Nothing’s easy Nothing’s free

Nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

No one’s ever happy

Unless another’s on their knees

Try your best to feel fine

Try your best to speak

Someone’s always coming round

With the answer like a creep

Cause nothing’s ever easy

Nothing’s ever free

Take two for your headache

Take five just to fall asleep

Try your best to ration

Try your best to feed

The world’s always been hungry

We’ve always had food to eat

Cause nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

But son if you are honest

It’s there you’ll start to see

Words can fuel an army

Where the hells that apostrophe?

Dialect can save you

What’s left is up to me

In silence there is virtue

Inside you learn to breathe

No matter where life takes you

No matter who you meet you’ll see

Nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

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.

It’s all understandable. (for every no one who ever was)

To be honest

and be open

put yourself in

her hands like you’re a toy.

There’s a reason

for each season

pollen eaten

her wind cradles a boy.

They know nothing of us,

and we

know nothing of them.

We all

just sort of pretend.

We’re bitter still.

In the air there’s a bitter chill.

Like a car crash

I tell you that

it’s not too bad

we both just try not to stare.

In the glove box

there’s a snuff box

full of coupons

I keep in case that you cared.

The leaves on the ground,

remind me

how powerless that I am.

It’s natural to fall down,

we all

just sort of try to fit in.

Leave me alone, no don’t

leave me alone.

Memories fill my head

like waves

crashing down on the shore.

Just as soon as they hit

cast away

back to the ocean once more.

To be bitter

or be broken

understand that

this is for no one who ever was.

Nonsense

I was thinking how peculiar

right before I made a U turn

It was early Sunday morning

flashing sirens without warning

Looking both ways like a child

crossing with chicken on the road

there is this man who looks me up

and down as I begin to sigh

Then I look in both direction

turn the wheel with cruel intention

In the distance there’s this woman

picket signs read save the children

I am half way home before I know

exactly what I’m doing though I

stop the car unlock the door

and let the woman in

She sits criss-cross like a virgin

while I drive off she is urgent

I don’t know what you are thinking

she speaks softly without blinking

I was waiting for the bus when you

rolled up I must confess I recognized

your eyes from times gone by

like strangers on a train

It is awkward for a second

can I interest you in breakfast

She says sure she knows a diner

while she applies her eye liner

There’s a group of old men standing

with dead babies and demanding

that a women’s right is not all right

unless they’re in control

I’ll have coffee she’ll have coffee

yes please thank you two black coffee’s

In her teeth stuck there’s a poppy

seed my breath smells quite like onion

As the man from earlier walks by

the window just in time to see

again with no expression just a

long tedious sigh

He must think of me how boring

flashing sirens without warning

I feel seasick like a sailor

hey can you do me a favor

And that’s when she asks

to take her back in time for

her divorce of course she’d

first prefer some pie

On the drive home I was thinking

how peculiar she left winking

Shut the door then started walking

while I drove off she was talking

To the man who looked familiar

from the corner of my eye though

when I looked away then back again

they both just sort of sighed

Passing by the old cathedral

doors open releasing people

From their suffering they’re smiling

shaking hands exchanging sighs and

Across the street there’s signs

that read like jokes inside my mind

there’s men and women who protest

the earth is flat next to another group

who all claim there is no God.

Saturday morning

Saturday morning

woke me up

scratching and sour.

Then I wrecked my pants

feeling lousy, still

I went to my workshop

estranged from the world

yet there in that room

among strangers

who some

I call friends

I felt

Inspired

& well

Happy

So we told our stories

and while listening to Avi read about

Bob in a shipyard explosion

all that other stuff just kind of

went away.

that tiny speck of the world

people were funny like that

one minute you’d be hating them all

and the next you’d be falling in love

with every single one of em

because they were all beautiful

and ugly, starry eyed and wild

tolerating crazy with kindness

and even if not listening

just being there

made all the difference in

that tiny speck of the world

where nobody knew anyone more

than he or she even knew themselves

Writing.

Most of the time, it’s like

banging your head against a brick wall,

trying to knock some nugget of sense loose,

but other times it’s easier

like morphine, numb to the world — regardless —

while telling it exactly how you feel.

Daily Fighter

The

world’s

got me

beat up

again.

Like

every

great fighter

on the ropes,

I

can’t quite get the sweat from my eyes,

blurring my vision

of the battle

I’m sure

to

Win.