Cicadas song buzzes loudly
Beneath the half moon.
Bait fish flicker quickly
While the stream flows slow.
Wind blows the trees more gently
In their creaking, wheezing whisper.

The owls watchful eyes gleam down.
Mice scurry beneath the fields cuttings.
Deer walk with their head up,
Tasting the air with their nose.

Night drones on,
The sun, asleep
It's lover, vigilant, and dutiful.

A train whistles it's lonesome tune
Passing through these Ohio fields
I listen from my porch
And wonder where its headed.

If I got on, where would it take me?
Would the conductor let me
Play my guitar
And write my silly little songs
While the car rocks me to sleep?

Maybe it'd take me where my friend Chris has gone.
He left town on a skateboard
When we were 17
And never came home.

I know he found happiness out there.
I miss his smile.
I miss smoking **** in the woods
Trying to duck the man.

The train blows again
And I am brought back to where I am
28, a father, a husband
Musing on the back porch
And he's 2000 miles away.

I hope you're alright, my friend,

Days go on and on
Punching the clock, cleaning the counters,
Ticking life away

I return home at night.
My wife works days, I work late.
I want to see my babies,
but they are asleep
Upstairs.

I hope they dream peacefully.

I miss them.

forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
I have stolen, lied and cheated.
I've lashed out at those that did not deserve it
and praised those who put themselves on a pedestal.
Yet, my most awful transgression
was self inflicted suffering.
I let others steal from me.
Lie to me. Cheat on me.
Let them break every bone in my body
And stomp me into the ground.
But I didn't mind..
I cared for them.
Be they friends, lovers, or enemies.
I only wanted them to love me.
To be proud of me.
So I let them destroy... everything.
I am disgusted at myself.

She walked with grace.
She talked with a voice as sweet as honey milk.
When she cried I felt every tear hit the ground.
And when she laughed, I knew I was where I needed to be.
Then she changed.
She began speaking softly where I could not truly hear her.
She turned away from me at night and left me cold.
Her white lies turned to pure fallacies
And her eyes became deceptive.
Then she left.
She said she had eyes for another.
And had, for a while.
She claimed it wasn't fair to me
and I agreed with her.
I think about her every day.
The way her touch sent chills through me.
The way her eyes poured poetry into my empty hands.
And spilled between my fingers.
My room still smells of vanilla.
My guitar still sings your praises.
And never stops crying the blues.
I hope to forget you. Entirely.

I've written copious amounts of poetry in my lifetime.
Stacks on stacks of notebooks and paper pads filled to the point of bursting.
But none of these thousands of words
Can arrange themselves in the correct order
To express how lovely I think you are.

I find company amidst the strange.
Solace in anything idiosyncratic.
Normalcy leads to boredom,
And a boring life leads to sooner death.