I sit, and read:
—”Comparisons are odious.”—
sipping, my tea
with birds feeling studious.
It’s calm.
I am happy.
Counting my blessings,
one page at a time.
Home » Posts tagged 'words' (Page 45)
Tag Archives: words
skull and crossbones
At the end of the race
make em say:
to hell with these eyes they’ve seen too much
this tongue is all rotten with tasteless buds
what ears are these they’ve heard enough
and liver? What gall you, it’s all washed up!
His sole’s so worn, all callus and rough
even nail beds torn up from climbing so much
lips like a canyon, dried, cracked and his blood
it’s cheaper than whiskey, diluted with love!
To hell with his soul, heaven’s full and what?
His brain, are you mad? It’s pondered enough.
What use is this flesh, it’s ancient as stone
he’s breathed his last breath, he’s skull and crossbones!
together in the sun
Perhaps we could each
bring blankets to the park
sit far enough apart
so that our shadows can lie
together in the sun
—pure and untouched—
like before we knew
each other’s name.
Tell me a story
There’s a part of me
that see’s this all clearly
like a child standing in a crowd
there’s really only one way out.
What is it that you see
it’s fine to disagree
why if the world’s mine oyster please
forgive me for the lack of belief.
I had this faith in you
I thought you had it too
how many smiles does it take to show
the unhappiness we grew to know.
Do you take this hand
would you understand
lighting matches just to prove you could
did it ever do you any good?
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
There’s a part of you
engrained in me now
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit
it’s a piece I won’t ever regret.
So what’s the point of these prose
and insecurity poems
like a fish needs water to breathe
I guess it really isn’t up to me.
If this is just a passing feeling
I’ll agree to disagree then
watch the sun rise and fall once more
a couple hours then I’ll start the chore.
You see I know my problems
it’s not up to you to solve them
if I go out the Hemingway
like Kerouac first I’ll have my say so
Tell me a story, one without love, cause I’ve taken you for granted so many times—c’mon.
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
Juliet
She was warm and aware
Her bright eyes full of care
By the moon she was fair
as light danced through her hair
Like a sound, Juliet
she spoke wise with regret
Where I found it quite strange
by the light steady rain
Where footprints should have been
she had gone with the wind
While I lay awoken
by the rays of her infinite light
sinking stones
He loved her still
she had to go.
For if she stayed
he’d never know.
Though deep down still
like sinking stones
there lie the words
lost long ago.
savior
though your spirit
may change
and your smile
may waver
I knew you long before
and
you are your own savior
Seasons Change
I found you in the dead of winter
We grew as one in the light of spring
Our passion climbed in the heat of summer
And we fell like lovers on autumns leaves
a loneliness grave.
I spared him a quarter
alone where he stood
next to the Madonna
as if she’d do him good.
He gave me a blessing
gentle and aware
the wind it was violent
messing both our hair.
While Girl Scouts are selling
cookies for the troop
a week ago maybe
someone died on that stoop.
But don’t tell their mothers
as if they would care
no you don’t get the badge unless
you’ve sold your soul there.
My eyes they grow weary
still I can’t look away
at the hummingbird dancing
a loneliness grave,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
At the cafe I buy coffee
either iced or cold brew
the barista he tells me
nothing’s ever new.
But still I ask questions
like how do you do
and she recalls my name
it’s the least she could do.
I don’t mean to sound faithless
I’ve just seen enough kicks
see the old man he died, well
some things never make sense.
It’s slight of the hand, it’s
a scam with three cups
you follow the ball then
it’s gone where it was.
My eyes they burn red with
the heat of the day
it’s winter in Burbank
what more can I say,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
Now I take to the bar, where
Happy Hour’s till 6
Scott the tender he knows me
pours my whiskey then gin.
What’s the good word? Pal, tell me
do you think that you could
spare me knowledge like change would
do me some type of good.
I don’t stay past the hour
happiness never lasts
after shame there comes flowers
then of course there’s the past.
You’re a good guy he tells me
see the pain never lasts
I assure you it does, Scott
he just nods then he laughs.
See there’s beauty in living
it’s just hidden by stars
who illuminate sidewalks
like two subtle hearts,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
it’s an obvious cycle, one I’ll never break.(?)
Am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
lightening strike.
When your eyes well with
the sorrow of yesterday
and it feels too dark to see,
tilt your brow upward
just half an inch
and look a little closer to see
that lightening strike
tomorrow.
Words Of An Average White Male 