Each moment so meant
Each particle tickles
Soothing, yet chilling
Humbling, yet exhilarating
In this bliss I find contentment
And once again bask in my ability to understand that it is all so meant
Minty and cool
The breeze blows you this way and that way
Sway each day just to end up the same
Why do we make this some sort of a game we play?
Some sort of dream we convey
In the sea of what could be
I found you
You found me
The joy to be in this see
Oh the significance
The sign if I can see
Through all the in betweens that cloud my mind
I begin to want to fall behind
But truly I am getting ahead
I am falling into each thought, each sense, and each interaction
It is a contraction
A fraction of all, a piece to this maze that leads you to peace
To beneath your own skin, your own life, to him
To her and to us
It is all we, can’t you see
We get up and we go
Just to fold into no
We breathe in through our knows
And let go of our holds
No we can be free
Without gages, or wages, or ages
We just are
It is not far
It is right here, right now
If only you will let it
No more excuses, abuses, reuses, and unsureness
Just let it go
You reap what you sow
Think of your actions, your thoughts, and your words
They are all you have got to express how you feel
To make it all real
You are thought
You are dreams
You are sunbeams
You are infinite love and light
You are feel
It is surreal, this dreamboat we float on
It tips over and we scatter, it wrecks and we shatter
All this matter is not what matters
It comes and it goes
No need to attach or latch, it will all go, just as it came
It’s the same
This cycle is recycled and trialed
Only leading us to denial
It is time to take responsibility for what we emit
And admit and just quit the deceit
The scurrying and worrying
Just stop
Do it now
Breathe and perceive in your own way and just play
It’s okay
Do it now
Don’t put it off because you are too busy or too tired
Tomorrow I will stop
What if there is no tomorrow
Living just to borrow, existing in your own sorrow
Free yourself from yourself
You are beautiful
If you cannot believe that, then you know you are youtifull
So be youtifull, beyoutifull
It is all you have to do, is be you, exactly as you are
We are all just apiece to this puzzle
All completing each other
We are all of all
All love all!

Escapism Dream
Escapism dream
Heart crushed symphony
Strings of sound tied together by hope
This expression our only weapon to expose
All this oppression when we don’t even know the root
Our only savior each others’ demise
Oh my eyes to my soul cannot take this any longer
Spending our daze
In an oblivion maze
This haze
It pulls me into the unknown
A pool of uncertainty
All luring we
This wave
We came in on and shattered on the sure
Always needing more
Our hearts pour out of places unknown
Separation overgrown
Fumbling forward we gracefully gasp
As they take off their masks
Feeled up to our seal, time to reveal and re-feel
This ever-living ghost of what once was
Creeps through my new and leaves only fuzz
This dream quilt unraveling
The patches detaching
Yet the thread remains, it was love all along
Always sing our dream song

To the girl who sits behind me
On the city bus everyday:
I know they probably say
With your cat-eye and your beehive
That you look like you belong
Way back in the day
But I think you look beautiful,
Even more so yesterday,
When you walked onto the bus
with your hair down wearing tear-stains.
I think you looked best today,
With a messy bun and no makeup
Listening to a song
And laughing
While I tried not to smile

To the guy who wrote the poem for me yesterday:
I know you must work hard,
You come here at six in the morning everyday,
And I don’t know why
But when I look your way I feel safe.
I know you probably hear
That you should take a break
But I know what it’s like
To work hard
Because there’s not another way.
And I know they probably say
With your tattoos and your gages
You don’t look your age
And you shouldn’t have gotten the job,
But I think you look best
At five in the morning
When you’ve just woken up
And you’re sipping coffee
While we wait for the bus
And your hair’s all messy
And your tattoos catch my eye
And I try to read them,
But I don’t want to pry

To the girl who replied to my poem yesterday:
You can read my tattoos
Any time you like
And I think you look best
At six in the morning
When your eyes shine bright
And you sip your coffee
And don’t hide your delight
I like the way
You bite your lip
When you read a book
Or you’re thinking
Or bored,
It drives me crazy
How come we never talk?
Maybe one day,
Instead of poems at bus stops
We could go for a walk.
Well, I have to get off.
Your stop’s in a minute,
Try not to forget it.

To the guy who writes me poems at bus stops:
I feel like I know you better everyday,
But it’s really weird,
Because I don’t know your name
And you don’t know mine,
Which I think is fine,
Because if this turned
Into anything other
Than poems
At bus stops,
I’d probably scare you away
Like everybody else.
Maybe we should stop,
Before we both get hurt.
Signed tearfully,
The girl in the seat behind you

To the girl who told me to go away:
You wouldn’t scare me away,
Not yesterday,
Not today,
Not ever.
Please don’t make me leave
Like everybody else.
Signed hopefully,
The guy who writes poems at bus stops

To the guy who writes poems at bus stops:
My name’s Haley
And sometimes I close my eyes
And wonder what they call you.
I take pictures everyday
And that’s why I’m here at five
Or maybe six
Every morning
To capture the perfect sunrise.
Here’s the picture I got
Yesterday, just in case
You wanted to see.

To Haley,
Who gets up early
To capture sunrises:
My name’s Ryan and
I spend all day crunching numbers,
Praying they don’t crunch back.
The picture was beautiful
And I though that maybe
One day
We could meet for coffee
And turn this into something
More than poems
At bus stops.

To Ryan, the number-cruncher
Who stole my heart:
I’d love to go for coffee
And we can laugh while we talk,
Maybe I can even show you
My favorite place
In Central Park
And we can go for a walk.

Dearest Haley,
Who captures sunrises
And stole my heart:
I can’t believe it’s been
A year since we began
With poems at bus stops
And coffee while we
Watched rain drops and talked about us.
I know this may be too soon,
I pray you don’t think me a fool,
To believe a number-cruncher
And sunrise-capturer
Could have a happily ever after.
But what do you say
We give it a shot
And spend the rest of our lives
Telling our kids
About how a number-cruncher
And a sunrise-capturer
Had a fairytale wedding
And are living their
Happily ever after.

III

Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
The chrism is on thine head,—on mine, the dew,—
And Death must dig the level where these agree.

I fell for you, now I’m broken
spending hours on white tiled floors
digging ragged nails into my crooked spine
creating beautiful blacks and blues
that feel better than you ever did

now I brave the streets by myself
catcalls from old truckers pierce through the night
and follow me like bumblebees
I soak them up like a puppy in sunlight because
they sound better than you ever did

my twenty dollar mascara
is now dripping off my sullen cheeks
but, you know, these dark circles really bring out my eyes
and I think my chewed up knuckles and frizzy hair
look better than you ever did

whiskey dances on my hot breath
mixed with sour diesel and blueberry skunk
air freshener, breath mints and windows don’t help
but I don’t care because these weapons of mine
smell better than you ever did

the boy with tattoos and gages
feeds me slurred compliments like butter on bread
I’m breathing in his three dollar cologne
and his cigarette stained tongue down my throat
tastes better than you ever did

Green light send call
hands free(from the wheel)
left turn check text
***! (tires squeal)

beep beep
honk honk
ring ring ring

right turn send text
check gages(on the phone)
stop sign look down
you wreck(dial tone)

Quand Don Juan descendit vers l'onde souterraine
Et lorsqu'il eut donné son obole à Charon,
Un sombre mendiant, l'oeil fier comme Antisthène,
D'un bras vengeur et fort saisit chaque aviron.

Montrant leurs seins pendants et leurs robes ouvertes,
Des femmes se tordaient sous le noir firmament,
Et, comme un grand troupeau de victimes offertes,
Derrière lui traînaient un long mugissement.

Sganarelle en riant lui réclamait ses gages,
Tandis que Don Luis avec un doigt tremblant
Montrait à tous les morts errant sur les rivages
Le fils audacieux qui railla son front blanc.

Frissonnant sous son deuil, la chaste et maigre Elvire,
Près de l'époux perfide et qui fut son amant,
Semblait lui réclamer un suprême sourire
Où brillât la douceur de son premier serment.

Tout droit dans son armure, un grand homme de pierre
Se tenait à la barre et coupait le flot noir,
Mais le calme héros, courbé sur sa rapière,
Regardait le sillage et ne daignait rien voir.

Letting wings
Tell the story...
Marvel at a sunshine's keep
When the bravery of simple and worldly...

Suppose a charity of kind
Vainer though kept, to these we mind
A house of resolve, a yearning time
To remind even the littlest hopes to find

Gages of wan, wonder in the eye?
Overt to liberty, the talk of somewhere
Favored for sense, surmisal in the lie
Of conscience to have, the least's we fare

Cope, sincerity, and honor
To tell a tale of such, might's we enthuse
Is a labor of love, the dread in songs and heirs
To come, with the ides of repose, we never lose

Without a voice to fly
A hap and demand of sustained go
Through the moments deed, a showing of cause all the while
Realms to its survival, the role of strength to hold...

A broken promise?
A seclusion of rights, to word and envy of a letter
Seen in the needs of virtue, we claim are a host of what sigh's
A means to an end, that has saved even a little more than better