My attic's full
Of Thank You's
That can't keep out
The cold,
But rafters
Hang with laughter
To warm me
When I'm old.

My basement's full
Of Pleases,
Poor fuel for the furnace,
But air vents
Carry welcomes
To keep us cool
Or warm us.

The shed is shelved
With If's and Buts
And jars of
Maybe bolts;
The fasteners
Of family ties,
The glue
Of hearts and souls.

Search the garage,
Open cupboards,
Lift the sideboard lid;
Step into closests,
Check under stairs,
You'll find them everywhere.
We use them freely,
Need them dearly,
Those small words
Sound so good.

It fascinates to ponder on
what lights a person's spark
What invokes an individual
To create a work of art
Would a sunrise inspire
poetic masterpiece
Or a mere brain ****?

Would the changing seasons
Bring writers blocks and wrongs
Or the falling leaf in the equinox
Make you wanna write songs?

To some a leaping cute spring lamb
Might give poetic joy in its wake
For others they forsee its beauty
On a top notch dining plate!

I came to a courtyard of my own making,
To a cottage by the sea at the worlds edge.
I furnished it with my left over life, complete,
Barren and colorless and I wrote the newest
Book of psalms out of tinder and flame, a tome
Of grey and useless poems, unheard of songs
And reams of flesh.  There in the lightest dark,
By the Druid stone that was placed just for me,
I planted a creeping yew tree.  And the moon
Sang in celebration and silence like a fallen
Priest.  
                    Under the covering hazel trees,
That sprung to life after the longest winter,
Which taught me to forget my name, I now
Struggle with light and my body, warring, torn
Is fading slow, like the always arriving, down
Turning solstice, the climates of the mind,
Where it is digging the never ending shallow
Hole only the spreading eternal yew, that I
Planted, will ever know and only the Lazarus
Moon shall ever rise above.

I came to a courtyard of my own making,
Was it dream that led me there or my eyes?

If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.

We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.

Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.

Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.

Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.

You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.

I miss the way my name slipped through your lips the way water slips through finger tips
and i miss the way our finger tips were laced better than any shoe
i miss the way we'd lay with one another as though we could get lost in each other but i could never be more lost than when i looked into your eyes
i miss the way you calmed the storms in my heart,
the way your loving hands formed works of art, constructed the safest of landings right from the start.
and i miss the way you used to run your fingers through my hair, as you'd sit and stare with whispers in your breath and a tenderness in your movement saying "i care"
I miss the way you didn't look through me like most, you looked deep inside, picked up every flaw and regret and made a toast to the wonders that made me me.
i miss the way i knew in one swift glance, from the look of your stance, what the chance of forever was, and it was almost as promised hitlers suicide, and how you carefully entered the dark valleys of my heart, where others had shyed.
and i miss the way we slotted together better than the little counters in the game of connect four
and i miss the way you'd hold open the door to your soul
i miss the way we reminisced and promised to grow old
i miss the way i felt when you hung a sign on your heart saying sold
and i was elated because though it was belated i knew i was the lucky one to have such an important piece of you
and i miss the way we'd do all those things we did between the sheets, the way our eyes would meet, before we closed them together and embarked further into our romance,
As we'd partake in a dance, that only we knew.
i miss the way you planted butterflies in my stomach and fireflies in my eyes, the element of suprise when you came home with flowers
i miss the hours we spent just laying content
i miss reading and rereading those messages you sent, the beauty of your intent
i miss the taste of your lips
the way my hands felt around your hips
i miss the way those glasses framed the most beautiful masterpieces I've ever seen, the way you'd take something i had no understanding of, and show me what it means
i miss the way you filled the cavities of my heart, with hugs and i love yous which warmed me better than any cup of coffee ever could
The way you made me feel, so, so good
I miss the way you etched my initials into your the insides of your eyelids and i did the same with yours
I miss the way you calmed the shores
And i miss the way you'd sparkle and shine as you'd sit and remind me that its okay not to be okay and its okay that we're gay because we didn't have to fit into social formality, i miss the clarity, the calming of the raging wars in my mind, the directions when i had no idea where to start to find myself
i miss the way you couldn't have cared less about wealth because you said as long as we had happiness and health we were already millionaires.
I miss the way you took the fires in me that could have burnt down entire cities, and slowly but surely extinguished them,
I miss the way we tied ourselves to one another with double knots until we forgot to tell each other just how lucky we were, and until we started to stop showing each other how much we cared but instead the bruises we bared from the only person that had ever cared so much it hurt
until we lost touch, both physically and mentally until the insides of you and me began to unravel from each other internally
until happiness could only be found in setting free the one thing I've never wanted to hold onto most,
until the host that had kept my heart beating and my hopes alive buried them in the tears that fell from your eyes. And i despise the way
the only place id ever felt like i was home was now the only place id ever felt so alone.

My Love,
No matter how dark the present
No matter how uncertain the future
I will forever love you

No matter how deep the valley
No matter how high the mountain
I will forever want to be with you

No matter how far apart
No matter the passage of time
In my heart I will forever be yours

Mkt

The world around me: Day after day it looks the same.
I hear the noise of the workers drilling in the basement
and watch people doing their business.
Here or anywhere other, it's the same.

Sometimes I think I am trapped. Trapped in former decisions;
decisions which always tend to reveal their full impact later.
I think about the mistakes I made and regret - what futile task
as past always stays past, petrifying words yelled and unspoken.

I'm not ungrateful - given my past suffering.
I'm not moaning - given freedom from my former pain.
I'm not unhappy - given that I was already happier tough.
I'm not doing nothing - given that it may look different to you.

Finally I got rid of this **** anxiety, which haunted me
from my first days at school to my last job,
these devastating thoughts of having to be better than everyone,
of being more, of deserving more
they just ate away at my soul
tearing myself apart
before hyenas did
their part.