The shucks of it is,                                                  The shucks of it is,
You don't control me anymore,                            If you didn't want,
You don't dictate my actions.                               People to hear the,
So if I go to a friend,                                               Way you *******,
To vent,                                                                    Me up than you,
You don't get to call it bad mouthing.                 Should've thought,
The shucks of it is,                                                  Shuck through,
I'm not telling tales,                                                I'm sorry but the,
Just the truth.                                                           Truth is truth and,
I am my own man,                                                  It won't be silenced,
And you have a new man,                                    Maybe your new,
So get out of here.                                                  Boy will fall for it,
MY poetry is my outlet,                                        But you've broken,
So if I write about what you did,                        Me so much already,
You don't get to tell me to stop.                           I won't change more.

                                 When education is not liberating
                                     The dream of the oppressed
                                      Is to become the oppressor

Unfortunately I am liberated and born anew so your threats aren't going to throw me askew I won't say I would change how things have been between us because there was good and we had fun but I think it'd be better if you stopped saying you can be there for me if I deleted my Hotmail account if you stopped emailing me because you don't want drama if I stopped responding because I want to but I don't know why I don't stop if you just focused on your new relationship instead of giving a shuck about me if I just let go of my grudges instead of being so mad at you for hurting me so much,

If the world was simple
                                                                                       If we lived in truth
If things were black and white

      If everyone knew where they were meant to be from the start

If I never wanted love                                        If I never deserved love

Living Sadness in a world that doesn’t stop moving,
Just because you’re sad

Forgiveness on the tip of the tongue

The strange intimacy of unspoken truths
Of sacred silence
Of quiet, forbidden longing  

The mad unfurling of a blueish love-
A love somewhere between earth and sky
Friend and Foe
Flame and ash and all that burns

Folding a corner
Turning a page
Finishing a book
Keeping it on the shelf
Forever,  
Even if just for the memory

These are the things,
The things that make me think of you.

You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.

A gift to make my day
Grace me with your presence
Then take it all away

Well, if that's all you can do
Then you can keep it
Because I've dealt with so much worse
Than just your ******* silent treatment

Drifting in the shade
of Hello Poetry's long lost grave
In archive (a kingdom's history)
the past that has been made

Stepping on the bleached out bones
The pale parade of long dead dreams

Crunching fragments of sentenced themes
burning books , poems stuffed inside the reams

Epitaphs to their honor
2010 comments to poets
Vickey , Fix , and O'Connor

Poems to praise lost in time
I hold in hand the words that bind

Great poems whose eyes
were never shed
In a broken aspiration
now lay dead

Cruch , crunch ,
the landscape littered in 2012
Oh what sacred feelings
not forthwith

Here ! lay my poems
to rest here
In 2014 my poems
of yesteryear

Van Gogh
Intensity
  Anxiety