Gloomy,
Cold,
Grey,
Clouds nearly kissing the lake,
Rain falls gently on the tin roof,
John Mayer singing in the background,
I put another log on the fire,
Grabbed my favorite book,
Curled up under my blanket,
And began to read.
My cup of tea steaming on the table,
And the cat lying at my feet.
I stare out the window as a family of ducks floats by,
The only ones out on this,
Gloomy,
Cold,
Grey,
Rainy day

First, I was dying to grow up and finish school,
Then, I was dying to finish college and get a job,
Then, I was dying to get married and have kids,
Then, I was dying for my kids to finish school,
Then, I was dying to retire,
Now, I am dying,
And I realize,
I forgot to live.

I thought walking was hard,
But then I tried running.
I thought cleaning up my toys was hard,
But then I had to clean my house.
I thought addition was hard,
But then I learned pre-calc.
I thought school was hard,
But then I went to college.
I thought losing my dog hurt,
But then I lost my grandma.
I thought I wanted to grow up so fast,
But sometimes I just wish I was a kid again.
Looking back, these hurdles I thought were so big were just tiny stepping stones creating the path for today.
Looking back, I look forward to the new hurdles,
The new challenges I will conquer.

We seek attention,

Facebook,
Twitter,
Instagram,
Tinder,
Kik,
Snapchat,
It's all about the most
Likes,
Comments,
Retweets,
Favorites,
Snaps,
Followers,
Where have our real friendships gone?
When something goes wrong we post a selfie,
write a status,
send a snapchat,
or tweet about it.
For what?
For the hopes to hide our feelings on the internet.
For the hope that a stranger will like it,
That a stranger will leave a comment saying everything will be okay?
We have become numb.
Forgetting the real relationships in our lives.
When there's a problem, we escape to the internet for that next like instead of talking to someone who actually cares.
When we don't get the attention we're looking for, we post a #selfie to find what we're looking for.
Social media has become the new drug of our age,
And it's changing the way we live our day to day lives.

It was a hand me down,
An old Chevy that grandpa didn't need,
It was just a little truck,
But it would do,
Blue and silver, with rust sprouting up here and there,
A creaky tailgate,
No ac, but a sunroof,
Comfy seats that held you like a race car,
The smell of dust wafting from the vents
It had a little engine that needed work,
It had old tires that needed to be replaced,
A layer of dust that needed to be washed off.
But I didn't care,
It was my first truck!

New engine,
New tires,
A deluxe wash at the co-op,
And a black ice air freshener,
This truck was born again.

Spinning tires and dust flying,
Rolling down the streets and tearing up the gravel roads,
This truck purred like a kitten.
I didn't care if people had bigger trucks,
Newer trucks,
Fancier trucks,
This was my first truck
And I loved it!

Today I pondered the thought of "what is poetry," I became frustrated when i didn't know and couldn't answer it.  I looked it up but I still wasn't satisfied.  Here is what I think poetry is.

Poetry is personal,
It is a song without a melody,
It is the inner feelings that can only be expressed through writing,
It's peaceful,
It's angering,
It's frustrating,
It's satisfying,
It's a memory,
It's a dream,
It's a wish,
Poetry is a release,
A way of relaxing,
Sometimes it's easy
Sometimes it's hard.
Sometimes the words come flowing faster than you can write,
the next time you sit searching for the right words to say.

Now i'm on my knees praying God help me, get me out of this rut that I've been living in for so long.  I can't help myself anymore.  I need your help.  I keep gong back to my old ways but this life i'm living ain't getting me nowhere.  When i stare in the mirror I don't see you.  I see the reflection of a broken man.  Hopeless, lifeless but it ain't enough to change.  The old ways are all I know.  I want to change but i don't know where to go.  I've been told to pray but I don't know what that is.  
What do I do?
Are you even listening?

Sometimes being first isn't always best,
Sometimes you need to step down to step up,
Sometimes you need to take a step back to move forward,
Sometimes failing is the only way to succeeding,
No matter what you do,
Do your best.
Don't worry about the guy beside you,
The guy in front of you,
Or even the guy behind you.
Worry about your battle,
Your progress,
Your race.

He took the bullet
For a man
He didn't even know

Snow melting slowly,
Blossoms approaching new life,
Spring takes its first breath

First snowfall falling,
Pure, perfect, white fluffy snow,
Stealing Falls last breath

His weak reflection
Failure to commit and attempt
Will never succeed

Time

Coming and going at the same time,
Always moving without permission,
Here one instant,
And gone the next,
There is a time to live,
And a time to die,
Bad timing,
Perfect timing,
In the nick of time,
And the time of our lives,
Whatever the time is,
Use it wisely,
As is comes and goes,
We can never get it back.

I cry myself to sleep every night,
Thinking of how badly i want to be with you,
And you keep living your life,
Like I don't even exist anymore.

She was dressed like one,
She was standing there on the corner,
Low cut white tank top,
Short jean skirt,
With red high heels on her feet,
Just outside the convenient store
Under the dim light,
Neon sign buzzing above her head.
She was a lady of the night.

A man with greasy hair,
Baggy jeans with a hole in the knee,
Ketchup stained Led Zeppelin shirt,
And a green toque with a joint sticking out over his ear
Came sauntering down the street,
Passing by each street performer,
He stopped at the girl.
“Everyone’s got their price,”
“What’s yours?”

She whispered into his ear
And they walked off.
Into the darkness around the corner,
Escaping into the night.
She was about to give him
His Red Light Ride…

These winding roads surrounded by crippling trees,
Casting shadows of darkness over my car,
Tempting me to turn back and try another,
Each curve beckoning a dead end,
The further I go the narrower it gets,
The darker it gets,
The fiercer the trees are becoming,
The thoughts now getting foggy,
Hoping its not another dead end.
No map can decipher these roads I’ve travelled.
I don’t know where these roads are taking me,
But I keep travelling these roads,
Trusting they lead me to something better.
These roads have lead me astray before,
But not this time.
Something about this road feels better…

The struggle with writing poetry,
Is that my brain is a whirlpool
Of thoughts,
Dreams,
Memories,
And ideas.
The struggle is pulling those ideas forward
Out of my imagination and writing them down.
It takes time,
It takes patience,
Sometimes my brain has a flood of ideas,
Simply to be washed away when the pen hits the paper,
But I leave the thoughts
Hanging by a thread,
Writing it down and coming back another day,
Adding bits and pieces day by day.
The struggle with writing
Is sifting through the thoughts,
Finding the perfect words
For that meaningful poem,
But I guess that’s what makes
My writing different from yours,
Its what makes my poetry mine,
Its what makes poetry,
Poetry

Her lips like honey,
The residue leaving me wanting more,
Her eyes, so big, so bold,
So beautifully brown,
That smile that can shine
Even on the darkest days,
Her voice, so sweet, yet seductive,
That shooting star,
That 11:11 wish,
She is my dream come true,
On my wedding day,
My gorgeous bride
Will soon be mine,
Sealed with a kiss,
A commitment for life,
I can’t wait for you
To be my wife.

Sun rises early,
Dew glistening on the grass,
Smell of fuel floating in the air,
I climb in the seat and
Start my plane.
Moving slowly
I line up on the runway,
Firewall the throttle
And move down the runway.
Wheels lift as I soar into the sky
Feeling weightless,
I climb into the smooth air,
Feeling free,
Alone,
Absolute peace,
I, am flying,
There is no rush anymore,
It’s as if
Time,
Stands,
Still,
I could stay here forever,
This feeling like a drug
Holding me here,
Not wanting to come down
Staying up as long as
The fuel gauges let me
But then it’s time,
Time to come back down,
Back to reality,
Back to the busy world,
I come back to the airport
Entering back into the circuit
Lining up for landing,
The wheels touch the tarmac,
That squeal of the tires
Snaps me back into reality,
Back to the rush
Of the real world,
I can only wait
Till next time,
The next time those
Wheels leave the runway
And I re-enter
My temporary high.

I can only imagine
What it would be like,
To see my baby girl
For the first time in my life

I can only imagine
Holding that little bundle of joy
Seeing my baby girl
Smiling back at me

I can only imagine
Taking my little girl
To her first day of school
Seeing that face,
Fear, happiness, sadness,
What would it be like to let you go

I can only imagine
Watching you growing up
Bringing you to ballet and
Teaching you how to ride a bike

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Teaching you how to drive
And handing you the keys

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Seeing my baby girl all grown up
In her senior year of school

I can only imagine
You walking across that stage
Receiving your diploma
Graduating from college

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Seeing my girl in white
Walking you down that isle
Giving you away
To your prince charming

I can only imagine
What it would be like
To see your little kids
Running up to me

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Laying in that hospital bed
Staring up at you

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Seeing my little girl
for the last time in my life

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Saying goodbye to my baby
And what it would be like to let you go

I can only imagine
What it would be like
Looking down from above
Seeing you standing at my grave
Helpless, crying, and not wanting to let go

Dust
From dust we were formed,
Made in his image
Created from the depths of the sea,
Formed into perfect humans

Blowing in the wind,
Making its own path,
Just as we humans carve
Our own paths

One spec can blind a man,
Just as one man can change the world;
One spec, one man, one change, one world,

From dust we were made,
And to dust we shall return,
Living species in a world of dust,
And in the end all we are,
Is dust