes all the food coloring away?

You do that to my nightmares.

We eviscerated our love as if on demand,
Like fictional characters with scissors for hands.

If life were a movie, we would have pieced it together,
Using all our hope we'd rebuild it stronger and better.

We'd have a book of movie quotes we could use for a brain,
Then we'd just have to get these claymation hearts animated again...

We'd have them personally reassembled by a Halloween king,
And expertly stitched at the hands of an undead queen.

Our spirits safe, inhabiting invincible dolls,
We could rewind time, so the bombs never breach the walls.

If it was something we drank that made us feel small,
Could there be a tiny cake that would reverse it all?

Could it be the golden ticket to the show where we met?
Or would an offer of friendship bring up confusion and regret?

You may believe that I'm only enchanted by the path not taken,
But I hope, that like me, you too are a dreamer awakened.