3
2
1
Blast Off
We're heading straight for the moon
Don't expect us soon

Life is an adventure book
It's not like I'm not trying
Seems whatever page I choose
I always end up dying

You'd never how small it feels
to be murdered by words
Time I pick my happy ending
and live life in reverse

Dried leaves can windsurf
Dead trees rollick in the breeze
My ashes will dance

The king licks his paws
As his victim writhes in pain
Pride will dine tonight

Ants march with purpose
Far superior to me
They're necessary

A downey woodpecker just checked out the place
It's a two bedroom, and he loves the space
Now he has a cozy place to sleep at night
And I finally have a neighbor I like

When writing don't take yourself too seriously

Try to keep it fun

That's what I always tell myself

As I reload my gun

Said it was a hoax
Laughed at masks, refused vaccines
No sympathy here

Do I have to change in order to get "likes"
Is my style uncool or not expressive enough
Should I write about mountains and wind kissed flowers
Should I write like I read a thesaurus for hours
I admit it gets frustrating to get 500 views
And out of all that maybe 10 "likes" or few
Maybe I should write about love and falling trees
Maybe I should write like I would never speak
To me poems should be appeasing to the brain and the ear
Instead of sounding like a wannabe Shakespeare
I am who I am and I'll continue to write
But not about misty dawns or the pale moonlight

Birds and fish alike
Drown in viscous black liquid
Only mankind breathes

One day she turned where there was no bend in the concrete
Skipping in bare feet
It looked triumphant, but it was retreat
Far far back to the days before poetry
And gaudy words for all to see
She skipped into a past where she could keep it all in
Afraid to mutter a word
Not wanting to burden the wind
So she built herself a rocket out of satin and tears
She'll be orbiting Earth for the rest of her years

Thank you for calling today
This call will be recorded
so watch what you say
If you really are sick
choose option six
Not that it will matter
We don't care one bit!
Otherwise we're too busy
to answer your call
and the mailbox is full
until civilization falls

Maple syrup rain,
drenches the Earth in sweetness;
I awake hungry

Explosion of dreams
Long gone into the stark night
Our flame has burnt out

I'm writing our song
The moonlight is the rhythm
Stars the mnemonics

If you've never
loved
And you've never
lost
Then you've never
lived

Expired oak leaves drip
onto crystal clear canvas
Golden ponds abound

Here it's gold and warm
Always smells of summer storms
This place is peaceful

The moon joins the sun
They paint the sky in pastels
Today's hue is peach

You don't see the forest or the trees
You wallow in your own image  
without any reflection
To catch a glimpse risks rejection
I thought you were just short-sighted
You also lack peripheral vision
Luckily history is less one-sided
And even less forgiving

I wish I never met you

I wish I could forget you

I hate saying I regret you

But you hurt me and I let you

Next to an old brown tree
Under a new pink sky
I found a younger version of me
The one who used to fly

Next to new concrete
Under an old pocked moon
I found an older version of me
The one who'll falter soon

Next to you right now
Under a peach fuzz sun
I found peace somehow
And for a moment didn't run

Neptune's behaved well
Still Pluto's been just as good
But no one trusts dwarfs

Let's write poetry
Forget about our real lives
Pretend to be free

Water lilies laugh
As frogs tickle their faces
Innocence at play

Drip drop, never stops
Puddles formed are now the norm
Splash splosh, day's a wash

Shapeless like a monster in the sky
Tilted like a glass eye
Howling like a creature at the moon
Reaching for my spoon

All I ever wanted
Was to be a silver bride
And to hope he doesn't notice
The dead girl at his side
All I ever needed
Was the will to be baptized
So they could rinse me of my failures
In the waves of a red tide

Faceless like a stranger in the night
Clutching my heart tight
Hiding like a vampire from the sun
Reaching for my gun

All I ever wanted
Was to be a purple bride
And we could have the little funeral
On a crumbling mountainside
All I ever needed
Was the will to be chastised
Then I could wash away my suffering
In the waves of a red tide

Don't date Dracula
He's devilishly handsome
But he won't reflect

I'm sorry I can't give the
love
you feel

I'm sorry I can't feel the
love
you give

I'm sorry for everything
I've done

More so for what
I never did

I once knew a man
Who was shattered but caring
He died but still lives

If I could ***** my life onto paper,
what would that look like?
If I could projectile my being into words,
how would it read?
If I could splatter myself on canvas
like the moonlight
Could I finally rip it up
and become me?