I navigated my
way along the
narrow path
ways  that had been
forever inbedded
by the
footsteps of the
young who've
cut
their path
throughout their
years,venturing as I
once did throughout
these ruins.
The narrow trails
from brave riders
who pedal their way
through the past
and in between all that
has been ruined
snaked all around
and in between
this broken
part of the
city.

I approached the
edge of the world with
caution even though
I feared not death.
I listened to the sound
of the Grand Pacifics anger
as it pounded away
at the end of the earth
a deaths
flight  below me.
Visions of the past
when I was that
braver soul
than I am now
crept up on me.
I took them in
then
put them away
in that dark
corner of my
mind where the
good times
are kept.
I laughed it
all off
and continued on.

I made my way
past the remnants
of all that was
once here before
the sea decided to
take it away.
The only signs left
now are just pieces
of crumbling
asphalt and
graffiti covered
ruins.
These cliffs and
these remnants
of a long ago
sunken part of
this city served
as the untamed
and mostly
unsupervised
playground of
my youth.
I played hard
as that young
adventurous
boy who
I miss so much.
Drank even
harder as a
stubborn  young
and unsure
man along these
cliffs.

I stopped and
took in the
tainted
air.
The smell of the fuel and the city
for now wiped away by
the rolling winds
coming in from the west.
The night was alive
with smaller forms of life,
crickets,barking dogs,
spatting feral cats and
the moans of a beaten man
seeking shelter in a hole
beneath a
broken slab of asphalt.
  The sage bush filled
the nightime air
with blessings.
The salt from
the sea almost
tickled
the nose.

Somewhere
in the
distance a ship
sounded its horn.
Sea lions
barked
in time with the
uneven ringing of
the ancient bell
on the ancient
Red buoy
as it rose and chimed
along with  
the swells
somewhere
in that sea
of darkness.

I left the broken
ruins behind
and made
my way toward
the Park
that had been
brilliantly positioned
along the
rim of
the world.
The memories
of happy times
struggled with
my sadness.
The images of better
times demanded
to be remembered.

I started across the
tear soaked grass
as I walked beneath
beautiful ancient Eucalyptus
and Sycamore trees.
Pine trees that
stood slumped over
like the ancient old
men they were.
I stopped half way
to the middle
as a one eyed calico feral
crossed my path .

I've foraged many
a happy memory
with old
forgotten friends
and long departed
lovers within this park.
Drank when the drinking
was done for fun,
and laughed that
care free laugh
I'll never hear again.
Fought a good mans
fight when the
odds were all
against me.
Evened  it out with
a tool made for killing.
Just one more memory
I now live with.

Now after so
many years
and so much
of what this
life has thrown
before me.
I now come
here only
at night,
alone.
When its only me
the feral cats
and the
thieving raccoon's.
Often times,
I'm comforted
by the
old worn
coat I refuse
to replace,
a cheap bottle
dressed in a brown
paper bag and
a mind still alive
with visions
of other times
than these.

I forget
those horrors
that still force
me out into
the night.
And take a lonely
pull
beneath the
Moons silent
glow.
I toast the night
and those
who dwell
within it.
I worked on the
bottle
while staring
into the
darkness at
nothing.

A smile breaks
free across my
tired face as I
 look to the moon
and realize.
This same sacred
Moon light
that shines upon me
is the same
distant glow
that I know
shines somewhere
upon her.

Acceptance to become a introvert forever,
Became a oath under my broken tongue.
Only spatting out short and simple words I can fluently produce..
" Its going to get better "
" You won't go through this long "
The therapist said,
As my body language feeds yes,
But my eyes screams no.
    " I don't ever want that feeling again ! "
Said my spirit in compliance with my eyes
I'd rather, be my own best friend than to make friends..
I'd rather, close my mouth about my fears than to be judged by all my peers
I'd rather, walk home by myself than to walk with someone else.
Not knowing I was walking towards my innocence to the B L I N D.
Step,
By,
Step..

I'd rather say no.
I made the decision to become trapped inside my own world.

©MH

(if i parentheses you)
this
(and)
that
(separate of the pillars that bowl past heavy tonsils
maybe it'd seem as though heaven was closer
and the nuzzle that triggers tiny slips and
flicks against the pulse of my fingers would come alive
behind large bulbs and very tiny eyes,
much too small to fully engulf mild realities wild
on the bottoms of tough poison, mulct philomaths'
raffishly spatting at loose tongues,
how dare they tell me)
this
(and)
that
(and never)
the other.
(if i parentheses you)
this
(and)
that
(would it count to you, dear scholar,
as a structured poem properly scrolling
down the braces of my spine?)

Coffee in the morning
Songs or simply talking
Laughter with occasional spatting
Writing, singing and lazing
Such is the bubble I’m living
Day in, day out
One I’m scared of losing
as the clock is ticking, loud
and demanding, the waves
keep crashing, while I
will carry on dreaming
'til the cuckoo sounds...

On 3/2/2016 at approximately 10:15 a.m. I was threatened by Bryan Pearsall as I was exiting the building where I reside. He made threats to me which contained language that no one should have to hear. I ignored his threats and continued on my daily routine. I proceeded to the 7-11 to purchase a cup of coffee. As I was walking out of the 7-11 into the parking lot Mr. Pearsall again approached me, making threatening remarks. I then noticed a police officer on State Street. I asked the police officer for assistance in this matter and he (the officer that was not wearing a name tag) refused to offer any help. I continued on to Main St. Walking down Camden Street I noticed another police officer on the other side of Main Street. His car was parked on Camden St blocking off traffic to Camden St. as there was construction going on that day. When I shouted out the Suspects name to confront him. The Suspect Bryan Pearsall then entered the Gateway School to hide an opened container of alcohol. The police officer who also was unidentifiable due to not displaying his name tag exclaimed "I'm not getting involved" and went in to his patrol car slamming the driver's side door. I then proceeded to enter the Johnson Public Library. I then used the computer's word processor to type up an affidavit. About twenty minutes later. The police officer that was blocking off Camden Street entered the library. He said that "that guy you tried to turn in is a cop. Watch what you say to cops"! I replied with "If he's a cop then I'm Corporal Christ! I'm pretty sure the police department wouldn't hire a drunken ******. "Oh" the unidentified officer continued "how do know THAT?" "Because he's lived across the hall from me for the past five years and I know from the drinking and puking and stupor that he is in fact a drunk ******." I retorted "Well, he's a cop" the officer replied, and then left the building. About a minute later, the suspect Bryan Pearsall entered the JPL. He stood about eight feet from me and stated that he was a cop. The woman that runs the circulation dept. overheard him and stated "Bryan Pearsall you get over here you ain't no cop and that officer is in trouble." (I thank the stars for honest people like Ellen.) After   I typed up my report, I headed towards the Hackensack Police Department. At that time I felt a little hungry and stopped for a late breakfast at the lucheonette. As soon as I finished eating I went to the front desk of the HPD to turn in my report. Not only did the Desk Seargent spat on me, he stated that he was not interested in helping scuzbags and continued spatting on me. I think now that I have no other choice but to take the law into my own hands. If the law won't help me, there is always the old fashion way to receive JUSTICE.

In Defense of Iambic Pentameter

For Lori Jones McCaffery,
who was spatting with iambic pentameter
but loves it anyway

via HelloPoetry

Oh, no! Pentameter is not a trap -
Pentameter is - freedom’s wings, aloft
And golden in the morning sun, and free
It lifts our dreams into the skies, and sings

Pentameter is language’s strong heart
Its rhythm shapes our fondest hopes, and sends
Each one upon a pilgrimage of truth
To happiness enthroned at journey’s end

Besides all that, pentameter
Helps calm giddy tetrameter!

I like the rain, because

It is a symphony when it falls
Sharing sympathy with the dry of the earth
All of me is quiet and I imagine, the
Grass in my backyard as a dewy dark green
Waving as the water hits each blade

I forget about the man who is
Sitting on a couch in the next room,
In a dark room, illuminated
By a flashing tv screen

Not all mothers make potato salad
Or drink lattes with soy milk and sugar-free syrup

Some even buy their potato salad from
The store

we all want to be able to open
Ourselves for someone freely

The sound of love kissing is
The spatting
Of rainfall in the backyard,
Hitting the blades
The water penetrates the grass
And the soil is connected to the sky
There is a heart beat in the tiny roots
Like when two people attend
The last movie showing on a cold
Saturday night, and you
are one of them, and you wrap yourself
Into the other person
Now he snores, competing
With the commercials late night
Television brings to his slumber,
I come back to my room


When the rain stops
Your eyes meet forever

The kind of kisses that uncover secrets

Are the kinds of water that fall on the grass

In your backyard

I feel it in my bones, torso, and toes.
Every beep, buzz, or text tone--
sends me over the edge,
like flipping over a roller coaster.
There's this spark,
I can feel it in the dark.
When you're not even near
only a mere 4,000 miles
over the North Atlantic Ocean.
I've seen you in my dreams,
mimicking realitity,
stuck in this virtuality state,
dreading mornings fate.
Tell me why the moon
can't draw the sea,
closer to me.
So that you, too could see
this total eclipse
that's tight in my chest.
How it taunts my heart,
the pitter patter,
spatting, pulsing behind a wall.
I haven't found the key
though this feeling is raw.
Your lips haven't caressed mine, yet.
This will change once we have met.
Dance with me all night,
let's live forever under the night sky.
Sharing secrets of our own,
on my neck,
I feel your moan.
If you stay, or leave,
promise to take me with you.
Back to London, and smoke ****
on the balcony.
Catching trains instead of sleep,
and walk on broken bricks,
taking pics of street art,
have coffee after dark,
closer to 3AM.
Because my heart knew before my head,
that I've always loved you instead.

Reclining on a cliff
In the twilight gloom,
I beheld a different world;
Where earthly sufferings can't reach.
The blue expanses expended non-ceasingly.
The waves glittered,
And seemed to be frocking in joy.
A divine voice was chanting,as if
Spatting out what I never heard.
  Then-
Was it or I who felt it
Hey,the waves seemed to make fun of me!
The waves with it's every ripple
Seemed to have an air of mockery!
Was I an alein among them?
Or the vice versa?