I'd pen a paragraph
or two
scribble out a
scroll
for
you
the ink pours out this pen
to produce a pretty prose
that's true
hoping
to show my view
my hopes
my dreams
the best for you
don't waste life
heed
this
be true
to you
make mistakes
keep youth's virtue
get a tattoo
in fact
get two
try that awful hairdo
keep your family
close
remember their value
be spontaneous
an impromptu trip
to a beach
or igloo
hug your mother
when
she's blue
learn Kung fu or write haikus
just continue
down your own
avenue



             I hope to be there to see
             how you grew and take
                 some credit for the
                              you
                              that
                                is
                              you

I'm still stuck in day-drunk unemployment.
A millennial with eyes to a screen,
adopting a science
in a bedroom whisper for Gaza.

Now a writer of pretty words and clumsy verse,
there's no place for happiness
in forcing poetry. There are ribbons and bows
around the fenced-off trees,

there are notebooks of unfinished thought.
I'm searching the skies for a scrap of movement,
for some coded message
to **** the engine of war.

There's a wedding in the morning,
and there is somebody who still believes in love.
Rainbow confetti will kick in the sky,
a dandelion is born in the skull of old Palestine.

I'm still stuck in this new-age desperation,
a constant plea for peaceful completion.
I'm changing address
for a clean way of living,

in your sweet floral dress,
let this be the beginning.

Encased in talent like a uniform,
The rank of every poet is well known;
They can amaze us like a thunderstorm,
Or die so young, or live for years alone.
They can dash forward like hussars: but he
Must struggle out of his boyish gift and learn
How to be plain and awkward, how to be
One after whom none think it worth to turn.

For, to achieve his lightest wish, he must
Become the whole of boredom, subject to
****** complaints like love, among the Just

Be just, among the Filthy filthy too,
And in his own weak person, if he can,
Must suffer dully all the wrongs of Man.

When life gives you lemons,
Breathe
Because there is only so much you can get out of lemonade.
Take your time measuring
The sugar
To balance out
The sour taste that
Lingers
Until after.
And if you make a mistake,
If it seams the sour still screams,
Remember that it
Exists
For you to
Anticipate
Every next sweet sip.
There will be unwanted pulp.
Don't drain it out.
And there will be spills,
So many spills
Until all sweet
And all sour have run out.
But wait.
Because life always has more lemons
To throw right your way.

He looked at me
The way you look at
Stacked books
On a wooden shelf,
Carefully stroking my spine
After he's done it to
Three other stories
he'd gotten tired of.

Mr. Bookworm,
I am not a fictional option.
Yes, my cover is
Stained
And my last reader
Folded and tampered
With all my pages,
I only wish you'd
Treat this piece of literature
With respect.
You see, Mr. Bookworm,
I'm not a trilogy,
At least I'm not sure yet.
My Author isn't quite done with me. And I find it quite rude
That you stare at my papery insides,
Page after page,
Only to leave me
Back in the shelf,
Collecting dust.
Be patient with me, wandering reader.
Wait for my story
To reach it's ******.
Inhale my aging pages
Until you reach my resolution.
My apologies
For the times I've been
Rewritten.
But wait with me
Till you've reached my story's ending.
Because I swear upon my
Mismatched table of contents,
It will be a story worth telling.

tucked into your white sea of bed sheets staring at the movement behind your eyelids trying to avoid your products of reproduction and the sinister spinning earth
you had the nerve to write "see you in your dreams by the sea" in a book in black ink but you never kept that promise
sometimes i trace my finger tips over your handwriting
silly, right?
i remember you took my face between the palms of your hands, the cracks in them like little valley's
your blue eyes a blood shot glittering hypnotizing ocean gem of comfort and peace and acceptance
and the words "promise you'll never die" slipped off of my tongue like hot tea
and i was too young to know that we all die someday, that death comes out of the blue like a ***** whale breaking apart the ocean waves like that moses guy in the bible just to breathe and kiss the salty air
and you grabbed my face and kissed my forehead and you told me you promise
and i hope that was on your mind when you touched those sheets
and I hope my innocent face flashed through your mind when you tied it around the pipe
the flashbacks of you holding me for the first time
and I hope the last thought on your mind was me when it broke your neck and the angels came and took you
and i hope you know that the emptiness in me will never be filled
and I hope you know that even when you thought nobody cared, nobody listened, nobody loved you
i cared and I loved you with every atom in my being and I'm sorry I wasn't old enough to fully understand  
and i'm still waiting to see you in my dreams by the sea