It’s not the drink
that kills the man
it’s the man
that kills the man
like an unbiased observer
the drink is just company
waiting for the man
to either come to his senses
or drink a little more.
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Toeing the edge
There is a fine line —
like a tightrope walker
toeing the edge —
between
complaint and contradiction
that makes me want to set
this whole word farm on fire.
Smoldering Hearts
Remember that
those special people,
the stars
who win awards,
they often look out
into a sea of smiling faces,
smoldering hearts,
and feel very much alone.
The Craft
Tears well
followed by
a deep breath,
sadness
is a fine art,
and I’m still
after all these years
developing the craft.
Happiness & Love
Happiness
& Love
killed
the poem.
As
for
the poet,
he lived
mourned his loss
then learned to love again.
Commute
Purple sky.
Blinking lights and a deep sigh.
Cars pass by.
A Common Conundrum
There
is a
brief
window
as a kid
where
they
don’t know
about
overtime
morning commute
time and a half
cut hours
nor should they,
because
they’re kids,
kids who need to let the adults speak
you tell them all the time
so
when
the kid’s
all grown up
and wants nothing to do with you
don’t forget
all
those
times
the kid
just wanted to play.
Broken Men, Broken Women
Good men
Are broken
By broken women
Born of broken mothers
By broken fathers
Who’ve broken
Good women
Before Long Island
I
believed
in
myself
once.
A
long
time
ago.
Perhaps
too
much.
Perhaps
not
enough.
Like
I
believed
in
you.
A
long
time
ago.
Perhaps
too
little.
Perhaps
too
much.
While
your
many
faces
spoke.
Such
awful
beauty
spewed.
All
that
time.
I
heard
nothing.
Believe
it
or
not,
I
really
believed
in
everyone.
Spitting
tea
leaves.
Before
Long
Island.
Yin and Yang and Me
I had this friend
who did nothing all day long
and this other friend
who never stopped moving.
So all day long
I sat and wondered about these two,
like wings of a dragonfly
my mind raced back and forth
up and down
turning them over like a pair of Jokers,
all day long,
sometimes, all night even.
Pacing back and forth
I never stopped moving
contemplating everything
which turned into nothing.
Words Of An Average White Male 