Good morning creatures
This is your father speaking
Love my sun today

You are a Woman of Iron,
Composed of high expectations,
Forged with strong morals.
Quenched by the coldness of the world.

Your determination stands firm against all challenges.
Victories are graciously and easily surrendered to you.
Energetic and effective action.
All around you, people take notice.

Your are a Woman of Silk,
Your feminine form, undeniably ****.
Your sweet odor is of respect and admiration.
Your skin, amazingly smooth & firm.
Your sensal lips draw me closer.
Your smile, beautifuly contagious, brightens all the day.
Your blue-gray eyes, sparkle of happiness and captures my soul

Your sassy auburn hair, thick and shinney,
bounces and flows as you graciously move about.
Your voice is soothing, it sings to my heart.
Your laughter, lifts my spirits,

A perfect combination, you are...
A woman of Iron & Silk!

You only live once.
You only live once.
You only live once.
I hear it every ******* day.
As if it’s something that I need to be reminded of.  
I hear it so often that at this point I wonder,
if it means what it used to.
You only live once.
It’s a scary phrase to me.
I dislike hearing it.
It’s this constant reminder that this life is limited.
It’s a constant reminder that this life is fragile.
It’s a constant reminder that I don’t get do overs.
It’s a constant reminder that I won’t get the chance to do everything I need to
It’s not enough time to break,
it’s not enough to heal.
It’s not enough time to inhale
It’s not enough time to exhale.
It’s not enough time to talk.
It’s not enough time to walk.
It’s not enough time to listen.
It’s not enough time to understand.
It’s not enough time to meet.
It’s not enough time to befriend.
It’s not enough time to start.
It’s not enough time to finish.
It’s not enough time to help.
It’s not enough time to be helped.
It’s not enough time to be sad.
It’s not enough to be happy.
It’s not enough time to paint.
It’s not enough time to write this poem.
It’s not enough time to love.
It’s not enough time to be loved.
It’s not enough time.
I don’t know,
maybe it’s just me,
writing this poem at 1:30 in the morning.
Stewing on the fact that this life it too short,
to accomplish anything.
Every night I struggle to sleep with the thoughts of the upcoming day’s events.
With the thoughts of that past day’s events.
I’m kept up at night distracting myself from all the mistakes I’ve made.
All the words I never said.
All the opportunities I didn’t take.
All the times I didn’t "only live once".
I sit here realizing this cliché doesn’t apply to me at this point in the night,
or rather the morning.
I’m realizing all the times I’m kept up like this,
I’m not living,
I’m forgetting how to.

I was sitting on a train with my pad and a pen, trying to write a poem. I had no title, but I had written down the first line

...I was sitting on a train with my pad...

A man sat opposite me.
After a minute or so of scanning his paper and throwing cursory looks in my direction
he enquiried "What are you writing?"

"I'm trying to write a poem about a man trying to write a poem on a train
who gets asked by a stranger 'what are you writing'.

"Can I be in it?", asked the stranger opposite.

"You already are", I replied.

The train pulled out of the station.

Run outside to find mink flowers,
unicorns and molecules
all the things you want to bring
to the party

They are all but particles
scattered across the living room floor
or maybe lines on a mirror
through a hopeless door

Entertained by the night
entranced with the stars
in their fight against the sky
ascertain caged lions
who cling to the memory
of flight and thoughts of Einstein
that define our feelings or some ****

There is reason for the gaze
but the beasts miss
used their rhyme but they're still able
to find their way back
I know because I'm always reminded
atoms are what make us matter

It could have been an indie flick,
The kind that makes those hipsters tick.
Her eyes, that look…
The way I shook.
Like something out of a cult loved book.
Smell of roses,
She walked right by.
I should have done more than catch her eye.