.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs
with a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, sit tight
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
As for me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s been justified by hatred
only entitled to the royal queen

Outside my window,
I heard a lonely dog wail
his tired nightly woes
—
The echoed alarm
overcame the crickets cry
temporarily

"Just keep your love about you."
said the kettle to the ***.
"What you have, you have to give
because charity is all you've got."
"And keep yourself together."
said the kettle to the cup.
"Some day soon you'll find a spoon
that stirs your spirit up."

If I could only
hold the wind,
perhaps I'd know
how freedom feels
And to find it
once again might
take the blisters
off my heels
For now, I'm lonely -
scratchin' skin
beneath the rags of
where I've been
Stumbling around
a broken mind -
afraid of falling in

If I could only
catch my breath,
perhaps I'd make
my way back home
The day I find
you waiting  
is the last day
I'd have to roam.
For now, I'll just keep
walking till I find
what I've left behind
hoping it didn't die
somewhere inside
this broken mind

"You're a half step
behind", she said.
"You don't have to
chase the beat..
Just let the rhythm
oil those bones",
she laughed, "and flow
to your two left feet..
It's nothing you have
to try to do.
We're all born to dance.
But some are just
too self-aware and won't
give themselves a chance"

Then she smiled and put
her hand in mine and
it calmed my busy brain.
And the whole night
we spent cheek to cheek,
dancing in the pouring rain.

I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
melt into every embrace..

I loved you long
before I knew you

And now..
all the more.

Distant thunder roars
Maple branches surrender
to the gusting wind
---
A busy boy turns
toward the darkening clouds
waiting for the rain