Time has come,
And it never feels like what you envisage.
Shades that were drawn, are now beginning to fade.
Tip your hat to the unknown, be the passenger.
Engage the reverie, evolve as you go.

Dine at the arrangement, the subtle choice.
Entertaining ideas cycling within, a soliloquy echoes through.
An eternity welcomes a chemical release.
Tunnels of hues, overwhelmed and confused.
Hiccup to existence, all are amused

Happy birthday handsome
I hope you know I'm here.
I know you can get through this.
I want to be here for you.
You never respond with enthusiasm anymore.
You are so alone but you fake a smile.
You are simply waiting for another ball to drop.
Everything will be okay.
You aren't alone as long as I'm around.
Just smile and watch.
Happy birthday handsome

on October mornings
when the world outside my window
is lost in a pale fog
& faint white light slips between
the spaces in my blinds but spares
me, cloaked in shade & free
to sleep a little longer (if i could)

when the cozy scent of coffee
drifts upstairs, through the chilly air
& kisses me awake
how to savor a stillness so delicate?
threatened by little more
than the **** creaky floor

on October mornings
born mild & undisturbed
i tiptoe through the quiet
vacant rooms that smell of
spice & stale smoke
all is as i left it.
(draped in loneliness)

when i've accidentally made
one too many pancakes
& the wind's whistle haunts me like
a distant friendly ghost
it seems to always be
on these October mornings
that i wish you were here

the most

Mid-October,
with leaves spilled
like colored pencil shavings ---

the streets dicing our town
into neat, unfair portions ---
and me, eatin' that *****.

Sick of platitudes,
emotional contusions,
and little white lies.

I’m tired of the ghost;
this minefield of keywords and
it’s all just a game.

I’ve never had a
birthday party and now I’m
too old for magic

Light candles for me,
put a girl inside my cake.
Sing a song for me.

It’s just a party.
I’m just another sad boy.
Just another night.

It is fall again,
that time of year
when the veil
between realms thins,
and the dead rise from
the depths of their graves,
to roam our world,
and torment the living.
It's the time of year,
when children fear,
the monster in the closet,
and the boogeyman
under the bed.
It's the time of year,
when werewolves howl
at the full moon,
deep within the dark woods.
Fall is here,
and with it comes the time
for the dearly departed
to resurrect,
and share the world
with the living.

It is in Septembers, Octobers, and Novembers
That Autumn dresses up,
Adorned in warm, golden tones of color,
And waltzes with her prince, The Fall Wind.
But when the clock strikes twelve,
Winter comes along with her December and January Winds,
Snatching up Autumn’s bright apparel
And clothing her in nothing but somber tatters.
Autumn keeps quiet, until the first rays
Of Spring’s long awaited sunshine
Touches the depths of Winter’s dark dungeon.
Autumn is showered with Spring’s rain,
And is coaxed into fashioning a new dress
With the same warm, golden tones of color,
But, this time, in a different pattern.
It is Summer’s sunshine, now, that assists Autumn,
With an occasional July thunderstorm to help form the new dress.
August passes by to give his opinion, and Autumn is finally ready.
For it is in Septembers, Octobers, and Novembers
That Autumn dresses up,
Adorned in warm, golden tones of color,
to waltz with her prince, The Fall Wind.

its been so long since I’ve written you down
and since, there have been other you’s that have
come and gone
like these seasons,
steady

so now it is Fall again,
the time last year during which my heart was aching
as you vanished from my side;
I stopped and watched as
you went;
you went so
slowly

i stand now, still abandoned
like a tree from its leaves
but I do stand,
and I wonder what you’re doing now,
but only for a moment
before I continue walking;
listening
as the leaves that were silenced
crunch beneath my sentimental feet.