buried in my room , sinking deeper under cover
my mind closes down and the thought of the door (that **** door)
gets farther and harder, and farther away...

a breaker blows. (power out)

i sit up. still can't make the door,
but now I'm writing

I Must Get out of this Room .  

-worst case scenarios / stuck in my head-

(having not slept last night, i was determined today would be different)

I get up, then change my mind about a hundred times regarding a shower
...and try ...and try,  to just make it out the door
I drank a beer, smoked a whole pack, and took my Abilify by four..

[still feeling somehow trapped with no escape
                                     ... by that **** door]

straying off a drum beaten path
magic wonder awakens gleefully
a night alive with music
rhythmic blood pumping sounds that carry me
unalone / unafraid / safe / moving winds spinning freely
-comfortable company-

walking the street hours
he walks the streets in silence
in twilight moments

of quiet chaos
his head so full of shadows
that his waking stays

his mind rambles on  
when your head lay fast asleep
and you have enough

death is at his side
he'll find rest throughout the day
awaiting next move

find places to lay
your concerns are not the same
with darkness looming

A news reporter from Dallas interviewing about the new parking spots.
Talks of war and military combat training with men who know a lot.
The sun is shining along the sidewalk in front of the courthouse square.
A lazy day lending hints of spring soon coming is in the air.
The bell in the tower across the street chimes,
telling me i've one more hour before work and i go back inside.

found out my friend's husband had a stroke,
he's in a wheelchair now
corporate America has bought
all the places where i use to hang out


"fry street" is now townie's
the whole vibe's kind of moved to the square
and those run down old apartments
have a waiting list up to six years



a place where ya use to drink all night,
play chess, or stop to cool your head
now sales sandwiches
made all... on Pita Bread

there's a place beside where the "hack-circle" is no more
that says "crusty.." something by the door

making it clear that my days of 'rad' are dead
(screwit)
i think i'll get a bite down at "banter" instead

A lost treasure i discovered amongst a pile of things, outside and badly weathered,
swollen fat with broken back, but every page still in tact.
Eight hundred pages wrapped in lovely blue,
hundred year old print (Byron Poems), what "lucky-day" for you.

Don't know how others do,
but from her, I get rave reviews ;)

See some people, in my opinion, just don't
know how to leave "perfect" alone.
And God bless her. She is perfect... and to her,
I am too.



-our two lonely hearts on completely seperate paths
far between and few crossings periodically over glasses and laughs
-holding in a special sort of love and comfort,  
the times that we spend together, as dreams and fantasies long remembered
-our two wounded hearts, full in so many other ways,
complete "What might have been," playing at house for a few mythical days



Ah, but life moves on, (Shakespere said, "Parting is such sweet sorrow")
we must again forward tread each our own roads "on 'morrow"...
And accept that "Life is what it is" and
[as Woody Allen said] "Whatever Works"


-perhaps this seems to detached of a view to some,
but tell the truth
-don't I count my love?.. [her fair skin, my muse]
does my love less intensify as we part... [unbrused]?
-Our love is good I say,   and shall remain unblemished
because we always say goodbye and part with a kiss, when finished

is not life , and art and their existence in need of some balance.
-As so, our friendship has remained for years by knowing
of Our love... and its limits

looking up for your twinkling eyes
above cloud covers, it's nights like tonight
filled with feelings of indiffence
unsure of my place or if youre missed
silver / white gleam moves accross the sky
in view of steps where i sip on red wine
tommorrow is the begining of another week
i'll search out work, food and a place to sleep
but nights like tonight are lived moment to moment
unsure, but at peace with whatever gets thrown at...
(deep breath)

[Sounds of the "Lumineers" drift accross the yard
... and out into the darkness of the nite
with all thoughts of nothingness creep
and smoke from the last cigarette that sits perched 'tween lips
with glass, half full, dangling from fingertips]

a child, now a man fallen into a void,
found a hole in the fabrics of space and time...
stumbling along a winter night's retreat,
one of life's "easy day" times.





[i keep a notebook with me , that i use to write things out...
i had some trouble remembering today and have just about come full circle now.
eventually i had to stop reading and just think .. "why would i lie to MySelf?"]

if i had to write
(and i do believe i do)
about how much it means to me

the flowers
girls and their shorts
the trees..

i think that i would start with
saying something about a feeling
at ease... free

neatly tucked in a small town
not far from down-
town,

in a little spot i like to call home
a sense fills senses
unaware... warm

with sun on my face, a
particular place
away from "rat-race)

called Denton

random stranger
met him on the street
we shared a table
and conversation turned deep

never met a stranger
this day was quite unique
so convinced of fables
as we talked awhile of "peace"

i wonder if ever there was a stranger
person i could greet
who held so true to labels
like childhood tales and dreams

seeking shelter

The lights go out and the walls begin to rattle.
17 men sleep on the floor in one small dining room's shadow.
The sounds of sniffles and coughs spike, then die out neat.
The real crescendo comes two minutes later, when snoring begins to peak.

On hard linoleum floor, packed in elbow to elbow,
with all the sound of appliances in the kitchen
And now of course, this human instrumental...

Good food,
we all get to eat,
glass still half full
when you remember...
It's either stinky feet,
or a night on the street

gather-grab up the positivity
bottle it, store it
life is beauty warm
you can't ignore it

last couple of days 've been a reel ego-boost
i write too much about downs
but i'll always speak the truth
And the truth about the way
that I've been feeling today
Is that there aint no place to go but up from here
Am I High?
I may need ta check and see
'cause as far as i can tell
Nothing right now could hold me

breathe it in
like fresh wind from the sea
deep breath . . exhale
[ it's positivity ]

an anniversary of a three year old’s             laugh
never old enough to get laugh                               lines
before she flat lined and I                                              wept
I went to visit a teacher today at “Stovall          Hall”
stayed to watch class and enjoy the                              music
haven’t danced in over a year and almost forgot what      for
my body remembers, as does my mind and both are             unforgiving
I feel sometimes that I’ve been living a life that’s lost in reality’s  creases
and my only way out and forward is simply determined                   in
what I do now to stay close and find hope for                                   myself

I typically rhyme
in sixes and sevens,
Count syllables in lines
If you think I’m bull-shittin’

on a mission of self-searching
(search for myself)
a home-coming long awaited
what better a place to be found

like myself, so much about here has changed
this is where i'll make my mark,
but right now i haven't a single penny to my name.

times have changed and it appears that Denton has kept up
sadly though, i believe that i have not.

for so so long i have waited for this day
it has called to me, (this seat, this town, this cafe).
but everything is so so different than before,
perhaps i truly shall find my way, (my place, my course).

my past has now discovered a reckoning,
and i can start again fresher than before
a new hope in me has risen
one that was never there before

tonight has turned out to be
a huge turning point in my reality
more focused on the future than the past
a big wake up for me has happened the last
couple of hours midst the hectic chaos
i've truly found something new for my life to weigh on


i know that it must sound odd
for you to imagine
that i've found something more than god
for me to believe in
but life is strange sometimes
and when you're at your very worst
the most unlikely people can pull your face
up out of the dirt


but tonight i'll sleep for whatever it's worth
and tomorrow is a brand new day
that i'll be facing head on

her holds on me
(more than i held her)

i first spent time with her
in an apartment with no heat,

fell into her with ease
we were young, no stresses and free

laid her down on my couch
party dress, balloon packaging

my friend took her out first
pure and simple, should have scared me

by the glow of candles
warming her face to the lights ream

her smell was different
i was just hoping to get-some

her true intent eluded me
and i got her under my skin

her taste so devilish
tremble my heart as we began

i lost myself to her
and there i vowed never again                      

my friend, was not as lucky
he died, her still clinging to his arm

her power is entrancing
quickly ruining lives with the chase 



but time moves on and things change
i haven't kept her around for years now  

that girl was my hero in one dark moment of my life
then a villain stealing both friends and tears

when Pachelbel makes me want to fly
and I never finished packing, but did burn
all my writing for heat last night
to make it through
just me, my guitar
and youth

if truth was what we seek then
I'd lie to you in breach with
words that make you smile
and ease a need for trials
like a preacher spouting
Van Gogh in syllables
I leave you
impressions
smilingly  
sunny

Surely I write not for the hopeful young,                  
    Or those who deem their happiness of worth,
  Or such as pasture and grow fat among
    The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth,
  Or pious spirits with a God above them
  To sanctify and glorify and love them,                      
    Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth.

  For none of these I write, and none of these
    Could read the writing if they deigned to try;
  So may they flourish in their due degrees,
    On our sweet earth and in their unplaced sky.            
  If any cares for the weak words here written,
  It must be some one desolate, Fate-smitten,
    Whose faith and hopes are dead, and who would die.

  Yes, here and there some weary wanderer
    In that same city of tremendous night,                    
  Will understand the speech and feel a stir
    Of fellowship in all-disastrous fight;
  "I suffer mute and lonely, yet another
  Uplifts his voice to let me know a brother
    Travels the same wild paths though out of sight."

words have run deep for me today
its odd how leaving can make emotions surface
some nostalgic and wistful, others better unspoken
but I guess that's just the way it goes
I believe hearts procrastinate by nature

you fall in and out of love
and shelter feelings too long,
but when the chips are down
and all bets are in
there's just no avoiding honesty
and (no hiding your hand)

that's when it all comes out
all the disappointment and hatred,
melded with love and latent sorrows

how things are destined to go from here
well, i haven't a clue,
but my path now laid
i am leaving with no less hope than you

random poem button
give me something to read with a pulse
dead words from dead people are nice
but too easy and i've read them all before
serve me up a pumping heart
full of feelings or remorse
words with a pulse
something new, something now, ridged or coarse
something fresh that i can sink into
with teeth and eyes that dine and ask for more
random poem button
please hear me write
if i get another poem written
before this last century
then believe you me
i'll just go back to my homepage browsing manually
and never again use
your oh so special feature
instead i'll stay content
to myself, just randomly people search

Open and free again
Open to love
Open to life
Open to be again

Can’t live the rest of life like a monster
Open and free again
Open all doors and breathe it all in

Still me, unfree of sin
But wide open to be, just free

Whatever lurks in corners of my mind
Whatever morbid thoughts linger on the other side
Right now I want free, even if later I freely enslave me

the night is alive with flavor
:)

step out to have a smoke
and stir my head a bit

stabbing pain shoots through me
as red cherry burns flesh

this is my last week in
this desolate wasteland

here life is wearing thin
its time to start again

i'll turn myself in to
settle debts wit' the state

when all's done, i'll return
home... first time in decades

ice-cream scoop carved out my soul,
i'm left here wide awake feeling hollow and cold

I want to like you,

but you make me knot .

One smoke
One sip
One **** at a time

Taken back to the day
We shared paper and lines
I was straight-edge then
Not a drop to drink
I meditated on the balcony
You left dishes in the sink
Ross would bang *****
and smoke hella ****
Now he’s off spreading
theory and anarchy
I hear you’re doing well
A world of “special effects make-up”
I’m drowning in the desert
From a nightmare I can’t wake up
In another ten years we’ll look back and see

Who is broken
And who’s dying
As we all struggle to be free

of...

Pardon please my pedantry,
But I espied sir that in your rhapsody
You sometimes overlook crossing all your “t’s.”
If a point should be taken, then please let it be
That these consequential “t’s” should not be jotted down so flippantly.

3rd and final day of my sister's garage sale
she asked me to sit and watch it while her and my nephew go to church.
"Any price you think is good for anything will be fine"
I sit and watch people sort through stuff and I want to apologize.
For some reason it's a very odd sort of feeling,
inviting strangers to rifle through your belongings.
Either nothing you've kept hidden is worthy of keep
or they'll make you an offer and show you it's cheap.

I would hate to have those onlookers dumpster-diving for deals within me
[I don't believe that I'd measure up either]
Everything I got I'll just keep

An ugly unwashed stranger's hand holds up my soul, turning it round he sneers his nose
"How much you need for this old thing?"
"I stickered it 10 dollars and it's practically new"
"I'll give you a quarter. It looks broken, it's held together with glue"
"Fine, fine. Whatever is fine."

After two days of this I'd go to church too...
to think I may have some things that I still keep hidden
and there's a god up there some place in the sky
who loves me and may still want to buy

study, cram, call, make plans...
power point, presentation, speech, rewrite...
theory, materialism and idealism and the difference,
Marx, Freud to psychoanalyze...
on to polynomials, linear equations, I make a scientific notation...
take a break. (eat)
ham sweet and thick
with lots of pineapple and some cherries
potato bread and cheese
PowerAde to rehydrate
little vodca with o.j. and cigarette  
after lunch, breathe .
and it’s back to study lab to mentally beat meat.
paper due, final today, did I remember to triple check
and get rid of paper clips, include a cover sheet...
ready to evaluate... I think.
ready to second guess, miss dates and time, "you're late"
again...
95, 98, 3.5 GPA? pre-test, for final, make sure your research is done,
site, source, quote, student rate and double space
power nap, smoke again,
is the day over yet?..

Dawn of a new day
watch it rise
last smoke 'till who knows when
turn the heater down and become one with the cold
no more hiding out
new season of life
new days and nights to come
make a decision to crawl out of that shell at last
music is playing
all the movies I've seen
now is the time and here is the moment when
I start again
purposefully

I'm awe struck
got a message from you on Facebook,
I just can't stop smiling.
You flipped my day around,
bright side up from upside down.
You sent a song you played my way,
and breathed new life into me
One moment I was drowning
and then your melody revived me.
You wrote that you missed seeing me around,
but my heart I still keep hidden
buried underground.

i like my glasses.
they're not ones that help me see any better,
but they do help me better not to see. your eyes to mine ,
i can remain around and talk for a time
... with my glasses.

i like my hat,
or hats rather, i have several.
they separate me in my mind from someone else i may be,
but the someone without my hat is the someone you would not meet.
the me without my hat stays locked in a room for days.
he doesn’t come out and you would never want him to anyways.
he's not a charming fellow, the me without a hat,
we're all probably better off if he keeps some thoughts under wraps.

i like books,
and always keep one or two with me.
stories well written, and some not so much.
poetry, and short speeches,
of spirituality, religion, and lust.
i read them all in front of the cafe, or on the bus.

i have no antidote here to offer you,
for the problems that we both seem to hush.
it is what it is,
meaning is found in things that it must.

this is my place
this was the doorway i rented.
this was where i would put things.
this was my bathroom.
this was the mirror i used to look through.
this is the place at the bottom of the stairs.
this is where i didnt sleep.
this was where my head screamed till out of breath.
this was my backpack where i kept paper.
these were the words i didnt write.
those were the sleepless nights.
those were people i loved.
these were things i did to pass the time.
and that.. that was what i had in mind.
these were reminders of the "silly times".
theres where we three all learned to rhyme.
and thats the hallway to down there, thats where i went this last time.
with no light there..
no time..
no games, photos or silly rhymes..
no words to write, no sleepless night..
no stairs down there, no pen and pad, no bathroom,
no mirrors,
no head screaming, no bad dreaming..
no things to put away or place to keep them there.
no doorway rented.

and no place for me .