Write till your itchy fingers fall off
When the party's over, write some more
Write into the mist, write from the veil
Hand your heart to readers and write while they feel your pulse
Write like you're being chased by dogs
And when they ask "who's side are you on?"
Write like you mean it to their faces
When they're leading you to the noose
Ask for one final request: pen and pape
And write down a moody poem and draw a picture too
Write upside down, write on a rail
Then build yourself a glider with your writing and write while you fall
Write in a wooden house, write poems for louse
Write, write, write, write, write in spite (if you have to)
All in all, no further explanation required
Just write, alright?

I see it happening in all of the jumps and laughter of the little one,

He has been wronged by so many people and he can’t spell yet,

I can already see the anger and tears in his eyes beneath the smiles and warmth that lies alongside his innocence,

He’s finding outlets that society will judge and he’s already ignoring them when no one’s looking in pursuit to be himself to find heroes in this world who understand and won’t yell and judge,

He feels safe and home and in peace with the surroundings that bore him it is new,

So infatuated with subtleties that he unbeknownst to himself find solitude in joy,

The kid is outrageously confused, figuring things out that I hadn’t till the latter years and it is confusing,

It’s as if you know the future of the child already despite the choices and personality of the frail soul,

You know him in and out and the kid just wants to be a kid, have fun, and surrender to happiness and safety and home,

Well home is mobile, always on the move, home is fatherless with mother selling dope, home is little torturous yells that don’t ring with I Love Yous anymore, home is torn into pieces of I don’t cares, grow ups, and be a man,

Well if you should ever find yourself so unprotected, so delirious in thought that it pains in your gut and you can’t scream out with so much intensity as to bust a balloon with red, then say ok and move on. Say okay and move on,

Repeat the torture only in your head because you don’t have the right to live in abuse, you don’t have the right to be afraid, you don’t have the right to be misunderstood, you don’t have the right to cry yourself to sleep, but it’s okay not to be okay.

To whom it may concern.
Through memory and thought
I have seen it all.
About those already gone
And those yet to come
I am concerned.

I have seen a tree in autumn high
Far and further still its shade did fall.
Blessed from above and chained to the ground
As day by day there was less from a day.
Thus I have seen how earth slowly bled
Teardrops of yellow, through orange, to red
Discarding the many, sparing but few.  

So I have seen a rose that dropped its petals
Upon the bed of someone's tomorrow.  
Stained from desire of promises clashing
Half empty the sheets come morning remained.
Thus I have seen bitter sweetness and sorrow
When moments and faces were borrowed at will
Piled for later, traded for thrill.

I have heard the songs brought up by joy
Carried forth by comfort and faith, elated with hope.
So I have heard the laments and prayers at night  
Nurtured tirelessly by fear and by sin, bred in despair.
Dread be my comfort and I shall fear no more!
Fear consume my faith and I am not a sinner!
Sin dry out my hope and I shall hail you forevermore!
Forevermore and ‘till the end of time
Take me at least to the edge of this very night
To the brink of the day and back nevermore!

Yet, I know of a seed that bit through the frost
When prospect of morning yielded to chance.
Born to commence though bound to the End
Bathing in blessing of fire ignited by rain.
Thus I know of a smile that sprang out of hope
Eyes that craved for the shivering light
And a heart that beat over cries in the night!

Through memory and thought
I have seen it all.
Counting the days as I pass them by
By the grace of the wind,
By the will of the sky.
From where all the roads begin
To where at last they meet again
My memories are aching
But my thoughts are asking: ˝Why˝?

I have to close this chapter in the book,
it doesnt matter how it will read or how it will look,
because even the worst memories get brighter,
as age gets dimmer like a dying lighter,
right meow it will be looked at as a year for hate,
a year to commiserate,
maybe a year to accept the growth in me,
or a time I was most free,
it was a year for love,
or maybe it was just all of the above,
but that's every year I suppose,
just like every poet rhymes,
and has pros,
every year makes me happy,
and every year makes me feel down in the dumps,
its a just a game,
"Of streaks and slumps"
so here's to the next year
of happiness and fear,
love and anger,
thrashing and quiet,
raises up glass to my friends I have and havnt met yet
Lets all make a bet,
to be have good days and bad,
so that next New Years,
there will be something to be a had

I love you like...

The moment that I realize I have two hours left and find out I didn't oversleep
The Anticipation of telling beautiful surprises that are so challenging to keep
The few seconds before we finally jump from a cliff that is just a little too steep
The tears that bleed from my eyes out of joy, and aren't accompanied by a weep
An uncontrollable smile after watching a puppy take it's very first spirited leap
The freedom I feel from escaping the herd removing ourselves from the sheep
The optimistic first steps of a child's feet standing up to life"s broom"s first sweep
The necessary silence rarely shared from a reflecting gaze piercing ever so deep

I think of you...when...

The pain finally doesn"t hurt
I wear my one favorite shirt
The Perfect word is finally blurt
Absolutely nothing left to exert
Finished work covered in dirt
The wind blows up your skirt
Organically we begin to flirt
Arrived Just in time for dessert


I need you like...

A runner needs his feet
A writer needs a pen
A song needs a beat
A rooster needs a hen
The cold needs the heat
The military needs men
A carnivore needs meat
A monk needs his zen

I miss you like...

A plant wilting from a drought
A dog laying by his owner"s grave
Silence misses a necessary shout
Hibernating bears without their cave
A champion boxer"s very last bout
An injured surfer watching a wave
An old man"s window looking out
Addiction misses his best friend crave

Good evening to all, I shall be your host
So won't you all raise your glass's please
A tribute like this, requires a proper toast
So take this one moment in time and freeze
For on this eve we shall honor all the ghosts
Who have epiphanied us all to our knees
So no matter who you may love the most
Let the collective works remind us to seize

The day, started out different, I'm not a morning person by any means
But this morning I awoke, with clear thoughts and vivid dream scenes

It was as if my body was merely a vessel
and my mind was possessed
But instead of my soul fighting to wrestle
It conceded, for I was blessed

A voice spoke to me for all of humanity
And warned that the words that I will channel
May have people questioning my sanity
Convicted by a psychoanalytic jury and panel

I was sound asleep when a voice awoke me from my bed
A whisper "Listen closely to me", the first ghost softly said
"There is absolutely no reason to sleep, after you are dead
So please share the words that I place in your head" he pled

Young man, rest is assured, allow me set the presage
After words are procured and you send my message
You will slumber so peacefully knowing these deeds
Shall contribute to billions of thought provoking seeds"

I said "let me sleep on it", for it was a very long day that I had endured
But I must admit, the concept of immortality absolutely had me lured
He said, "Just remember words are meaningless once you leave earth
Goodnight sir, and by the way, my name is William, for what it's worth

The air is as thick as the curls of your hair
The drink is as stale as the mid-winter air
The mistress and the man ascend up the stairs
The rest of them, so lifeless, so full of despair

Cluttered inside the corners of your mind
Trails of your self-medication are all you could find
Alcohol poisoning the natural opiates left behind
The rest of it, so scarce, so blurred, so blind

You tap your fingers to the tune of the song
You lift your drink up and back down where it belongs
Not another sip, the inevitable you mustn't prolong  
Drinking away your problems only works for so long

Another sad stare from the bartender that tends to wink
Another empty glass to clatter on the table when you finally drink
Six more years of crawling into debt with the inability to think
Drowsy eyes, bloodshot, still dry when you blink

Stagnant dreams rest under your pillow at night
While dizzy spells depress your enthusiasm as it ignites
The life you live is a life lived in spite
Regrets hanging on the curtain of your shower, revenge leaking from every reaction site

Three more weeks and it'll be over soon enough
Take the pills with a glass of whiskey and call your own bluff
You'll rest beside him and all of his stuff
Douse it in alcohol, light a match, you are tough