A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

It seems yesterday
she lay four eggs by me
but didn't come to stay
she was soon a memory.

Her plume yellow green
eyes dark as sea
a short time she had been
then gone hastily.

She was not by my side
nor in the nesting ***
my heart was pierced wide
she was all I got.

Seeing me glum and hurt
they brought a bluish plume
I shunned her at the start
my heart was still in gloom.

Before long I fell for her
she preened me soft and sweet
helped me heal the scar
get back lost heartbeat.

Back to happy mood
I worked up one new nest
loved her best I could
putting the past to rest.

Rolled by fast the weeks
good times leave in haste
past few eggs and chicks
death laid her to rest.

Like this they came and went
seasons of joy and grief
the ones my love I lent
stayed but for too brief.

Now stalks me the claw of age
my plume are shedding fast
all I have is a cage
to ruminate loves of past.

Sometimes God, will take people out of your life.
So that he may, do an work within you at the time.
Sometimes God , will place you in a lonely place too.
So that he may, get your attension for once here.
Sometimes God, wants you to stay single here.
So that he may, use you in ways that you are unaware.
Sometimes God, ways  might seem hard here.
But when he wants, you to do something here.
He shall make an way, for you to suceed at it here.

A dismal duet-
more like a sad solo
of two hearts
breaking in harmony.
Their tone is flat and
the lyrics don't rhyme.
The melody has gone
astray and the
music dies.