You were my perfect poem
Brief but of many lessons
Our life was the perfect paradox
For love I thought we could rhyme

You hated all I ever loved,I loved all you hated
You said dirt was clean and the sun was cold
You desired tears for years
And resisted all advances of happiness

All you hated I had to forsake
For our love was at stake
But like a toddler you had fun with my feelings
Leaving our blindest love in darkness reeling

Yet my greatest victory was losing you
My severest pain was my sweetest gain
You schooled me through experience
My all-time worst teacher

You were my perfect poem
Eternity would be short to describe the undescribable
For when my hand is strong to hold the pen
Then my heart is weak to pen the words

bubblegum popping
you reminded me of sin
with scent sickly sweet

writing poetry, for me, has become like a eating disorder.
although instead of consuming,
i'm the one producing.

each day i strive for this unattainable image,
this glorified idea of what i might become,
and the parasite in my brain grows.

i force my finger down my throat,
causing words to come bubbling up.
and each time they are more vile than the last,
a sour odor wafting from them.

my mouth burns from the acid but it tastes like victory.
because at least i created something.
and i leave my poetry there to rot,
refusing to admit i have a problem.

too blind to understand that each time i do this i'm slowly killing myself.
i'm hungry for something that can sustain me,
but i reject every antidote.

I laugh at the sound
    of the wind
As it echoes through my mind
Telling me stories of memories
     I had previously left behind
  with caricatures of faces
I can no longer remember in reality
      And songs from past places
That bring me down
         with the emotional gravity
And I was my thoughts spin around
                 and around
    I get dizzy from the intensity
                and my sanity
        Can no longer be found
                 Yet
I can still hear the wind
      And I laugh at the sound

On the verge of sleep and waking
An understanding came to me of
The novelty of a great evil   that I
Could write-I could write!  The joy
Shear Joy of it.  Nothing else was
There that I cared about-treasures
That I had lost, where I was in time
In space all these faded out.  Joy-
Joy Joy of all joys better than wealth
Better than Eros -pure health itself.
I knew it as I said it again and again
I can write   She will help me the
One I loved , my muse; and I will
win her.  Then nothing else will
Matter   Our love will be forever.

Is it that some are too slow at
Learning wisdom or is it that
Others are too slow at learning
Patience?  Both fail at being
Godly-For God is both wise
And patient; and war is that
Grand Illusion that trumps
The hopes  of glory that is
Not to be as an apple tree
That bears no fruit nor has
It roots and is never real but
To make the gifts of God to
Be  as if all in vain and not
Known. Yet it never was so
Where love is we know It
Is  and know there is not
Another better-for He who
Is one and both lives forever
His children believing know
Two- that He is truth and life
One and both. Not death but
Victory.  We know of no end
To His Wonder and His Peace.

Let us not as holy men have said
Let  our dreams of another place
Be too small.  Let the future now
Be all.  How many bridges have I
Crossed?  How much water has
Passed under?  I speak of losses
Of the death of dear ones, friends
Lovers, Mother , Father, wife and
Children ; the joys of youth, of
Places that we have lived and left.
They were never all at once but are
All buried in  their separate crypts
Buried with our tears and our youth
So the years go by and still it is another
Now more diminished by the distance
By time traveled that has yet to bring
Us home  Can we not; must we
Not in great hope imagine Now
Again and take the quantum leap
Into that experience totally new
Imagine  the eternal commingling of
All our time in an unending eternity
An All alive and still unexpiring now
In that Kingdom where God has
Stored all our treasures and promised
They would there for us when we
Come home.  This future why not
Now.  Should our hearts not yearn
For this time to come not after death
But in this life - death now overcome
Are we not all time travelers and do
We not see we are at our door.  I see
My beloved and she comes out to
Greet me.  Oh blessed day and  hour.