Marveled over threads
Liked and posted
And even shared

Always controlling
The musty button that says
'Another tab, please!'

But then....
Your eyes wandered
Back to the task assigned

'Tic, tac' says the clock
Oh, now, you're in shock!
No more hitting the sack

Drifting
somewhere between sleeping
and waking life

Dipping
in and out of the fuzzy lake
of my subconcious mind

Straining
to keep myself on the surface -
losing grip, (here i go again)

Waves a blue and white
painted like the sky in that Van Gogh
Starry Night.

Paintied in thick blue tears
and yellow splocthes of infinity.

Snoring
snaps me back
to barely awake.

Tripping
up the stairs
I make my way to my bed,
Wrap my arms about my Love
and let myself fall into
Van Gogh's heavy tears

I would rather sit in the closet
behind an armor of blouses
scribbling on a page that will never
know what my eyes look like
when they cry.

I would rather fantasize about
slamming my head onto the desk
before me
while everyone watches


I would rather ***** my feelings
on an internet stranger
who did not ask to be my receptacle

Kelly Brook
Mistook
A book
For a hook.

Went fishing with
Alanis Morissette
And Anneka Rice.

Caught a complete set
Of Encyclopaedia Britannicas.
Popped it in the keep-net
And mused,

This really is a landmark
Of informational literature
But is rather wet
So not easily used.

I think I'll stick
To the Internet.

Why do I create poetry?
Why am I sitting in this bed/couch, typing poetry into this website?
What is the  purpose of this?
Am I lonely?
Am I expecting someone to praise me for my poetic abilities?
Am i searching for acceptance, acceptance in a community to people who don't know me?
Why in the outside world do I hide my poetics talents from people,
But become bold enough to post my poems for everyone to see?
Am I really that insecure?
Why do I keep checking on my email seeing how many people are commenting on my poetry?
About how many people are following me ?
About how many like my poems?
Why do I keep on going to different websites posting my poetry where it can get stolen?
Why?

Well, because I love poetry
And that's that.

The greatest thing about the Internet
Is that we’re all writing our own obituaries
So selfie posters, pose on
Blog enthusiasts, report and indulge
Instafoodie, snap before consumption
Because these are the things that will mark our lives
After we decay
Media has longevity
Circuits survive