nubthousands of wasted wordsand still no poems
lovemy joy in you was short livedmy sorrow everlasting
the open roadthe road beckonsand I will answerI will ride Highway 65until my gas money gives outand leave my tired Buickin a soft ditch with the kudzuI'll walk until I finda place that touches me a soft patch of cool grasswith a view of the whole big sky a quiet placewhere I can lay myself downand no longer weepwith wearinessthe stars will shine downfrom the sea of nightand I'll smile whenI close my eyesknowing I can nowrun onforever
Tank Away 11The winter solsticehas passed. Winter nights will shorten,hearts warming with hope.And from the soft, hushed darkness,a new sun begins to rise.
running errandsit's not theeggs or milkor breadthat I'm afterit's the soundlonelyis quietand whenthe silencescreamsI mustfill itwithother people'snoise
dreamerhe's goneever searching forgreener pasturesand she droopslike a flowerin the rainwaiting againfor hisreturn
incalculablehe's good to mewe eat at nice placesand never arguehe's gentle in bedbut he isn't youwe lived onpeanut butter,ramen noodlesand the world fadedwhen you cameinto viewdisappeared utterlywhen you took mein your handshe loves meyou almost killedme with your leavingbut if you roared backinto my world tomorrowhe'd be forgotten bythe time we reachedthe highway
lightlesssince you've goneyour memory lay upon my worldlike a shadow across the suna point of impenetrable darknessfor which there isno remedy
revenantsome nights,dreams aren't enoughwhen the acheruns deep,I need more thanremembered embraces,imagined trysts,more than hopesof tomorrow, next week,next yearI want the truthof your bulkbeside me whenI turnin the dark,the realityof warm skinnot my own,the unknowingof lonelybut you're not here(and no one else will do)so I willtoss and turnin the cold armsof my dreamingonce more
A Clockwork of ConsistencyA Clockwork of Consistency 9/23/14He sat alone on a lonely bench.Green paint faded and chipped-weathered by the salty Gulf of Mexico.It had been there - a silentwatcher of the sea for as longas he could remember.He had made a habit of goinghere early to greet the sunand start the day right -with a small prayer and a coffee.He had done this for three straightyears - a creature of routine.It gave him comfort and peace.A serenity he was never able toduplicate anywhere else.He felt less alone with thisbench and the rising sun ashis stable and reliable friends.Sometimes a tear would form in his eyewhen the beauty was too much.On this particular morning he was so lostin his thoughts and so entrancedby the vivid colors before him thathe barely registered her - sittingon the bench beside him.How long had she been there?How long would she stay?"Sunrises leave me in awe.Do you not agree?" shequietly asked as she turned to him.He had no words to say so henodd
darling, darling. i.you were in mydreams again,darling. i felt you in mybones again,d a r l i n g, and when i awoke i thoughtthat it wasyears ago.and you were yelling andscreaming andasking me where you were, whereyou had been, the worst partwas that icouldn't answer you. in allof your anger,you were still the one personwhose name stung mythroat.ii.you were in myhead again,darling, andpart of me wishes that youhadn't left.my mother told me that peoplewould often break your heartif you loved them toomuch, so i guess that justmaybethis is my fault afterall.iii.but now i am highagain andthinking of last winter and howi spent itwith you, and how i amkind ofdoing it again thisyear.
highschool, II parts.i.i walked throughthese doorswith bright eyes and aneager heart.that was four yearsago; inthe months spent trapped betweenwhite walls andcat calls, closed windows andtorn skinned girls, i have learned that iam nothing but a mothunable to findthe flame.ii.it is1:46 p.m and idon't need a cigarette buti sure as hellwant one.these kids are cryingand even worse,they're fucking d y i n g-the only thing they'll getin their gravesis the failed test that somehowmeant more to the worldthan they did.
another metaphore for someone i once knew.Jesse Owenswas a fast boy witheven quickereyes.this is nothis name, but i seeJesse Owens, thatfamous boy, hiding inthe crevices ofmy old friend's body ashe ranfrom this hellish town.when the sun rosehis limbs were frosted gold, andwhen it sethe always faltered- just for asecond, a briefmoment in time, but neverenough to make himturn back;i wonder if he willever regret it, if he will everhate his running shoesand runningheart.
FragmentI lie to saythis tooshall passwhen nothingstaysin humangrasp......that famousplacecalled memory -my friend,do you stillthink of me?You gave mecouragewhen I hadnoneand quietgracewhen daywas done.You stretchedyour armsin finalpainand weheld ontill mercycame.Oh, tell meof eternallightwhen I liethinkingin thenight...when I liedreamingin thenight...
The DoubterThe DoubterOne Day Someone Will Come To Doubt You.He Will Insist!You Gonna Hate Him For This,If You Don't Love Him.Don't Worry,He Already Loves You,He Just Doesn't Know It Yet.He Will Know, When He Meets You.For You I Don't Know More,You Gonna Hate Him,If You Don't Love Him.
SucculentLike a fig ripened in thesoft summer sunplucked by rough,unchurched hands,I find my sweetness eatenfrom the inside outuntil theres nothing leftbut skin.