I shout inside my skin,
broken outside and in.

I sounded strange to men,
deranged to the women.

I shutter to my pen,
I live in the lion’s den.

Up flew the moonlight tide
flying like a stairway to the clouds.
The light blue stars twinkled
showing the impressionistic side
of the art that is supposed to be
the playing of dice by the four forces.
The beauty of it all seems suspicious.
Never mind it all, lets swim to the clouds.

Such a cruel world.
Born to cry
Raised to weep
Whipped to work

You next class starts in a minute,
better not be late for the bell,
because the bell tells you
where you should be.

Work work work.
What ever happen to nap time?

A harking shadow from past times
came back to bomb blast my last rhymes.
It came back so suddenly, with a fit of rage.
Now all I do is write cute page after page
of feelings that do nothing but bloat my mind.
Now all I feel like doing is trying to find a new grind.
A distraction for whats behind my memory's rind.

Simple mental satisfaction is what I long for.
What I remember now is what I abhor.
Take me back to a time before the days I deplore,
take me back to what I adore.

When the answers are rigged,
change the solution.

Woe be to the lady of seasons!
Persephone and Demeter argue.
As neither can forgive dear family,
we are lost! We are sunk! Polar icecaps
melt to the tension of their bickering.

Poseidon’s domain increases ever more!
His power does drive our beaches and shores
higher! Higher! Higher ever more!

Georges Seurat paints my vision,
my eyes see through his art,
but that's the nice way of saying
you are closer if I shut my right eye
and farther if I shut my left.

Somedays, I read "O" as "Q",
and occasionally, you aren't you.
You are that person whose face,
hair, and build are similar
to that other person I know.
Your voice will give it away,
unless you walk close
on a cloudless sunny day.

Hello resident of apartment 6B,
I'm so happy you think
I'm your stinking mongrel's
best chance at a bowel movement!
While you're at it,
go play with some matches!
Better yet, park your car
next to me on the street!
I have a real job,
and I'm not employed
at Don's Johns!
Maybe if you set
yourself on fire,
you'll see me as something
other than a porta *****!

It all starts with
the perfect crust.
Not too thick,
not too thin,
with just the right
amount of crunch.

Classic crust

Hello, my friend
from the wall.
You follow me day by day.
This game we play,
where you mimic me,
is my favorite.
When I am next to a fire,
there you are next to me.
You are there
like I'm the most
important person in the world.
You’re the friend that never leaves,
and you never mutter a word.

Swinging it back
Gulping it black
Sugar is too sweet
To symbolize
Emotion

A rose blooming in a summer rose bed
stops to envy you as you smell the roses.
For two beauties sit in the picture,
but neither is the rose.
The sight of you is a wonder to my eyes,
one that keeps me warm through winter days.
The grace inside you is as beauty
and beyond my words to explain.
So when I fumble my syllables,
embrace me as the rose embraces the rain.

The beginning of the end should begin with you,
but you're not the end of the adventure,
you're the only scene in a never-ending love story.

Do I feel creative today?
No.
Do I feel like writing poetry today?
Hell ya!

American barcodes
All sit with a grin.

American barcodes
Can’t you see my skin?

American barcodes
I’m wearing my mask.

American barcodes
The police don’t ask.

Lawns of grassy blades
flow towards the nightfall
through a silver dust squall
snowflakes spin cascades

Jack Frost pays the cost
putting us under his thrall
while we're held in his loll
Demeter's daughter is lost

Hades imparts frosty shades
until Persephone's call
ease's her mother's bawl
ending our snowy escapades

I promise you I’m not worried
About the trials of life

I promise my nightmares
Mean absolutely nothing.
That the vivid visions
Don’t dance in my mind
Or send me painful messages
That haunt my day.

I promise you I’m not worried
When deadly air topples the world,
Closes my recreational parks,
Locks all my favorite restaurants.
I’ll just sit at home like a good boy
And play around with little toys.

I promise it’s all just static,
That the sky can’t weather
what my mind can dream,
That I’m not falling apart,
At the seams microscopically.

My pen slithers in poetic taboo
For as it writhes, you’d think it frail
Sliding along the garden’s morning dew
Polished diamond-shine upon each scale

Writing the lines as though I rhyme in schemes
Reptilian only within my dreams

Love sits like a rock, ticks like a clock,
drops like a thermonuclear warhead.
Never ending, resists bending, snaps
back like a palm tree after a beach storm.
Unfazed by summer's heat, talks on a beat,
grand standing through each of our eyes.

River water kept flowing
Time kept ticking away
Seconds never seen again
Faded from the candle’s flame.

READ the poem before your eyes.
Speaking aloud is a pleasant surprise
for the sitting poem, in disguise,
is waiting for a reader to watch it’s sunrise.

From the writer’s chair
Words explode from thought

Rising from the seat
With both feet planted
As roots in the soil

Head soaking up the sun
Like photosynthesis

The lips, the gateway of the mind,
open to form the singing of birds,
the blooming of daffodils,
and the colors of paintings.

They say all is fair
    In the chase after the wind.
        As it blows to the North bringing frost
                Snow falls upon my love as war and lust
                                          become bed mates.