I won't confirm or deny that I'm in a league of my own. Trapping these thoughts and neatly arranging them on the paper....or screen.  Regardless you know what I mean.

I won't confirm or deny that this is something I love to do.....it's better than keeping track of all those kids that live in a shoe.  The mother she used to be fine.....until her husband introduced her that bottle of wine.

I won't confirm or deny that she came down to my place.  She was mumbling some jibberish and I kindly asked her to step out of my face.  Her eyes were bloodshot red....she began mumbling about wanting someone dead.

I asked her nervously "Who?" She momentarily stepped out of her stupor and said "you know who!"  Now I had no clue ....just like you......I'm looking at her strangely......not knowing what to do.

She begins to cry and plops on the chair.....she utters these words and heartbreak fills the air.  Jack be nimble ...Jack be quick....Jack left me with all these kids.....He makes me sick.

I have struggled for years to raise these babies...and did all I could do.  Do you really think a mother wants their children to grow up in a shoe? I talked to my girl Ms. Muffet ....and spider is still trying to scare her away.....she said she saw Jack trying to talk to Jill.

He doesn't want to be a father.....he wants to go up the hill.  Plus, her brother Jack broke his crown....cause he was creeping with little Bo Peep.  She lost her sheep the other day.  Jack came by and wanted to play.

She lost her focus and lost her sheep....because after Jack left she fell fast asleep.  I won't confirm or deny anything I wrote here.....Hey Jack B. Nimble you better sleep with one eye open.....your wife is near.

Just a little mental exercise......

I lay here in my bed watching tv.  My mind is wandering aimlessly.

What am I going to wear for work? Man....I'm going to have to wake up extra early to iron.  My dog comes and sits next to my bed.....takes his head and moves my hand .....so it rests on his head.  He wants some attention from me.....a little love and I don't have to pay a fee.

I have work I need to finish...but I hate doing it at home.  I guess I'll stay late at work tomorrow......don't want the upcoming week to start with sorrow.  Hopefully ....I will be ahead and not behind .....I'm not a follower or standing in line.

My friend called and said her trip was fine.  I sent her a text because she was on my mind.  She called me a few hours later to say her day was fine.  She sounded very happy .....but her only bad news.....she attended an affair and brought the wrong shoes.

The people didn't care because of the light she provided.....her presence had them excited and delighted.  That's what she expressed to me...so I decided to write it.  God allowed her to make it just in time.....and her experience made it into my rhyme.

Life happenings made into a creative piece.....a tailor... carefully measuring his work.  This is custom made.....so that means it's one of a kind.  I should be sleep.....but I have too much on my mind.

Maybe I can text the sandman and have him send me a dose of sleeping sand.....it's hard to hold and seeps out of your hand.

You are getting sleepy.......very sleepy....vee...slee...py.

Zzz...zzz....Zzz....zzz

Whose job is it to make sure our kids are educated properly.
The parents are putting all the blame solely on me.

I was always told that a parent is a child's first teacher.
Although, you want to place the blame on the public school system and teachers.

Why doesn't he know how to read and tie his shoe?
But....he can unlock different levels that were unknown to you.
Nintendo's Wii, PS3 and Xbox 360 are more important to you and your children....not a lesson sent home from me.

He can count to 25.....although he doesn't recognize the numbers when he sees them.  
Parents continue to say that I don't teach enough and I don't know what I'm doing.

My response is this.....some of you ruin the children.  You want to be their friend and dress them in name brand clothes and sneaks.
Meanwhile....he doesn't recognize the seven days that create the week.

I asked him to read and he became upset and pushed his book on the floor.
He used inappropriate language and said "I don't want to be in this class anymore!

He's in seventh grade and reads on a first grade level.
So....my question is this.....is it my fault or the teachers who came before?
That he's not on grade level when he enters my door.

Homework rarely comes back when I send it home.....although he has a new iPod and an iPhone.
The interNet and social media.....has a strong hold on our youth.

The sad thing about this is......people won't admit that this has a hint of truth.
It still takes a village to raise a child....but things are not the way they used to be.....and you can't tell people about the children that live under the same roof.

We need to go back to the core principals of teaching our children. Teaching begins at home. That's where I first learned....to read and to write.

A little discipline never hurt anyone....it encourages them to learn and  to do things right.

My question to you and it's open for discussion ......
Whose job is it ?

Music reminds me of you.
The first time I saw your smile and inhaled your perfume as you walked by.
Who would have thought you would become my fantasy.  I now understand why doves cry.

If I had of known the girl next door was you......I would have sent flowers and balloons to your place.
Just to allow a smile to rent some time on your beautiful face.

Beauty is your name.....you wear the clothes and are a vision of class.
Anytime you are at an affair ......they assume you are VIP or First class.

I want to know what's on your mind......as you go about your day.  Who has your mind, body, and soul? Who keeps you warm at night....or is your bed kept cold?

Come and talk to me.....I really want to know your name.  Although, I am too shy to speak.  A portrait of beauty who resides next door.  All eyes on me as you exit out the door. Here's my chance....but what do I say? Not much because you take my breath away.

Your the only one I want to slow dance with.....I know you are not a gold digger and you won't have to shed any tears.  I'm all you need to get by.....and I'll get the keys from Marvin's Room.

Music reminds me of you

A house is not a home if you are not there....my imagination roams freely and there we are one.  We lived happily ever after and you gave birth to a son.

Don't wake me I'm dreaming.......I had a taste  of Brown sugar and I just couldn't get enough.

Music reminds me of you.....please refill my cup.

I'm pouring out my thoughts on to this paper.....letting my mind free for the next caper.

I've been a superhero and a lovesick man.  A few stories about putting a ring on that special woman's hand.

A story about suicide and my last ride....sound similar.....but they are not the same.....different car same lane.

Will eyes ever see this creation by me? When I look at my comments.....it says none......I'm not Drake so I'm not on one.

I guess I didn't move the crowd with my words.....if I read it to the masses would I even be heard.  It's absurd that my fellow poets just don't know......they are the gasoline that helps me go......and when I blow it will be because of the fire they ignited and kept lit......

all because they didn't consider it robbery to read my ****.  I apologize for that last line... but it went with the flow.....I just get frustrated when people don't leave a kind or even a bad word.......especially when I drop a piece that I think is great and I really do.....when I create it......it's definitely for me.....but I share it first with you....

The first eyes to see my baby....but you act like she's ugly .....looking at her face....and retreating in disgrace.

I guess you never met a poet who was poor ....but had expensive taste.  That's why my pen stays attached to my waist.....

I wrote this poem sitting in my car after I got off of work and now I'm in the parking lot.  TheTeacher penning jewels and looking to hit that jackpot......

Comments raining when I hit.......I quit! Take this pen and shove it!

Your voice is something that has me in a trance.
I'm the snake in the basket .....now watch me dance.

It's been said that music calms the savage beast....well the sound of your voice provides me with a inner peace.

The day has been hectic .....people with mean faces and gripes.
This is supposed to be The City of Brotherly Love.....but some are not so polite.

It seems everyone becomes a little bit nicer .....once day turns to night.
The alcohol starts flowing and the girls are looking right.  The guys are in a huddle like a pack of wolves....admiring a female who is modeling her curves in a selection that's tight.

The music is blaring from the speakers and girls are dancing with each other. A brother attempts to dance with one and leaves the floor with her crew ......she said "We are not dancing anymore....we we were just having fun."

It's a long walk back to the bar....it feels like slow motion.  You replay the interaction several times like a referee under the hood... but this call won't be reversed.....a few more drinks and your heart is coasting......now you are a tad bit enibriated from too much toasting.

Inappropriate comments on Twitter and Facebook......but you continue posting.

When I end the night ....I come home to you.  You make my day worth living.  Before I go to sleep can you sing to me?

The day was tough...my friend embarrassed themselves....it was so bad I really wanted to yell.

I just took sometime and remembered your voice .....the words turned into musical notes as they left your lips. I'm no longer present.....my mind is taking trips....I don't reside in one.....I have many different zips.

So before you ever decide to quit....Can you please .....sing for me?
The beast that resides inside....told me to ask you.

Thinking about sleep because of the title....sorry you have been misled.  This poem is about sand and how easily it slips through your hands.

It doesn't matter how tight you squeeze .....it always slips away.  The hour glass with the coke bottle figure has used it to count time.  Walking on the beach and it covers my toes.....captivating my thoughts and inspiring me to write.......a beautiful piece about you as I lay in glow of the moonlight.

When I come home .....it's everywhere. In my shoes...and my socks......I feel like Spiderman.....I have sand all over me!  

I take a shower and a trail of sand follows me to my bed......I guess I'm the sandman......I fall fast asleep as soon as the pillow touches my head.

Goodnight.......