We all live in the past
much too much I think.
Not history, but our own.
We define ourselves
by what we have already been
instead of what we yet may be.

Our past is not a life sentence.
It’s just a life lesson.

WARNING!!
Read all instructions.

Handle with care.
Treat gently.
Hold tightly.
Do not yell.
Love completely.

Maybe we shouldn’t tear this off
when people grow older.

Along the road I’ve learned
a few things about goodbye.

Sometimes, when it doesn’t hurt,
I realize it was probably simply
the right thing to do.

And sometimes, when I lay awake
for nights afterwards,
I know it was all wrong.

What I have not learned
is how to tell which is which
before goodbye.

Frail old woman,
***** hands, gray hair,
at the corner, sign in hand.
Eyes cast down, standing there.

And then I paused
and wondered why –
why was she standing there,
and why do we all drive by?

She has to be
somebody’s mother
or wife or sister.
Has she no one to love her?

Has she no place to go,
no place to be?
If Biden wins that surely
one day will be you and me.

My family thinks
I am very smart
but not so very wise
because when I think of
something smart to say
I am not wise enough
to just shut up.

My hope for us is like
lightning bugs in a jar,
blinking every now and then
like a distant star.

Growing dimmer,
dying in the jar,
and gone forever
if I set them free to fly afar.

I carry a little book
to write down some lines
from time to time

Tonight I started to
write a few about you
and they just kept
pouring out and
sentences kept running on
and words kept getting
all jumbled together and
thoughts were all rambling
and pretty soon
tears were falling and
nothing made sense.
Kind of like you leaving.

Tonight the Black Ink River flowed
like coffee from an old cold cup
poured slowly down the drain.

I woke up screaming, and
thinking you were gone,
I went running down the hall
calling out your name.

You stepped out from
the bathroom door, smiling,
and gently touched my hand
and made the night OK.

And then I awoke again.
and you were
gone.
And the Black Ink River flowed

This New York world is just too big;
the ***** grinder never seems to stop.
I need to get back to your touch.
Just one more project to get done.
I was almost on my way to you, but
you were already on your way away,
you were already on your way gone.

Denver is just too cold for me;
I need the beach and summer sun.
A few more snowfalls and my
writing here will soon be done.
I was almost on my way to you, but
you were already on your way away,
you were already on your way gone.

Folly Beach just sounded right:
the perfect place to hide and finish
what I never seem to get completed.
Not much longer, I’ll be home.
I was almost on my way to you, but
you were already on your way away,
you were already on your way gone.

Slavery was abolished in the Civil War,
but for the last 4 decades,
Politicians have worked diligently
to create economic slavery,
not just for poor minorities,
but equally for everyone.

Your marriage will undoubtedly
and most assuredly fail
if you treat her
like she treats you.

You cannot criticize
the clothes she wears
the friends she chooses
the way she drives

You can’t complain
about her snoring
or tell her that
her family’s boring.

You can’t tell her she’s
had too much to drink
can’t dance at all and
that her singing stinks

When she comes in
two hours late,
don’t dare to ask her
where she’s been.

And with all certainty,
don’t ever bother
to tell her that
she’s just like her mother.

I guess I’m not very smart,
maybe even a little stupid
or possible even a complete *****.  
I keep trying to do this foolish thing
called thinking on my own.

I’m probably not very good at
understanding data and information,
concepts and theories, and
using logic and problem solving,
to form opinions of my own.
  
So I guess I should just keep trusting
NBC
CBS
ABC
FOX
CNBC
Facebook
Twitter
Politicians

Sometimes the poet drops
poet-tears on paper
for those who cannot
write or cry.

She said, as she walked out
and slammed the door –
I don’t know why I wasted
all these years with you!

I guess she doesn’t realize
I wasted those years too.

Why do people feel the need
to pull you back
when you want to fly?

To check off boxes
that define what you
must be and try?

To create a list of what you
cannot be and draw boundaries
that try to limit you more?

To tell you all the dangers
if you fail, instead of  
the glory if you soar?

There is a right
time and place
to say
“I love you”

That time and place
is when you feel it
and know it
and need to share it.

The only other
time and place
might be never
or too late.

I must be a suicide lover –
every time I get killed  
losing at love,
I go out and try again.

Cracked up.
Total breakdown.
Unexpected.
Just one day
I went out of your mind

In six days, God created
earth and man,
and on the seventh day
He rested.

But on the eighth
He realized His work
was incomplete,
and He created
chocolate cake.

I know God has a reason
for every one he calls
to join Him
in His hallowed halls.

But I still miss you constantly,
fond memories still bring pain.
I use my mental braille at night
to feel your body once again.

Everyone in your life
exists for a reason.
Some are there
to be your teacher
and some to be your student.

And some are there to test
your anger management skills.

Without discourse or conversation,
or ideas bantered in open discussion,
we all become dead-minded members
of the HERD, just meandering,
instead of members of the HEARD,
striving for understanding.

Love is just a poker game.
Everyone starts
with a stack of chips.

Red for heart.
Blue for trust.
White for hope.

The gamblers walk into the world,
pull out their chips,
and sit down at the table.

Show-down is the game.
Winner take all and
losers go home broken.

I have an incredibly
severe case of
ugophobia.

The fear that
you go away.

Why are we never satisfied
with what we have,
always wanting, still,
what we do not yet have,
forgetting that on yesterdays,
what we now have
is what we wanted then.

If there were some way,
If I could find it,
I would leave this body behind.

Undress completely
From my bones
And leave my flesh.

I would be silence,
Void of any thought,
Totally absent of me.

I would forget
my breath
and all my sounds.

I would walk on hands
In fear of footprints,
Tracks of a five-toed bird.

I would become an absence
Of words, thoughts, memories:
A five-toed bird taken to flight

And in a year
Of all dark days
I would be forgotten

When hope seems gone
And days seem dark
I drop to one knee
And think of 23.

Fifteen and me,
the untreatables,
agreed
to experimental surgery.

Sometimes I question why  
I was the one to survive
But mostly I thank God
I am one alive.

The Fear Of Being Alone
is the root cause of
suffering by staying.

It clouds the judgement,
and distorts the vision.
of seeing the time to go.

Common sense on its own
cannot overcome
the Fear Of Being Alone.

Death will come -
no one will beat the odds.
So why live life so cautiously,
that when it comes,
you regret the path you’ve taken.

Our lives are meant
to challenge all the odds,
to love and laugh and live
a life so full that
death is just a punctuation mark.

Facebook, Twitter, and texts
have did thier best
to obliterate
the english language.
Gramer, spelin, capitels,
and all that sort
are goin the road
of dinasours

Can't we please
B Literate?

Sometimes late at night
I become a man-shell
sitting there,
not sad,
not happy,
not anything.

Not thinking
about tomorrows
or dreams
or anything.

It’s just me
and walls,
and random noise.
not anything else.

Just me
not watching
or doing anything
waiting
and nothing else.

I don’t understand why
people fear the darkness.
Do they not close their eyes
to give a loving kiss,
and trust the ultimate unknown?

I pull the blankets overhead,
wrapped around you,
surrounded by the darkness
where we see with only hands.

Hello
Will you dance with me?
Hello,
Will you hold me, please?
Hello
Will you marry me?
Goodbye
Hello’s the word before goodbye.
It’s just the word before goodbye.

Why do people always say
Tomorrow will be a better day?
This is a tomorrow, and
It isn’t better than yesterday.

They meet in the corner at McDonald’s
every Wednesday.
Old men drinking coffee, talking softly
And every now and then
the club gets smaller again.

Everyone thinks it’s just old men
with nothing to do.
Passing time and watching time passing.
But the manager knows why they come
and he gives them coffee free.

Together many years ago
they shot down two planes at Pearl Harbor
Landed at Omaha Beach
Survived the Bataan Death March
Won a Silver Star and two Purple Hearts
At the Battle of the Bulge
And freed Auschwitz.

Just old men sitting in the corner at McDonald’s
Every Wednesday.

The worst battle you will ever start
will be between your head and heart,
when one tells you it’s time to go
and the other cries out NO!

Be kind to me
with soft words and looks
and I promise to be
not man enough to love,
and hurt.

I will be kind to you,
with words enough, and looks
to make you glad to have me stay
a little while,
with no regrets that I am finally gone.

Sometimes it’s just best
to smile and nod and agree
with whatever the idiots say,
and go back home
and live your life your way.

Seems to me, if God
wanted us to be vegetarians,
he would have had Noah
build a smaller Arc
and just take 2 of every seed.

If I could do it all again,
Live my life from start to end,
doing everything the same
is what I’d do -
except the part of losing you.

Hey! Someone somewhere!
It’s me, over here.
Another someone somewhere
looking too.

Looking everywhere,
both ways at every corner,
for someone somewhere,
lurking, searching too.

I’ve lived here all my life –
At least that’s how it seems.
I always thought I’d spend these years
Living out my dreams.

But I’m not what I thought I’d be
When I started down this road
Thirty years of busted dreams
Is a real **** heavy load

I’m going home, find my favorite chair
I’m finished with this fight
My heart is tired, my soul is sore
Tonight might be the night

One day an old and worn-out train
will come along and call my name,
and I will know to climb inside.

There will be no need to run.
I’ll have no shadow in the sun
and know there is no need to hide.

And then the man I tried to be
will look out the glass and see
fields of dreams and azure skies.

And I will have no fears or tears,
and will not pray for one more day

The train runs swiftly on silent tracks
Allowing yesterdays to flash back,
thousands in the blink of an eye.

Wave to me, and do not cry
As the whistle blows and I pass by
On one last ride to see the sea.

And then the man I tried to be
will look out across that sea,
and see horizons of goodbye.

And I will have no fears or tears
and will not pray for one more day,

Tomorrow is my song.
Always tomorrow
with its chance of change.

On tomorrow
perhaps somewhere else
perhaps someone else
will step from falling leaves
or falling snow
or falling rain
and I will be there to meet her
and no longer need tomorrow.

But tomorrow is my song today.
Always tomorrow.
But I need.
Today.

It was a beautiful hello
Eyes met
Hands touched
Heart dreams collided

It was a beautiful goodbye
To lonely and alone.

Lions belong in jungles.
Sharks belong in the ocean.
Eagles belong in the air.
Monkeys belong in trees.
Frogs belong in ponds
My Mind belongs in jails.

I have scratched and clawed,
fought and scrambled,
hurried and waited,
and finally made it
to OK.

Thank you for dropping in -
I know your time is short
And mine is passing quickly.
So quickly you will

Learn to tie a bow,
count to 10, and
catch a ball

Make you own ponytail,
drive a car.
Flirt.

Find a guy
Say good bye.

Just where she is
and where she goes
and why
but her God knows

and where he lies
in restless rest
and cries
her God cares less.