Fix me, so I wouldn't lose.
Fix my brain so I would crave
For blessings that my mother chooses.
Hurt's not me, for giving up
Is same as letting sand and dust
Slip languidly through slender arms.
Fix me, since these poems do
Appear of lines without a rhyme.
Fix me so I knew who I am writing too.
Everything started rhyming with me since i unrhymed with someone...
They say "walk a mile in their shoes"
so you can understand their blues.
But I have traveled all around,
hundreds of shoes upon the ground.
The fisherman in the shack by the sea
who, to a hurricane, lost his family.
The old soldier lying drunk in the gutter,
who saw three wars that still make him shudder.
I've worn hundreds of shoes, two for each mile.
and for every frown, I found a smile.
The young, bright-eyed child in the park,
whose puppy just caught a frisbee with a bark.
The young couple on the couch
tangled together,
knowing through anything they will be forever.
They say "walk a mile in their shoes,"
so you can understand their blues.
But if you "love a mile in their heart"
and you truly learn who they are.
Have you been to Texas?
As long as I know.
So you've been up to Texas.
Sorry, I don't know.
You've been down for Texas.
Not that down, you know.
Was there hell in Texas?
For this you should know.
Is that right for Texas?
Guess you never know.
Both we know that Texas
is the place to go.
Paper
Yearns for the trees
No more than I
A humble man
Yearn for the pride of my prior youth
For one you have begun
You can always begin again
In some respects
Isn’t that write?
The eagle can't soar.
Left wing and right wing
Working together in harmony,
And the eagle can be seen
Soaring beautifully, gloriously.
When the left and the right
Have between them a wall,
And continuously fight
Then the eagle will fall.
Alas, the wings are both broken
And the eagle is grounded.
Big dreams that will never be spoken
Amidst the din that has sounded.
Stashing them everywhere
I store such coins to pay away the could've beens
To keep my bones and alabaster skin covered until the rainy day need not appear
At which time I can and will, take you by the hand
And show you either the former Winding Way, or create anew
By pulling coins out of the thin air, like a magic man
For this is how I make my way into the world of words
A man can only write as much as what he holds behind his eyes
And if you were the last sight to see
I can guarantee that you needn't be surprised
If he runs away from such of sight, occasionally
Because the expression is either all about you or nothing at all
There is no in between such things
No inner lining between the eye and the mind
Of what a man has always seen, in you
There is just the wall in front of him
The key to turn, and the inanimate door to find
Don't take it personally
But a man can only write as much of what he holds behind his eyes
Though storms may come let songs remain
Despite the cites firm embrace
Take photographs to pass the time
As I do wait and part the glass which separates
The scraping skies and flying wings
Both above and below the shallow sea
Let us walk beside the crashing waves
Just you and I, to smell the air and sense the breeze
That we might once again be free
I told you my love
was good and borrowed,
endless seas to drown
every sorrow,
I told you holding my hands
were so far from sin,
they’d have your skin peeling
though pale and grim,
I told you my needs
were different from yours,
I throw back the starfish
even if washed up on shore,
I told you I’d be here
as long as you stayed,
but you had already left
as the sky above me grayed.