I've grown so tired
of hating you,
but I’ve hated you so long,
it's all I know.
After the foul odor of death fades,
fresh air will replace
that which we cannot change.
Staring out the window,
my chest tightens from dread.
The pollution we’ve spewed
may have scorched the soil
where new trees must grow.

–Ron Gavalik

Create art
every day
If you cannot
then make just one
piece of art
which is the work of life
Make it imperfect
and worthy of memory
every day

–Ron Gavalik

There are people who love
what you do.
Others will always hate
what you do.
The majority have no idea.
Those are the souls
I observe on sidewalks
and in restaurants.
They are confused, angry, lost.
They stumble beautifully
through the fire.

-Ron Gavalik

Laying on my back
in the alley,
drunk and sick,
I gazed at the blanket of stars.
The cosmos above revealed
itself as an endless sea
of lost hopes
and sacred prayers.
In that moment,
I was free.

-Ron Gavalik

The poets in the digital age
hunger for constant approval.
As cowards, they hide in fear
behind the mob's outrage.
In a constant search for validation
within shallow mud puddles,
every penned word betrays
the pursuit of truth in art.
Lost in a fog of redactions,
I just don't know
if these poets will ever find
truth again.

-Ron Gavalik

Sometimes the sadness
comes like a sucker punch
to the back of the head.
The assailant disappears
into the crowded street,
and we are stuck
nursing a painful wound,
never really knowing
its reason or cause.

-Ron Gavalik

There’s a psychopath
at every job, a guy ready
to talk your ear off about socks
or a woman who admits
she has a fetish for hairy *****.
I met them in restaurants,
on construction sites,
and in bland offices.
As time went on,
the psychos disappeared.
I mentioned this to a coworker.
He stared at me cold,
the way I once looked at a guy
who went on and on
about his ****** addiction.

-Ron Gavalik