Niger Cozier
You are an evil person
And God made you
That way
Niger Cozier
I just hate you guts
Also I am sure you also
Hate my guts
Also we don't see I to eye
Niger Cozier
It is terrible that
You are a racist person
Niger Cozier
You will never going
To be my friend
Niger Cozier
I don't want to have
Anything to do with you
You are an evil person
Niger Cozier
I don't feel sorry for you
Niger Cozier
We will never be friends
Niger Cozier
Go ahead and live
Your life in peace
And let me live my life
Also in peace
It is too bad
That my father made you
Niger Cozier
Also Niger Cozier
I am so happy that
You are not my mother
Niger Cozier
I am so happy that
My father made me
A white man
Also Thanks God
My Parents were white
And they are not alive anymore
Niger Cozier
They have been dead
For a long time now
Niger Cozier
I am a cancer survivor
Niger Cozier
I am very proud
Being the person I am
And there is nothing that
Needs to change in me
I just love being the person
I am
Please Niger Cozier
I hope you don't hurt my feelings
Because I am a human being
With feelings
I also don't trust you
At all
Niger Cozier

The cozier side of loving
Taking the ride inside
a picture pours
The rosier* pompadour
Mirage sale outside
The heart got heavy his
spoonful guided to lighten you

Picked you his cream eyes
Your brush he strokes
He 's hooked but your
unhooked the writing
on the wall
He's having a ball
Whats in his gesture
He's his  own stir
Standing like the still-life
Afterlife do we get our pleasure?

Venus mix of measuring
love pursuing
Needing more
room until?
We sign a love will

Watchtower not much
time
Why do they say time
will tell
The sacramental
"Venus"
Canvas genius

Secretive confidential
Can you ever be more
Specific love is terrific
Modern times
conventional
You just know
the love
The only way
From the bottom or
Your top lips
Venus had you on fire
"
How just knowing
first, love your head
above the canvas
Venus appears
It moves you

But occasionally
it turns off gas heat
He's thinking of
you opening his door
Venus of Gods

Spiritually doctrines
of habits
His cozy tidbits of
stories
Your rising in digits

The big study of the cafe
Painters of biology
So genuinely gifted
On the mountaintop,
he draws his body in
His canvas  of Venus
You're sinfully sweet
body wins

The win or the sin
hard time beats me within

The mystical interpretation
Those erroneous heats I see
Above the sea sweets for me
How he lands me
And than forbidden
Hands me God for what
I didn't really see

Not set to be turned
  like a time machine
can reset my buttons

Venus, you got me
To better love me in my
prime a matter of time
His favorite
You're his pride and joy
This wasn't a ploy
Your long friendship_*
No time for my memories
What outwins my failures
Just laughing it off comedies
He healed you inside at your best
The worst distance painting to rest

Like a triple heart by-pass
of doubles, life was a gas
A sense of who
you are
The religion is a
whole lotta (Zeppelin) love
The shaking (Elvis) painting  
Like a Viva Las Vegas
How the money jingled
like Venus

How you formed me
words listed scorned
To paint each other
The quaint picture
To be reborn again

You get the
picture right? the gain
All commitments
Venus invitations
It transforms into
a world
of forgiveness
Like the enigma
love engine locomotive

Taking your shoes off
Get cozy not to
be crossed off
Here's Johnny
the crossword puzzles

He looked at you
like a  blind man
For the first time
in your life
He was sharper in his
love than any man or wife
He said you are
my person


Venus of love talking,
humming, flaming
importantly, how
I see you reacting
you look
reading along
love_book
But laughing is
the best
medicine

Venus, All mine to love you
and me maybe a baby
That's the name she's Venus

On the sweet wind
Of a lovely spring day
The kite dances on the wind
Up it flies
Like my spirit
In the wind

The kite silhouettes
Against the sun
The light glistening
Off the thin plastic
Of his flimsy wings

But together
The kites
Dance and dance
In the spring day sun
Shining down
So comforting
With my fiends
You can't tell
Which is cozier

The sun...
Or their love

I want to see you in the summer
Sitting at the edge
With our feet in the water.
The ice creams in our hands melt
As the temperature gets hotter.
We don’t speak as we eat,
But we don’t have to,
Because the silence between us is not uncomfortable.

I want to see you in the moonlight
When we would walk so far that my feet bled,
Our eyes fixed on the road ahead-
But you walk close to me
And turn on your flashlight
Because you know that I am scared of the dark.

I want to see you in during autumn
When the leaves are the color of your hair.
Your words are so carefree it’s not even fair.
We look cozy in sweaters;
I’d be cozier if I was closer to you,
But you forge a path ahead,
And I follow you.

I want to see you illuminated
A dim glow cast on your features
By a 1980s horror film.
It doesn’t scare me, yet I wish it did
Because then maybe you would hold me,
But I wouldn’t pretend, because to you I would not lie.
This is just a movie between two friends: you and I.

I want to see you in the wintertime
Red cheeks and nose
Mine are too,
But not from the cold-
I think about these things as I’m hit by a snowball from you.
You laugh while I pretend to be mad
As the cold infiltrates my shirt,
But I don’t feel it,
Because we all know that I’m burning for you.

I want to see you every which way
Dressed up, dressed down;
Distressed or acting like a clown;
Excited, acting with reckless abandon;
Content, allowing me to see you undone.
I want to see it all,
But right now, I want to see you.

this is the part where your feet share a slip on shoe
because you felt hot, and now you're cold again,
and one shoe is cozier than two.

honestly, watching a man inch past me with a dull red shirt
and a duller red walker to match,
socked feet swollen in brown Velcro sandals
makes my own legs twitch and my heart sing;
it reminds me to take a flying leap from this table
outside a conventional coffee shop
and kick my legs into a graceful stride
until I trip on a pebble and come tumbling down--
such is the art in my elegant facade,
of which I am only convinced.

really, I'm just here so I can write,
pretend that I'm a fancy published writer
with leagues of followers salivating
at the thought of new words from my finger tips
that frankly do type at hare speed.

I'm writing to the beats and poetry of your songs,
the playlist you created and shared
once you asked for my instagram handle.
enthralled is a good word:
I'm enthralled by you, by your presence
and the tiny amount of ****** hair under your chin,
how you arch your eyebrow and push back your long hair,
shorter on the sides all around.

when I close my eyes your hand is on the smallest of my back,
and you're guiding me in front of you, along a narrow walkway,
until we reach steep stairs, and we laugh at where we are
because we've both been here before, before this moment that
connected you and I and the others around us
who faded once morning grew near.
mocking vampires, we welcomed the sunlight and ran in its wake,
shoulders bouncing, hair whipping in the mist, laughing hysterically.

Here I sit,
Perplexed and confused to say the very least
She has no idea what wonderful things she has
Throwing it all away for what?
Oh for some fun, wild crazy irresponsible fun
Why is it that frivolous madness is what we all crave over structured wonderful?
Is it not enough that the sky is blue, birds are singing and you can get Swedish fish with every meal?

Just to be happy watching movies, kittens in boxes, tossing m&ms; laughing as the room falls into a mess
I’ll address this whole mess tomorrow I always say.
The room is beginning to feel a bit smaller and cozier
It always seems that way when you come around
“Lets look for classy people”
What if I told you that you were classy and I was classy and maybe what they all are saying could have some merit?
What if we give off all of these signals so grand we could summon Batman?
Because they are there and we could never hide them?

Something we could never ever fight off with our coats,
Like the winds here that blow us around like fraternity flyers,
Crashing me into walls and benches, skittering about campus.
Pick me up
Read me or throw me out
You’d never recycle me that’s for sure.
Keep me in your pocket, put me on your bulletin board.
Ill gladly sit there all day,
To be there every moment you need someone to talk to

You don’t need to worship me,
Adore me,
Praise me,
Cajole me,
Indulge me,
Or even Impress me.

Just pick me,
Choose me,
Love me.

What about if I dared you? Would you run away with me then? You seem like a risk taker. Im all yours, if you're all in. We could skip town, I doubt they'd even notice. Just listen to me, please.. Baby, don't lose focus. Now picture this, me and you forgetting about what plagues us. Not remembering the pain, living in the now. Tell me this, when was the last time you woke up, willing to get out of your cozy bed, because everything surrounding you just seemed so much...cozier? When? Baby, happiness would be abundant and we would be infinite. Freedom would come naturally, imagine not being limited! All we have is each other, because that's all we really need. It's all we'll ever have, so why not let it be?

I promise I'll pick someplace nice. I know you, I know what you'd like. Imagine every time you heard silence, you could pick up on G-ds whispers through the trees. Imagine seeing green as for as your eyes would allow. Imagine falling asleep on a luscious grass plain, me in your arms, engulfed by the beauty of our surroundings. Being swallowed by sweet air, and wrapped inside the darkness of the night. Without a care in the world. Baby doesn't it sound lovely?

Let's just pick up everything and go. All of our money, some of our clothes. Come one baby.. let's get out of here.

Baby... Promise me that if I ask, promise me you'll pick dare.

i kept our love
in the pocket
of my favourite coat
where it would be safe.
it stayed there
for days
just getting cozier
and more pleasant.

I didn't notice the gaping hole,
which only seemed to get bigger
as our love
poked at it all the time.
slowly falling apart
at the seams.

one day,
our love dropped into
the lining.
And I never wore
my favourite coat
again.

white coat covering solemn ground,
my palms are both cracking and mending,
my eyes both rapidly cycling and softly meditating,
my mythical equilibrium both scratching at the surface,
and tucking itself in for the night.

--

somewhere distant
but not far,

your lungs are the lantern in my attic-shaped heart,
maintaining a hushed illumination
and a delicate snowfall,
euphoniously humming a reliable tune,
foreshadowing cozier winters
of hope and comfort.

A poison so sweet, irresistible,
Much like the nights where those fictional thoughts creep up your throat and run down your eyes
Leaving you alone to your own demise
I despise how your own physical disappears with your mental as you, poison yourself with something demented but, yet, you swallow knowing of its effects on you.

As your mind soars afar yet you stay near as the wind brushes pass your ear, whispering the things you need to hear.
While hoping that it'd take you anywhere that would save you from the immortality that is the endless depth of your mind that seems to never diffuse into the  darkness of irrationality.
Yes the home,  of insanity that is cozier than your rationality that picks you apart, spurns you around and knocks you down into an abysmal bliss of  a reality that is split into two, with the question am I really me or am I  really you ?
I wanted to eat and eat and projectile ***** the aches of this soul into the oblivion that is thee unknown.

To all the space heaters out there
Your warmth is well appreciated,
The walls, chairs, and windows thank you
Winter nights are much cozier by your side
And while a fire place is much more desirable
There is something about a space heater that is beautifully honest,
There aren’t any booms or blasts
You know why you’re here
And you’re dam good at your job.

But I don’t know what to do with you
My hands fear you
Because I left my oven mitts with the last fire
That was reliable as a fire work
That burned uncontrollably
Only to go out.
But you and your steady hum
You and your tenderness
That warms a room before I even flick you on
You’ve made your way into the beat of my drum
My skips have a rhythm that is to the bone
You keep me warm even when I’m alone.
I realized that I unplugged you in the waxing summer
But you persistent little thing you,
You rhythmic beast
You never turned off
There wasn’t a cold moment
Even when you left I was well supplied with fleece
And fist fulls of fiery passion
The humdy-dum continued on.

August brought external fortification
My walls are thicker
Windows insulated and furnace much quicker
Yet October knocked
And I opened the door.
I don’t need to
These lungs have brought much more than a warm touch
These hands have begun to create again
I now forge my own cadence.
But like a composure's proud piece of work
Like a inversely synchronized symphony
Your humdy-dum dances with my pitter pat
I don’t need you, I want you
And what could be warmer than that?

You sit in a large hall.
On one wall,
windows climb all the way to the ceiling.
There is too much sunlight. It is bright,
and drafty, and always crowded.
But you can glance
up from the depths of words
and notice her, notice how the room
gets even brighter, notice how it gets
quieter and cozier and louder and smaller
and magnificently taller, and
you are terrified.
You smile in terror, and laugh in terror,
and wave in terror, and in terror
you watch her sit down,
and in terror you struggle through
a proof together,
a quietly terrified give and take.
You are content to wait in this moment
for the moment when you can give in
and accept what is true.
For the moment when you can stop
proving things.
You are afraid.
The sensation is not enough
to drain the warmth or color from the room
until she leaves it.

the family room is cozier
the couch is comfier
the tv is better
the floor is nicer
the lights are better

the walls are cold
the fireplace unused
and your photographs are gone

i miss you starting the fire
and adding cinnamon sticks to it
i miss you curling up on the couch
and watching movies
i miss you sitting at the bottom of the fireplace
and singing through laughter

the living room is colder
the walls are grey
and the burgundy is gone
the rug you picked out
is rolled up and in the garage
the storage unit you got from your mom
is upstairs
and used for something else
the piano is still there
but the family photos above it are not
i don't hear you play the piano at parties
or sit on the couch with your novels

the kitchen
the kitchen makes me saddest
your blue walls aggressively changed to brown
your coffee clock no longer works properly
your engraved kitchen sign was taken down
your organized cupboards are messy
the oven is different
the bread maker is in storage
your recipes have been moved
the radio is fuzzy
your CDs have an inch of dust
the table is stained
and i no longer see you at the table
with your cup of coffee and morning paper
i no longer see you cooking
or cleaning
or singing

the dining room
no longer has your candles
or has seen your beautifully decorated cakes
it no longer smells like your amazing food
your decorations have been taken down
and it no longer brings me happiness

i no longer see my mom
and this house was once hers
this house may be renovated for improvements
but now your marks have been covered and erased

i miss you
your presence
your laugh
your smile

you were here once
but now you are gone
we will all be here just once
and we think we have time
but we don't
you left too soon
but i know you are eternally happy now

this house was my home
and now it is a structure
with new items
you took home
you are my home
and i cannot wait to be home again

Steady as we go,
we live these patterns,
from one day on
to the next
and on.

How unburdened are my thoughts,
how free are my intents
while I know we are a constant.

Season’s first frost
and chilling air
somehow
make our whims
even cozier,
more whole.

Life blooms this December,
how anxious we are
to hold your tiny hands,
to hear your quiet
breath.

We ride these waves,
you and I and our
lovely daughter,
steady and sure
and full of hope.

Who tells the ivy, “Ascend the tall trees”?
a) Birds, for a cozier home in the boughs
b) Squirrels, who prefer some good footing for ease
c) Farmers, to clear off the ground for to plow

Do birds prefer maple or spruce for their homes?
a) Maple, whose leaves are like comfy green pillows
b) Spruce, for the needles groom feathers as combs
c) Birds take what they can, whether cacti or willows

Who built the wall between desert and marsh?
a) Sand, who feared water would turn it to mud
b) Water, who found frequent sandstorms too harsh
c) Delicate plains, fearing both drought and flood

Who piled sand into towering dunes?
a) The wind, who impresses soft trails in its wake
b) The long, tugging arms of the amorous moon
c) Sand did it alone, sans shovel, sans rake

Why does the moon still circle the earth?
a) To lure the seas to its pale, thirsty gulfs
b) It scans for a scar as the proof of its birth
c) To flirt with the love songs of clamorous wolves

vacancies for yellow jackets also available

alternately titled: eave'n roofs houses nidus

If ye dear reader find yourself
as an under appreciated
busy buddy buzzfeeding bee -
hive got just the solution.

When me and the misses
entered side door here
yesterday September 26th, 2021
where both of us live
within one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor Apartments,
we espied hexagon-shaped paper cells
constituting partially completed
reasonably priced
state of the art abode.

Nevertheless, these
myopic eyes of mine
identified when closeup
tiny sign advertising real estate
large enough to house me,
an average size bugaboo.

Yours truly itching to move
to cozier quarters
no matter facilities roofless
imposing long overdue necessity
to strip down trappings
to bare minimum.

Tricked out with state of the art wizardry
microscopic computer processing chips
adorn six identical geometric sides
indeed allowing, enabling and providing
global linkedin telecommunications
beamed in across
bajillion miles from deep space.

All kidding aside
Hymenoptera quite the builder
with innate abilities as their guide
neither prejudice, nor afflicted with pride.

Ever mindful of insects with diaphanous wings,
yours truly quite aware of pain regarding bee stings,
which commentary brings
me to recall the following incident when
quite so many years ago...

Mine eyes espied a glorious shade tree
on a recent brutally hazy,
hot and humid July summer day,
where below the gnarled roots
glazed occipital nerve did not see
yellow-jackets minding their own beeswax
when derriere i.e. did essay
until deux stingers re:
accessible bared skin
apiary members did flay
vulnerable hide bound
part of my right knee,

whereby toxin induced to feel
slightly queasy and appear ashen gray
yet possessed response
to stand up and immediately flee
as cohorts per hive stirred
with protruding stingers ready to lay
into another area of ripe human flesh
with consistency of brie
yet, no intent to be cheesy – nay
on the con tray or re:

only attempting to find good humor
to stave discomfort at bay
which quick thinking found me
summoning medicinal salve
to keep any potential swelling away
thus this mister mom trotted
into Belmont Hills lye bray r e
soaking damp washcloths
(I packed in plastic bag
to cool thyself) and pray

all the while mouthing expletives
more emphatic than oy vey
healing powers of self
would allow this chap to feel okay
enough until my then
thirteen-year-old youngest daughter
and tutor would sashay
out into the blistering heat
so we could be on our home bound way.

Dear mom and dad
I hope you remember me
As the happy kid
With a smile so bright
It could light up a city
Not as the teenager
That feels nothing but pain
And stares in a mirror
And wishes against her existence
Remember the laugh
The laugh filled with joy
Not the one that tries to cover
The sadness and hurt
Remember the eyes filled with life
Not the ones with tears
And a blade in hand
You did nothing more than love me
But it doesn't seem my brain
Wants to accept it
Because being in the ground
Is starting to seem cozier
Than the sheets that cover my bed

the things only human eyes can see

the faint every-color-yet-no-color glow
masking the sky
there is no clock in my room but there’s
one somewhere out here
buried in the ground maybe where I left
all my feelings to dig up on accident
another day

I thought there would be stars out but
they’re asleep already
I thought everyone was asleep by now
but that is never true
I wonder if they’re happy
the people rumbling past in their black
jeeps
or taking the freeway just for driving
nowhere

I wonder if they’ve ever gone outside in
the middle of the night because
everything frozen suddenly overheats
and then the freeze turns physical and
everything stops again
but they can’t help but wonder about
the next time it’ll thaw
unexpectedly
because that’s how feelings are
you think they’re gone, and they are
for the most part
but even if only a shell of something is
left
shells hurt to walk on barefoot
and I’m always barefoot
except right now
I put socks on because I knew it would
be cold
.
everything out here is quiet
muted
there’s still sound
and I’m still shivering, but from the cold
now instead of from the heat
and everything is numbed
except it’s not
it’s the opposite of numbing
it’s poking and prodding at the parts of
me that were asleep
and here, as tired as I was, I feel more
awake than ever before
and the ground is getting warmer
it’s because of my body heat but I want
to believe the earth is welcoming me

it’s pure life

it’s so fresh and new
even though it still seems like
everything is dead
but it’s the fourth month
so everything is really starting a new life
we’re a little behind because of the
lack of oxygen up here against this
mountain
but we can start a
New Life
no matter how late in the season
it’s 2:05 AM according to my dimmed
screen

I wish there wasn’t a screen
I wish we could hold everything with
our hands
touch it and feel it and truly know it
but everything is suppressed
like dipping a finger in a fish tank
and wanting more than anything to pick
up a golden shimmering life
and just feel it
but knowing that fish aren’t meant to be
held by human hands
just looked at by human eyes
but looking isn’t enough
human eyes are meant to see
see things that other eyes cannot see
but who looks at a fish and really sees it


it’s 2:09 AM but in my mind I picture the
sun
waiting
just for a little longer
it knows I’m not ready for another day
yet
I want it to be cold and fresh and clean

as long as it takes for my frozen limbs to
thaw out later
I’m wishing the cold to stay
it’s cozier when the warmth comes from
within
totally self sufficient
and yet unseparated from anything
surrounding
it’s not just
surrounding
it’s

threading its needle through me
shards of air puncturing holes in
my lungs
blades of grass poking up through my
ribcage
growing through my melted heart
I can’t decide what temperature to keep
it at
do I freeze it? a heart at 32 degrees? or
so motionless, maybe it’s at 0 kelvin
or should it be set on fire until it burns
black
neither option seems entirely healthy
so I think I’ll just stay here
in my blanket
shivering but never warmer
not thinking about anything but
obviously
thinking too much about everything

I get lost in my brain
I don’t even know what it looks like in
there
I would get lost if I went too deep
I might accidentally trip and unplug the
icebox my heart is kept in
would it melt or just go bad?
//
frozen fingers stretched out too long
I need a gentle touch
someone to tell these eyes they need to
close
they deserve to close
I haven’t taken care of them
they see as human eyes see
everything but not enough all at once
overloaded but unstimulated

but we choose to see

the world holds too much
sometimes the right choice is to stop
looking and just feel

it’s 2:22 AM
if the sun was my friend it would nap a
little longer behind the mountain
but it just does its job
I am glad
I need another day
a
New Life
I’m not a tree
but maybe I can bloom late with them
I can grow pink ruby blossoms
and they’ll open when they feel the sun
on their faces
their petals will open
and something beautiful will appear

or maybe just drop to the ground

but whatever happens
it’s me
and all this happens because I see the
beauty in the gray-no-color sky
with my eyes that see only how my eyes
can

perfectly

I think I will go inside now
my heart is warm now
I can stand the heat now
and I can stand the cold
but I would prefer to be warm now
I can rest my eyes
and get ready for another day
my New Life


.

The Fire Motel ~ No motel is cozier than the Fire Motel. Enjoy a weekend of hot, *****-*** at the Fire Motel. When you've had enough *****-***, simply shoot your *****, set fire to your room and drive away.

No motel is cozier than the Fire Motel. Enjoy a weekend of hot, *****-*** at the Fire Motel. When you've had enough *****-***, simply shoot your *****, set fire to your room and drive away.

No motel is cozier than the Fire Motel. Enjoy a weekend of hot, *****-*** at the Fire Motel. When you've had enough *****-***, simply shoot your *****, set fire to your room and drive away.

As summer comes to an end, we transition from light clothing to cozier, warmer wear. Labor Day presents the last chance to enjoy the mild warmth of summer's breeze. It's also a perfect occasion to visit Milligan Park for a day packed with entertainment.

Additionally, it's an excellent time to support local family-run stores in Crawfordsville, Indiana, by shopping for beautiful new additions to your autumn wardrobe.

Copyright 2024
all rights reserved

As summer comes to an end, we transition from light clothing to cozier, warmer wear. Labor Day presents the last chance to enjoy the mild warmth of summer's breeze. It's also a perfect occasion to visit Milligan Park for a day packed with entertainment.

Additionally, it's an excellent time to support local family-run stores in Crawfordsville, Indiana, by shopping for beautiful new additions to your autumn wardrobe.

Copyright 2024
all rights reserved

As summer comes to an end, we transition from light clothing to cozier, warmer wear. Labor Day presents the last chance to enjoy the mild warmth of summer's breeze. It's also a perfect occasion to visit Milligan Park for a day packed with entertainment.

Additionally, it's an excellent time to support local family-run stores in Crawfordsville, Indiana, by shopping for beautiful new additions to your autumn wardrobe.

Copyright 2024
all rights reserved

I heard a whisper, "Why return?—Heart still guarded."
Our fingers interlocked,
Sitting on a couch,
Headphones on,
Listening to the sweetest song.

Ancient and antique—both spirits together,
Writing verses of beyond,
Getting thoughts cozier in this windy storm.

A book on the side table,
With my scribbled wishes,
Engraving my thoughts on those empty pages.
Imagining the above scene, I wrote:
"When will this image become my experience?"

Up from the dream, it's just me and the storm.
Turning off the lamp,
I let this yet-to-happen memory—a cloudy form.