I’m addicted to memories, they flood my brain
Some cause happy tears, others cry in pain
Long days in the sunshine, the nights we had
I try to remember good times, but there are some bad

Strong memories of family, for all the ones who’ve passed
Thoughts of all the love I felt, I hope those memories last
I remember the days of summer we all spent together
I try to forget the days of stormy weather

I can’t remember it all, I’m getting too old
I can still feel love in every memory I hold
Life is just a simple thing, we live, love and die
My addiction to memories, always makes me cry

Words and fire

one intangible, one elemental

so different from each other

yet so similar in nature

when use with care

both give warmth and comfort

                 and

when not careful

destruction follows.

If you ever fall down,

think of yourself

as a waterfall.

I’ve got a new pad, 50 pages
That’s a lot of room for my rages
Enough space to spill my soul
Getting to the cardboard, that’s my goal
It might take me a while
I’ll have to laugh, cry and smile
When I finally get to the end
The cardboard will be my friend

Finally some cardboard, where I feel at home
I can write the words I’m proud to own
The other pages, they were OK I guess
A few good rhymes arranged in a mess
I like the cardboard, it treats me so well
It’s the last of the stories I tried to tell
My new pad is clean, it’s going to be great
As for the cardboard, I’ll just have to wait

I drink; therefore I write
I write, therefore I am

Words that can’t be spoken
Must be read with an open heart

My heart bleeds words
I am a poet at heart

My pen writes the truth
The truth comes with pain

The thousands of words I’ve written
Are only tears on the page

A hopeless romantic
Makes a good poet

Love is a teacher
I have failing grades

Only death is permanent
Life is just a temporary dream

Love is a fleeting sunset
I live for the night

Dreams are for the dreamers
Reality is for the wicked

Time is for everyone
No one has the time

I am a heartbeat
Skip to my Lou my darling

The past is a place to stay
The future has no vacancies

The winners take the prize
Second place is the first losers

We are all crazy here
It’s not a contest

In my mind I’m a hero
Time loves a hero

A lost soul is a disguise
Only a fool turns and runs

Life waits for no one
I’m already too far behind

If I only had a moment
I could tell you my heart

Tomorrow only brings today
Yesterdays are long gone

Darkness balances the light
Sorrow weighs the heart

Youth is a fleeting dream
Old age is hell

Mysteries are to wonder
Nature is to wander

I can only speak for me
A speech is for everyone

Sentimental values tax the heart
Letting go is the price

I can only write what I feel
Poetry shows my soul to all

I thank my muse
For making me write





I thank my fellow poets for being there. I know you pour out your hearts and bare your souls. I feel your pain and I respect your words.

With passion and heart; **

My whiskey bottle is crying, it’s empty for the night
Guess I’ll just sleep it off until the morning light
Tomorrow will be better, my bottle will be full
I can take the cap off and have another full pull
My whiskey keeps me sober; it helps to hide the pain
It holds back the sorrows that seem to pour like rain
Now it’s the afternoon and my bottle’s working fine
I feel better as the whiskey clouds my mind
My whiskey bottle is sleeping, dreaming of tomorrow
Thinking about drowning all that pain and sorrow
Wash away the troubles; rinse away the blues
Soaking down the problems that always come in two’s
Now I’ve got my cap off; tilted with the bubbles running free
Keep them going; keep it flowing, till I can’t see