•May 10, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I remember how you trembled, how you shook for safe passage of the one you love,
I remember how you panicked at the thought of loss,
And I remember how you left me behind, time and time again,
I spoke to you as if speaking to a friend,
Trying to respell my hell to make it sound more comforting,
I didn’t want you worried and it seems for once there is excess in my success,
I spoke to a statue today, held it’s hand,
It’s waters were as placid as imagination would allow,
And its stone as cold as my bones.

Seeing is Believing

•May 10, 2015 • Leave a Comment

There are mothers of many and mothers of few and childless mothers that bear no fruit,
Every last one has but one gift to give and all that they ask is that you love while you live,
I know I believe love at first sight is real because when I opened my eyes it was all I could feel,
Even an infant can comprehend love,
The feeling of warmth from the gaze above as she holds you with arms like wings of a dove,
No matter how far you crawled away in your life,
Or how desperately you want to give up tonight,
If you think that love is no longer a friend,
Call your mother,
she’s the one who’ll make you believe in love again.

Which, I get that…

•May 4, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I didn’t feel guilty till I heard the door close,
Had all day to put that away and be distracted by bigger better things, small scale accomplishments,
But I knew you’d be home eventually,
In a fuck you place with a fuck you face you stomped the steps straight to your room and donned those ice packs you wear on your shoulders when I have a bad day,
Which I get that…
I’m not trying to hurt anyone here,
My complications got more complicated than I anticipated and then I managed to complicate matters further,
I spent the whole day running away from I’m sorry,
I don’t like to burden anyone, least of all a friend,
I wasn’t planning any of this, my legs are tired,
sometimes, things…just work out for the worst

•April 25, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Shadows are gaining strength, contrast defines the edges,
Sun comes ’round like it always does, heating up dewdrops on yawning blades of grass,
When the sweet smells of a perfect spring morning hit me, a tear disappears into the dew,
Knowing that before the sun even spreads her wings,
I’ve decided she’s going to fly alone,
She knows the way, just beginning to take her time,
To slow down and see the trees, her friends with open arms, budded up and waving hello,
Singing songs in the breeze you gotta hear to believe,
Take note of the date,
Tear out the page of the calendar,
Quietly place it in a scrapbook called Regrets,
Put it back on the shelf knowing that tomorrow is just another page.

•April 25, 2015 • Leave a Comment

You’re so much prettier in person than in pictures,
Something kind of warm, and a whole lot of glowing,
I’m not too surprised that cold slick glass lacks the skills needed to pick up on that,
Have you ever seen a sunrise walk into a room?
I suppose not, that’s a shame, try it sometime, you can make it a game,
How many times does the sun have to rise for me to fall and get another skinned knee?
I saw that star fade away one day, watched it all through cold slick glass,
I’m really glad that glass is good for that,
I wouldn’t want to see you turn your lights off,
Not in person, not even for a second.

•April 25, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Three o’clock and I’m tick tocking watching the clock click by,
Sleep is a dream and my new old friend is looking to chat while time flies once again,
OK then, speak to me, if you don’t then I know that the silent speeches won’t end,
He’s telling me about the bills I owe, but only the ones that won’t get paid,
He rarely speaks of easy dealings or decisions easily made,
You’ll forget those until it’s too late,
He’s telling me of all the reasons, the who’s, the what’s, the why’s, the why’s, the why’s,
Doesn’t mention ways to change,
Or any of the good things that I think seem strange, Like how I finally found tears because of a movie scene,
Or how the waters well up from poetry,
Or the sky, or my guitar lying next to me,
Her shape sure makes me think of things I’d rather see in her place,
She likes to cry, sometimes, for me,
I caress the curves, pull her closer, listen to to her heart sing,
Put my hands on all her right places, sounding harmonies with her heartstrings,
Despite the battle hymns and war drums that make me march relentlessly,
When I place hands on those who sing, I try to do so gently,
But I just pushed her to the edge of the bed for tonight,
There isn’t any gentleness inside me now,
Just the drums, the hymns, and the fight.

•April 24, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Trees are in bloom down at the square,
I’d really love to write what they look like,
I really don’t know, I’m not there,
No reason for me to be,
No someone to go see,
No nowhere to go be,
In the shadow of the steeple is where you’ll find me all the way up to the top, floor three,
With a window to a shingle sky and breathtaking views of flashing horizons,
No sunsets or rises, people passing by, no cars, no surprises,
Sometimes I see a hawk pass, gliding, and I wonder how far away from home he too has flown,
And if he thinks of leaving it behind,
To be a brand new bird in a brand new sky,
Or of he’s a little bit more like me,
And he’s just to afraid to truly fly,
Glimpse a little daydream of the sights he may have seen,
I wonder if he’s perched himself on a tree down at the square,
I think the trees are in bloom down there,
I’d love to tell you what they look like


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