I would talk to you, but I have nothing new to say
We spend the hours of our day
together

In spare time we joke and play
Chat about yellow, blue and grey
weather

I meditate while you pray
Our minds connected so they can't stray
tether.

Even though it sounds cliche
Your smile makes me float away
feather

Listen to this song again

Beginnings are uncanny ends

That moment

One occurrence

Seconds split between friends

What time is it?

Last laugh

Bell's ring

stumbles past

Ice cubes and cold air

Gasp

One more round, please

Gulp

I'm a bit nervous about doing this

Rather a bit anxious

between the stool and the poker chips

I've spent too much on this

What's your name ***?

We can tryst if you share your name

I can show you I'm not to blame

for the sadness and dim lights

and the shame

The tab is mine to claim

*You reek of whiskey and smoke

slam!*

step  step  step

click! Buzz  

pshhh Nonsense...


drip


drip


drip  

Shower...

sigh

foom

inhale

exhale

inhale

*exhale

Its a bit too much much, what we feel
between your mascara lines
and my rifle's steel
My carbon-tipped boots and your high heels
paying for your nails and these light bills
your fingertips are still digging deeper into my back pocket
My wallet, I wanted this  
but steady paychecks don't mean we can afford a tryst
with a solo violinist and a dinner candle-lit
pent-up in the penthouse painted
red, jaded rooftops, movie sponsorships
Blockbuster hits not folded dented
Like your life is rented through my hardships

I have found you
  Have found you outside
            Found you outside even
                        You outside even though
                                Outside even though cold
                                              Even though cold is
                                                       Though cold is abound
                                                          ­           Cold is abound yet
                                                             ­                  Is abound yet I
                                                               ­                   Abound yet I have
                                                            ­                                     Yet I have found
                                                           ­                                             I have found you

A ghost use to be something I was.
I'd pop up, do some crazy stuff
and disappear, just because.

Even though my interactions were brief,
I changed the lives of the people I encountered.
Due to this, my disappearances caused much grief.

I've turned that nasty habit into something constructive.
A series of poems, the contents uncorrelated.
Still, the theme is reproductive.

They are all random thoughts and incomplete theories
A complex ball of conflicting emotions.
I'm talking, of course about my "Ghost" series!

You and I are cut from the same stone
Diamond
We can see the full spectrum but red doesn't show our anger.
Bull.
It is the motion that incites our movement.
Equilibrium
We can only rest when we know our limitations.

Nobody ever told you to have a high opinion of me.
I know I can be friendly.
However I am quick to stab and ******
Into your psyche. I might be off, slightly,
Because of some anomaly. I'll politely
correct myself then get all touche feely
with your feelings.

Every door in this place creaks,
shattering the silence of the empty echoing
of faucet leaks.

Drips are part of the  company I keep.
Along with drops, smoke trails and static details.
Fuzzy sounds penetrate the hell I face while asleep.

Move like water,
for water flows at a steady pace
determined by it's physical state.

Ice is slow and unrelenting.
The colder it is, the more it stings
like a Tesla coil spring.
It become electrifying and burning to the touch.

Liquid is the smoothest.
It is life's essence.
Wether swirling with the wrath of a hurricane or sitting stagnant
It can never be cut or formed into fragments.
When divided it will always return to the lowest place to evaporate.

Gas is the hot head of the three
or I should say exciting to the point of steaming
you can't touch it but you can feel it heating
up the surface, pushing everything that gets too close away.

The best thing about all these states,
is that they are neither aggressive nor defensive
They move at their own pace
Interact with them incorrectly  and they will show your place.

Move like water,
for water flows at a steady pace
determined by it's physical state.

We started too quickly.
Both torn from our last companion.
So we rushed in, sickly
And lept from the grand canyon
No landing zone. No bungee
Only resistance was my banyan.

As we descended into certain doom
a single thought occurred; I don't like you.
I'm pushing you away so I may land in my own tomb
And when comes the cleaning crew
My mess won't mix with your gloom.
Such a reliving thought to be separated with hew



A most despicable thought is being for better or worse with you

Sincerely,
Timothy Brown.

P.S If you don't understand, I'm breaking up with you.

They met in a bottle neck
mingling with Excitement and Regret

The purpose of purpose has no purpose.
You must however have purpose
or at least A.
Even if your purpose is finding purpose

Meticulous and loveless, she does her duty
with flawless execution in a calculated fashion.
Every task she has accomplished
is done with a robotic passion

The wires of her brain
are smoldered in place.
Insulated with old errors
she computes a quiet disgrace.

Malicious programs in a trojan horse
sent from a suspicious source with a familiar name.
She brought down her firewall to let him in
which is why she feels such shame.

I watch her as she marches;
no style, no finesse, no grace.
I want to give her a soft touch or an honest whisper.
But I'm prevented by the anti-virus in within my interface.

Lori,
Logan,
Jodi,
Jojo,
Hilda,
Weeping Willow
and **two Tims!

There are things in my head
which don't make sense
I feel blessed and cursed
in the same sentence
I'm a menace
constantly forgetting where I placed my penance
like nobodies business
I wail like a ghost
because life escapes my grasp.
Like wet fingers holding onto a bar of soap.
I'm slipping and stumbling
swearing up and down it isn't me.
Like when you ask a drunk if they are
being what the world sees.
Inconsolable.
Uncontrollable.
Kutisha plagues my dreams.

Your blessed
with nothing less
than a poet's
verse and thoughts
of a person stressed
by fantasies and a mind possessed
with the dictionary
Body's hidden in the trees.
Spirit flowing with the breeze

Its nothing less
than light in a benighted city

Its nothing less
than beauty on a face blemished

You are nothing less
than the words you use.
they transcend death
and abuse
the evil in humanity's soul.
Your ideas are bold.
As you grow old remember,
your blessed with nothing less.

She is beautiful.
Not in the way of Helen of Troy.
Nor in the way Barbie is idolized.
No.
She is beautiful.
Like the sunset reflects
off a serene lake.
Like a breeze that grazes
the skin on a hot summer day.
Like a full moon that cuts through
a midnight fog.
Her beauty does not lead men to war.
Nor does it lead women to starve,
cut and make-up who they are.
No.
Her beauty demands attention,
inspires creation
and crumbles the prisons
of convention.

All I know is what other people describe.
Butterflies in your tummy.
Sunshine on a cloudy day
But I... oh I...
I think differently than
picturesque realities.
It must be. It has to, you see.
For I, you, me, we, us and this
is merely a physical expression
of our emotional bliss.
So when I say love, I don't think of doves
or an end-of-the-date kiss.
I think of the times when your away
and I have no way to say
or express my distress
other than multiple texts
saying "hey" and smiley faces
I sprinkle throughout your day.

The name came from fields.
Acres of humans forced to work until
They die or are killed.

The rhythm came from drums.
The ones you beat, slap and roll
Off the movement of a tongue.

The steps came from ancestors
Unknown. The only thing they left
Was a rhythm; the symbol
Of a throne, cloned  by those
Who do not know their history or home.

Let us get drunk and watch Winnie the Pooh together.

I don't want you to be perfect, just be passionate.

A text filled with monstrocities
Baffling
Babbling
Bleeding
The Horror in the Museum
Reeling
Writhing
Reducing
Poor Stephen...

Curiosity ate the cat

I've missed hundreds of poems.
A potent poet focused on verses well spoken.
Not one that's been chosen,
Just one that's been frozen.
Stuck on ambrosian bread;
No head, Soft bed, Strong bread:
Just got better instead
On a strand. Better than
Better hand. Rather than
Burning myself, I went outside
And got some help with understanding
the hand I've been dealt.

A biting cold gnawing at the bones

                                                          ­                                                    



                                                             ­                                          




                  ­                                                                 ­                             Freezing the marrow at the source

                      



                           



                              ­   I dare to be so bold to wear a T-shirt

                                                       ­                   


                                           ­ 




                                                            ­                         Body fluttering like a sparrow in the devil's hour

    


                                                             
­




                        There is nothing like brisk air to shake my mind from despair

                                      

    





                                                     ­                                      and rile my body

                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­          



                             



                  ­                              I will seek and find an excuse to leave my lair.

Its my daughter's first birthday. I  haven't seen her yet.

Something like flower children
dancing through a field of trees.
I know it's called a forest
but I'm more set on calling
it what I please. Point being,
I'm joyous like I'm eating
the end of the month's harvest.

Lets take time to think
and drink.
Take a break
from the proverbial rake.
Enjoy the seeds
grown into trees.
For the sweetness of the fruit
stems from the root.

Infatuated
with a woman I won't meet.
She took her own life.

I am too afraid of feeling to talk to you

Fly through my window, my sugar-lump, to find molasses candy

Concentration is too limp
to penetrate my skull
My thoughts are like mold
slowly eating away at my sanity
There must be a way
There has to be a way
To protect my soul.

Give
life and love.
Give
the labor of.
Give
food and home.
Give
day and gloam.
Give
patience in spill.
Give
wounds with squill.
Give
knowledge is known
Give
until they've grown

I want to show you the corners of the world.

Hunny in a hole, don't look down
Excitedly,pretending your understanding.
Forgotten in a daydream like I can't tell
Further into the ***, there might be cheese at the bottom
Accosted by dreams and fantasies
Lead them home with a whistle and a song
Uh oh, you ate it and threw it in the pit.
Must. Get. Out. Of. This. Jar.
Particular love for a bear and pig

I have never woken up and felt so **** alone.

When your name leaves my lips
I'm reminded of your kiss .
Each letter caresses this tongue
as yours in moments of bliss.

Between the headaches & heartbreaks
lives a man unaltered by mistakes

I spent a day counting the tiles
on the roof and floor.
On the windows and doors
I kept counting as I walked miles.

On each slab of concrete.
In the lines of the faces of people I meet.
On turtle shells.
and the sides of wells

I count tiles on doors
and the door itself too
I separate them by colors
like green and blue.

Why do I count tiles you ask?
It could be said
that its a sign of a problem in my head.
To me, its something simple to help the time pass.