poetry is most beautiful
written about the love that engulfs ones own heart
but when you write about the love of your
significant other
then soon it becomes
a little break up song

so why is poetry not about the love for the stars
and the world we seem to live on
look around an im sure
your heart will be filled with love and many many more words
and maybe then it will all stay that way
of love and happiness and truth from the heart

so why make it all about him or her
write about the stars
the ocean so vast and mysterious
write about the forests
and the creatures that inhabit it
write about the love of family
and the joys of your best friend
because in the end a poem about him or her
soon becomes another break up song

I let my eyes speak
I smiled and tilted my head
I captured you with my gaze
And invited you to dance

I let my feet stride
I found you when you hide
I walked beside you together
And brought us even closer

I let my hands charm
I protected you from harm
I embraced you when you're lonely
And held your hand in the alley

All this time I shut my mouth
For if I talk, I'll only say three words
Which in turn would erase everything
'Cause I can see you're still not ready

not across the borders
not in the streets
but in the devil that
you greet every morning
in your head
in your head
There are large footprints
from the dead
from the dead
you can’t silence
the anguish
and the terror
you’ve been deceived
look in the mirror
and you cry
and you cry
a river
until you’re
candy apple red
and you crack –
you’ve been smacked
in your head
in your head
there’s a lump
as big as a breast
the autopsy said –

has been ******* you
but not as hard
as you’ve been on
yourself

This world
has been complicated
to say the least
but not as complicated as
your mind when
it’s ill at ease

This world
doesn’t offer many
second chances
but you have taken many
in advance
and still are here
and have much to offer
as anyone
anywhere

to tapering off
I won’t shatter
I won’t fall
I’ll just float away is all.
I won’t break
like others do
I’ll just flake off
into layers –

as chips of paint
that still hold on
but at the same time
come undone
like a splinter of wood
that sticks out
from the frame
so, it’s noticeable
but not part and parcel

for all that thinking
your liver's damaged
from all that drinking
Your heart’s too broken
from all the hurting
your arms too stretched
from all that reaching
your spirit squashed
from all that trying
still morning comes
again, you’re rising

lillies
and lilacs
violet
and white
the scent
of sweetness
makes it
alright
bitter
sweetness
coats
my tongue
vines
creeping
with blossoms
twisting
around
the swing
and there
we sat
just you and me
your hand in mine
for eternity

this feeling is not
symbiotic: you reduce
my core to nothing