It's like riding a rollercoaster,
That feeling of nervous fear
from the unknown,
But it isn't like a rollercoaster,
because you know what
to expect.
I never do, unless I think I do,
In which case I entitle myself
a fool~ a foolish fool,
who suffers from destroyed
optimism after each spark
of hope.

A picture perfect serenity
of waves crashing at the shore.
The reflections of stars so bright
giving a new lease of light (life).
You see the wonder of the world lay out in front of you;
how I wish I could see the world through your eyes, even if just for tonight?

We are nothing but marks in the sand
waiting to be washed away with the tide.
The black abys of nothingness the sea offers up,
tempting fate between life and death.
Do I dare to risk being washed away in wishful thinking?
Or, do I let the cripplingly cold waves take me under?

A picture perfect serenity
of waves washing troubles away.
The reflections of a million dreams illuminating the night
providing quintessential peace never experienced before.
You see life as if it were a painting unique to us all;
everyone sees the beauty, even if not always understood.

We all leave our marks across the sand,
basking in its never ending beautiful optimism.
The unknowing views of opportunity amiss,
the most sacred, forgotten hearts finding salvation.
Do we dare to try taking risks into the unknown, no-matter the price?
Or, do we hold onto what we know, always playing it safe?

Tired.

All my life I am tired.

Tired of awaiting the call

tired to wait to be small

Next to another whose tall.

Tired of trying and waiting and doing all my life

in the thrall

of the wait

to challenge the looming debate

and crying my eyes

To sleep.

Too Late.

For time slows to a creep

and winds all my life.

I am tired

and waiting

all my life

to sleep.

The problem isn't you,
in fact, there's nothing
wrong with you.
Stop blaming yourself
for things that others did
or things you could not control.
Do not question your worth
by the way others treat you
or making comparisons.
Do not second guess yourself
just because others choose to leave
or because they choose to lie.
You are doing well,
do not doubt yourself.

If you want to see what becomes of optimists just look upon the faces of those people coming out of betting shops and casinos.

A pessimist will tell you that optimism is an addiction that will cost you as much as you are willing to wager and eventually the house will win.

You can only be as optimistic as you are lucky.

**** jenkins says to drink more water

I’ve been dehydrated
living at sea, pirated
but here's some tea, I made it
to some knee high waves
passing my feet, I wade
and start to deep dive away
into some me time, maybe
now I see why I felt
Like I was 3 lives away from
something sweet, like honey
from a beehive, I think
I tried to deny away that
It was me, my way of
painting free skies grey, as
if my green eyes glazed and
then left me blind to rays of
blue that define days and
nights, that we find stay in
every designed way the
sun and streetlights aim their
light at things like bays where
Otis sings tides away and
water brings life paving
ways for tree lines, shaving down
the screen time slavery where
pictures we like wave at
us from behind eight gigs
of our own devices, waiting
for an e-vite to say, “welcome
to the free life”, take us
back to T-9, making typos
due to key size, lately I
drop speed by lacing
life with Jeep drives, break from
running it’s the Suite Life, saved time
is a dream mined straight from
underneath shrines made to
teach us “decline today, to-
morrow’s reclined shade is
worth the bee line”, race against
the streamlined weight of
the “keep grinding” wages, get
your lease signed, waive your
rights to free fly, pay with
card get denied, straying
from the street signs may just
get you steep fines, say that
we can realize today that
we can reply, “hey, let’s
fall asleep by the lake and
watch the leaves fly away and
maybe drink wine that tastes a
little refined, play some
songs that beat right against
the heart and keep finding ways
to really greet life amazed
by every tweet by jays of blue
that leap by faith into
the color”

first makes me
imagine a poem
that talks about
an ink-stained sky
and brooding clouds
and chilling air,
all of which
can be taken as
ominous signs of
impending doom;  
but that can be bad
so instead lie still
and listen to the
comforting melody
the rainstorm plays on
my old tin roof