They say
Tiptoe through the tulips
But where did they say
Smash through
The violets
That are blue
Like my heart
Or the roses
That are red
Like the blood
Pouring out.
When did they say
Make sure to crush
The sunflowers
Once golden
Like my future
But tiptoe
Through the tulips
Heavens forbid
They come to harm.

They used to say
"you make a better wall
than a window"
meaning don't stand
in someone's way
because they can't see through you.
Yet now I dare not stand
in any one's way,
and more than one
seem to look
right through me
as if I weren't there at all.

I flee from the masses
And fly to the rooftops
Up the worn staircase
To the confines of my mind

Within the loneliness
The ever-changing thoughts
The shatters of memories
I am trapped.

I constantly tiptoe at the brink of insanity,
Continuously treading so close to its realm.
Sometimes I wonder if it's worth the trouble
Or if maybe, just maybe
It would be wiser
Smarter
Bolder
To welcome the insanity
And tumble in
Head first.

Idle hands:
Idol hands.
One the same,
Not sure again.
Sit on the fence,
Yet who owns the yard?
The power of that prince
You disregard.
You forget the One
Who called you here;
Now to decide,
The choice is near,
For He said "hate your
Parents, sister, brother"
So if you don't serve one,
You serve the other.
                                     tsk

I gave up pessimism,
abandoned optimism,
and embraced realism;
I thought I would know reality
but now all I know is fear.

No strings attatched
They loudly proclaim
As I feel a subtle tug.
This way, that way,
Upwards, down:
A guiding force
So small, so menacing.

No strings attached
They tenderly whisper
So close to my ear.
Do this, play that,
Lie here, forget:
My tiny concious
Easily crushed, easily displaced.

No strings attached
They persistently hiss
As I back away.
But why, what if,
How come, explain:
Life is a stage
So who is the puppeteer?

Skipping stones
And broken bones
And memories long gone
A summer through
Like me and you
As the leaves change on
I remember now
And it's my vow
To forget of all we've done
But I can't say
Within this day
To regret all or none.

He had every item
on the checklist
but yet there was
no spark.
When I met you,
you left every box blank,
but burned that notepad
to simple ashes.

You were the needle
Stitching me together
I was the hay
So brittle, so fragile
And when you left
You left that needle
Hidden within me
A part I could not find
Nor could I remove
And just so I could
Remove from me
That small part of you
I burned that hay stack
To the ground.

one. two. three.
but i've forgotten
forgotten how to count
how to feel
how to live
how to know
forgotten how to breathe
how to see
how to sing
how to show
how to show the difference
between laughter
and the heartache
what is real
four. five. six.
or have i?
have i forgotten
perhaps we become
what we say we will
or more often than not
seven. eight. nine.
we become what we promise
we will never be.
ten.

Wash away the makeup
The paint of another day
Wipe off the fake smile
That hid all of the pain
Farewell to the laughter
That stopped what you had to say
And greet the tears of nighttime
Which company held at bay.

You gave dusk
A whole new meaning.
The coming of darkness
Has become my greatest
Most terrifying fear
The one that knocks
On the door
At the end of every day
And that creeps past the threshold
Welcome or not.
And it all become a game
Of hide and go seek
As I run from the pain
Cower from the emotion
Flee from the memories.

                                              tsk

tick tock
rhymes with clock
and sunrise
with goodbyes
know
to go
and flow
and so
By and fly
and cry
but while heart
pairs with start
nothing, not one thing
rhymes with orange.
Poor orange.

Press on the brakes
Red lights
Slow going.
Discouraging.
Just across the way
White lights shine
So promising.
Full of hope.
And happiness.
A color of encouragement
and a better day.
Yet sitting, stuck,
amid a sea of red.
Let me remind you
of the most crucial
detail you forget:
Behind every white light
glows a red.
And preceding every red,
just out of sight,
is a pair of white lights,
shining brighter than day.

I wasted every single moment
Of a life I should've lived
Hoping to see a place
Better than the arms you held
Reaching towards my figure
As I looked to the hills
For they say the grass is greener
On the other side
Yet I must admit for me
The problem always stayed
I was worried about the grass
I had not discovered yet.

It does not matter
Whether the emotion
Is laughter or tears
Love or terror:
It will always
Bubble forth
Gushing out
From these hearts
Fragile and true
All because
We are human.

A crinkle of newspaper
The simple sideways glance
And a half hidden grin.
A shyness that stops
And a hope that intrudes
The next stop is mine
But you're here to stay
What a question I'll ask
What if everything
All I wanted
Was simply waiting
One seat over.

The problem, I realize,
Is that the way
I protect myself
From the innermost pain
Is the same way
I protect myself
From the innermost pleasure.

Another choice
Another line
Another symbol
Another rhyme
Simple diction
An extra word
Punctuation
Pentameter
A mournful meaning
A broken heart
Another poem
It's my art.

They say the sea
is a place for freedom,
for the strong willed
and the liberal spirits.
They say the country
is a place for humility,
for the hard workers
and the level headed.
They say the forest
is a place for mystery,
for the subtle explorers
and the quietly brave.
But the sting of the salt,
the pull of the grass,
the shade of the trees,
they haunt me so:
for there is only one place
I could ever belong,
and those arms, that heart,
have long since departed.
                                                   tsk

I laugh
Not because I'm in love
Nor because of insight
Or wit
Or humor
I laugh
And I laugh because
You think I know
What love is

A fragile little rose
(It's always a rose)
Petals clinging on for life
(Are they ever healthy?)
Soon to fall to the ground
(Probably smoothly)
And be trampled underfoot
(I dare say it's a symbol).

Oh are you better
You think you stand so tall
A head so big and growing
And yet a heart so small.
The shaking of your fingers
And pulling of those strings
The sneering at your equals
And lying of said things.
You thought yourself higher
The entire way done through
Yet now you have gone on
And you're 6 feet under too.
                          tsk

The sky is dark
An impenetrable black
Ominous and true
And I am losing track
There is no real telling
I cannot comprehend
Oh where it does begin
Or when it may end
But as I look to nothingness
And see no touch of lighter
When it seems so dim
Do not the stars grow brighter?
                                       tsk

In truth
I'm happy
But I used to be
Quite broken
Hence the poems
And the heartache
And the sadness
And the hurt
Of course
Now I realize
If I press enter
At the right time
It can be considered
Art.

the angels sang his praises
as they beckoned him back home.
their master had been absent
for some three days or so.
they knew not of his suffering
or of the tale untold
but when he sat up on his throne
his crown was now of gold.

If I find myself hating what I've done
If I find myself repulsed by who I am
If I find myself losing whom I know
If I find myself loathing things I think
If I find myself forgetting what I love
If I find myself looking for what I have
If I find myself unsure of where to turn
If I find myself not knowing how to feel
If I find myself wondering what to do
If I find myself standing at the choice
If I find myself, then I will know,
I am truly lost.

He said he couldn't find her
That one he always dreamed of;
I guess she dances within his mind
But never passes his line of vision.
He searches the few steps ahead
As if she will appear with ease.
I suppose when he is so intent
On that girl he wants right here
And right now, before him in whole,
He forgets that I stand in earnest
A little farther off and to the left.

You were a handful of cherries,
A summertime kiss,
A savored mouthful
Some bitter, some sweet.
The colors shift from deep to bright
Unpredictable. Temporary. Ever-changing.
A stem to be tied
A tantalizing tongue-twister
A point proven and forgotten.
Fun for a moment,
And then a moment passed.
And yet every cherry has a pit
And, sooner or later,
each handful ends.

No wedding bells chimed louder
Nor laughter or evening caller
Not even the gold that sits around my finger.
Rings better than my name
With yours to finish it off.

I never much wished
On a fallen eyelash
Or a drowning penny,
Never truly laid hope
On a dropping star
Or a moment on a clock.
I suppose I did place
My want on one whimsical,
Liberal, fanciful thing.
I placed my longing on you,
And maybe the chance
That your wish would be me.

My body hollow
The house haunted
You locked the door
And took the key.
I do not know
Why those ghosts
Do shriek
Or why the echo carries
To the depths of my soul.
Sometimes I think
That I'm heading now
To a safer place
But my feet will carry me
On the path they know.
The worn old road will greet me
And the trees beckon me home.

When it's three am
and the cold water splashes
against your face, wiping
away the sweat of another
nightmare,

When it's just about noon
and the old fork clatters
from your hand, moving
beyond the loneliness of another
meal,

When it's half past six
and the exasperated sigh escapes
from your lips, easing
aside the tension of another
day,

that is when I hope you recall,
remember, that once--
much more than once--
I was your gratifying well,
your overflowing banquet,
your everlasting breath.

I live in the desert
Where the snow doesn't fall,  
Losing myself in the wanderings:
Endless, restless, hopless.
For there is no return
To the home I know not.
The wind heaves,
The dirt stirs,
And I remain.
There is no escape,
There is no alternative,
For I live in the desert
Where the snow doesn't fall.

                                  tsk

Little girl
Big dreams
Bigger shoes
Small esteem
Shoes to fill
Space to grow
Fears to face
Love to show
Place to be
Things to learn
Hope to find
More to earn
Little girl
Big dreams
There’s more to find
Than what it seems.

One love so pure,
None could defer,
Not even Satan's try.
Two arms stretched wide,
They broke our pride,
And set us loose to fly.
Three in One,
Father, Spirit, Son,
Always whole and free.
Three nails held there,
In His despair,
For you and for me.
Forgiven true,
What He went through
To rescue every soul.
Five pints of blood,
An infinite love,
They saved the world in whole.

I think the first time
I held your hand
Was the first time
I realized that I
Could never let go.

shall i make you immortal
turn you into a poem
a mournful sonnet
a worshiping ode
should i press your figure
between the pages
or to form you as a masterpiece
this beautiful creek of thought
to make you a poem
is to remember you
and to remember you
is the uttermost fear.

They sit it a box
Under the bed,
Waiting to be opened,
Waiting to be fed.
And to their dismay,
Well, I hope they understand
I can never see them
Or hold them in my hand.
Oh, I left them there on purpose
With a hope but to disguise
The real pull within me
The truth to realize.
I wish I could explain
Just tell them oh but once
I shoved them there in earnest
And it must stay as such.
They cannot hope to comprehend,
Those broken memories,
That everything they now hold
Was once you and me.
                                           tsk

I could write you away
Into a million poems
Escape from your being
As you are sprawled out
On a thousand crumpled sheets
Thrown in many dust bins
Or caught under the bed
Maybe lying on the desk
Or trapped inside my mind.

Her lips kissed the air
With the sweet words she whispered
But the broken mummer that caressed the silence
Was her heart and soul.

The world sat on her shoulders
And shifted beneath her worn sneakers
Because what is a vibrant spirit to this place
If it is not masked by a pretty face.

You're in the tap of my foot
As I wait for the bus
In every song we used to sing.
Though it would be good
To forget about us
I remember every little thing.

I’ve spent my time dancing with the waves,
Back and forth, a fun little game.
A splendid step, a tentative twirl,
this feeling becomes no tidal wave.

I’ve spent my time yelling at the breeze,
Empty words unreturned, a relaxing exchange.
No biting reply, just the biting cold,
this courtship is no whirlwind.

I’ve spent my time trembling with the earth,
Captivating and swaying, powerful and strong.
Fearless it quakes, but not in anger
this occasion brings no after shock.

I’ve spent my time with you,
A step, a fight, a world-shaking moment.
Much less safe, much more real
naturally a disaster.

A burning bush
A cloud in the sky
A donkey's bray
A man hung to die
A walking *******
A tablet of stone
A swarm of locust
Three men stand alone
Word of a *******
The most hated Jew
Humble, poor fisherman
And a washed ***** too
Is there a difference
Between us and them all
So what will it take
For you to answer the call?
                            tsk

The problem with us people
With all of our emotions
Overflowing ourselves
And spilling into each other
Is that while we are stumbling
Through our own blind confusion
We fail to remember
That there will always be things
We say but could never mean
Outweighing those
Many, many things
We could never say enough.

I'm fine,
I can promise you.
A million times,
I can promise you.
I will not forget it,
I can promise you.
Everything will be okay,
That is what
You promised me.
I guess I'm all right,
I mean,
I've only got a little left.

When I find myself with you
I find myself in not only this moment
But in all the moments to come
to have and to hold
from this day forward.

It’s the Saturday mornings
with their lazy light
and the birds crisp songs
and all the trials and battles
stand still as we remember,
for better or for worse

And the Tuesday nights
as the keys hit the table
after a long day is over
when work was rough
and the week has just begun,
for richer or for poorer

It’s in the Sunday afternoons
as the sun traces its way across the sky
and we rejoice in what we have
whether it be hard or heartening
or the good and the better,
in sickness and in health

Its then that I think of you
In a thousand little moments yet to come
And its then I must remember
to not be so excited for forever
that I forget it is happening right now,
‘til death do us part.