Some days
it feels
like
nobody cares
and then
out of nowhere
a
friend
gifts you
a space pen,
and, “yes Jerry,”
it writes upside down.
Monthly Archives: April 2017
Life awake.
Dream,
nobody is stopping
you
from dreaming,
just
remember
who
to blame
when
the dream dies
and
life
goes on,
like it always does.
Vital Weeds.
When you start to look
into other people’s lives
you start to see
whose lives are worth
looking into, and sort of
weed out those
you dabbled in, that turned out
to be nothing more
than forgettable,
nothing more than
vital weeds.
Not so fiction.
Not
every
person
is meant
to
stay
in your life
forever,
but
that doesn’t mean
you can’t tell
their
story,
it doesn’t mean
they’re
not
a part of yours,
so be a dear
and change a name or two,
just don’t
spoil
the end —
they’ll know if you do.
This is me trying to be o.k.
I am trying to be o.k.
Thinking about young souls who’ve past.
Contemplating Cancer’s reasons.
Sometimes hearts just stop.
This is me, trying to be o.k.
Not that young anymore.
Grey hair no longer a curse,
but more of a blessing – there is beauty in age.
For now, I am o.k.
As for tomorrow, history
seems to shrug it’s shoulders
leaving me out of the loop.
And I’m o.k. with that.
This is me trying to be o.k.
The trouble with book lovers.
Two book lovers
sit together
on the subway
reading
alone.
Do they
have
anything
much to say
to one another?
Or
is
the story
they’re reading
better?
Probably not.
I bit my tongue writing this crap.
The
deeper
you try
to be,
the
more
shallow
you become.
Do you see what I mean.
Good riddance.
Can you hear me now?
Yes,
now that we have stopped talking.
Good.
Yes.
Things have never been so good.
Conversations with myself.
I try to hang loose
but always end up
twisted, like a
damp dish towel.
Stained and tattered.
Are we really back here again?
Rinse and repeat.
Haven’t you learned anything yet?
Rinse and repeat.
I bet you like it this way, don’t you?
It’s quieter here…shh!
With voices in your head? You’re too easy.
It’s alright if you sweat, just
don’t let them see you turn.
Are we really back here again?
Metaphorically speaking,
we never actually left.
Places just become new places.
People get replaced by other people.
Lies become fiction.
Truth becomes fantasy.
Like a damp dish towel,
twisting facts
until
they hang loose.
War and Politics.
“You’re a liar.”
“No, you’re a liar.”
“I know you are but what am I?”
“Real mature, Dick!”
“Can’t we just play War already…”
“Wow! You really are a Dick.”
“What?”
“We almost had them fooled, jerk.”
“I know you are but what am I.”
Words Of An Average White Male 