Blue ocean, sleepless tides
Under the surface
An endless well
Ringing out wedding bells

Holy matrimony, red rose ribbon
Beware the trap
Low-class living
Madman skips the system

Broken road, remote
Is not alone
Endless river, always some place to go
When I is all I own

How do we spend the days of our lives? What slice of the pie do we leave,
for our parents eyes? Add the time spent driving,
going to and from. Divide that up and, you get
about three hours every six months with the ones you love.
Imagine that.
                Life’s a laugh track
Like a re-run sitcom that will never get its air back.
That’s why I spin in circles at the square dance.
If the water is wet,
Then I am diving headfirst and swimming laps.
Rivers turn to roads and,
there ain’t no coming back. I slip out a straw and,
Sip the sun.
Inhale and expand my lungs until I float above,
The streets. Here lies the stoop kid,
Who became a balloon on the breeze.

Someone asked me what being a poet is like.
And I blushed.

Not because I was called a poet
(Which I'm not)
Not because my poems embarrass me
(Sometimes they do)

But because being a poet
Is like that dream.
You know that dream,
where you're naked in front of a class?

Being a poet, painter, and musician
Is like being naked.

You're exposed to the world,
The most private parts of you exposed.
Ready to be judged, lauged at, criticized,
And loved.

It's like the world is looking at you.
The ugly scar on your chest,
Stretch marks from being spread too thin,
Fat pockets from when you weren't strong.

Someone told me I have a comma problem,
It hurt, like somone telling me I was ugly.

I know I'm beautiful though.
I love my imperfections.
My writing is my own, unique.
No critisizm can stop me from being me.

I lay my words uncovered, unaltered
On the page. They wait, breathlessly.
Sometimes being a poet is hard and brave,
Other times it's fun and easy.

Someone asked me what being a poet is like
I said it was great, and then I started to
Write.

(Undress)

Life doesn't have rules
it's nOt all laid out the the beginning
on clean paper
in black
And white.

Some say there is a plan,
some say there is nothing.
I Try to follow direction,
but there is none to follow.