the older I get —
the more smiles I see
the more frowns I disregard —
the more I grow
to appreciate
resting bitch face
and the people
I’ve known who’ve sported
it not being their choice
but simply their face —
and all the times I never should have said a thing.
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Advice
When someone
somewhere
or something
is making you
tired and mean
sluggish or obscene
pale, green, or just
downright dead inside
it’s more than a sign
to seek,
alternative grass
that is in fact
greener
in times like these.
Write. With. Fire.
Fill your life
with the people
who will fill your prose
with fire.
I told you once, I tell myself again —
Write.
With.
Fire.
It was a good day
The palm trees sounded like palm trees
and the sun was in his eyes,
there really wasn’t all that much else to say.
So he kept reading his book about nothing
and fiddled with his silly poem’s,
until the sun dipped behind the rooftop.
With sleep in her eyes, she lifted her head, and said,
it was a good day…and he agreed.
It was a good day.
I’ll be a mourning dove
Every thought is vital, so while I find myself
on the verge of another vital breakdown,
at least this time I’m in control,
creatively speaking,
so that’s got to count for something.
If not, I’ll be pushing daisies by morning,
or at least I’ll be a mourning dove, lying in their virtue.
To taste a little death
To taste
a little
death
once in a while
is essential
really,
for it gives
us
the hunger
to live
again.
It
doesn’t always
taste that good
death, in fact
it tastes
pretty sour
most times,
but if a pucker
is worth
a thousand lives
I’ll save mine
for you, if you’ll
save a bite for mine.
more or less.
How long does it take to change?
A second
A minute
An hour
A day
A week
Two weeks
A month
Or six?
A year
A decade
A year
Or six
A month
Two weeks
A week
A day
An hour
A minute?
A second.
It takes as much time as it does to stay put,
more or less.
the scenic route!
People always look confused when they ask what I am doing. So I look confused back, smiling, and say, I’m taking the scenic route!
People are more like their God than they think, always looking down at everyone else, wondering what it’s like to live.
I’ll pray for you, they say sometimes. Creation is a messy thing. What’s the difference between prayer and prey?
For now, I guess I’ll be their prey to tell the difference. And when my time comes, confused I will not look, knowing I’ve seen the light.
A light which does not shine but rather illuminates the lonesome weathered Rockies, or Cutlers bountiful Coast, and all those miles of wheat fields traveled upon a harvest moon.
Phases of the moon
The sun is up again
as if to say,
I told you so dummy!
It is I, not the moon
whom shines its rays.
And wouldn’t you know
the moon stood still,
I’ll tell you a secret,
he said. We work best
together, my phases and all
are just too much for her
sometimes. So I’ve settled
for shadow puppets. Look!
Our love it is there,
on the dark side.
a deer in headlights
Some days
staring into space
is all
a boy can do.
Like a deer in headlights
an accident waiting to happen.
Others
the act
is a blinding
waste of time.
The difference is clear as night.
It can go either way.
Words Of An Average White Male 