If God really liked humans best
We would be able to fly
Yeah, we’ve got these incredible brains
But God clearly loves birds more than you or I

Is it fear
Of the fuzzy person
Trying to make herself clear?
Or perhaps disdain
Of the persistent poet
Putting worms in your brain
Or maybe complete disinterest
Like a forced exercise
When you want to rest
Or maybe it’s really funny to you
Watching some dummy play the fool
Because you are just that cool
To reach on in to your woman pool
And draw out something better
Than anything I could do
Are you waiting for me to disappear
Or somehow be more clear
I couldn’t have tried any harder
I’ve got only words
With which I can barter
But what good will it do
To speak lovingly to you
Through the internet
Far and near
When I’m trying to talk
To deaf ears

I suppose you can probably see
I am oodles of noodles
At the caviar party
There are no subtle flavors
(Yet nothing fishy)
But I am proud to be
Thrift store cheap
Pretentiouslessly
I could behave all pomp and classy
But a trailer park is where I’d rather be
Than some fancy
Hollywood party
That kind of scene
Is not for me
One doesn’t need to be upper classy
To possesss lots of quality

People want to know why the chicken crossed the road
I don’t care why
I’d rather congratulate chickens for being so GREAT
At road crossing
I’ve seen dogs and cats and skunks and raccoons and deer and possum
Foxes too
All laying dead on roads
Obviously hit by cars
Yet nobody questions their motives
For crossing that road
On the other hand
I have never seen even one dead chicken
Laying in the road
And still
Everyone wants to know

For whatever it be
You feel heathy to me
Blessing me
Creatively
With a vision
Horizon
Maybe you see
It as unhealthy
And possibly
It could be
I have an addictive personality

There was a time I tried to impress you
Now that time has gone
Approval that I once so craved
Feels like a heavy stone
I used to carry it around
Trying to make it look easy
Now I've left it on the shore
And I'm enjoying the sea
And the breezy
Hope somebody picks it up
And carries you inside
But either way, don't fret
You're too much of a stick in the mud
To get swept away with the tide

Boy
I say boy,
That chick is a fox

I prefer a natural high
Smoke a little ***
All I crave
To get by
Lucky me
To be
Almost mostly free

Am I taking pieces of you
For my own use
When I write you in my poetry?
And if I do
Do I at least
Leave a piece of me?
I feel like the lucky one
To have such a spectacular muse
But I ain’t no slouch
When  it comes to poetry
You got lucky
To be the muse
Of a pretty good poet
Like me
The spectacular muse
With the pretty good poet
There’s no telling what that could be
But it will be written
And thus
A part of our history

I feel spent
I don’t know where all my inspiration went
Silly musing of no worth
Remnants of the afterbirth
Rotting
Putting out a stink
Block my ability to think
I said it all
Real loud and clear
To nobody who wants to hear
Maybe it’s a superpower;
Invisibility
But it sure feels like a curse to me
Echoing here
Silently

You’re supposed to be here
You’re supposed to be that way
You’re certainly not supposed to do that
And here’s what you’re supposed to say
Supposition makes a mess
Of inner peace and happiness

Mister,
You are falling apart
And whatever drug prescribed to you
Is pulling the seams even faster
Because you don’t take it like you’re supposed to

Maybe you haven’t changed at all
You might always have been this way
And now I’m just noticing it
Because I’m taking it personally
And I’ve got to realize
The person you are
Has nothing to do with me

I came with the perfect poem in my head
But I used a new phone, as my old one is dead
And the process of getting to writing the poem
Made it get lost in my head
But I came here to write a poem
And write a poem
I shall
About all the brilliance
Turned into vapor
Between the thought
And commitment to paper

All of the stories are about the exceptional
Half are better
Half are worse
But nobody is interested
In the mediocre
Which is ironic
Since most of us can identify

I wonder what a tree would say
To a climber
If it could
If I was a tree
I’d probably like
When people climbed on me
And birds
They’d probably tickle
All that being said
Thank Goodness I’m not a tree
Helpless as a thing could be

Do you have the time to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just ******?
I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of *** that's bringing me down
I went to a *****
She said my life's a bore
So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Grasping to control
So I better hold on
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just ******?

I'm sayin' all the things that I know you'll like
Makin' good conversation
I gotta handle you just right
You know what I mean
I took you to an intimate restaurant
Then to a suggestive movie
There's nothin' left to talk about
Unless it's horizontally
Let's get physical, physical
I wanna get physical
Let's get into physical
Let me hear your body talk, your body talk
Let me hear your body talk
I've been patient, I've been good
Tried to keep my hands on the table
It's gettin' hard, this holdin' back
You know what I mean
I'm sure you'll understand my point of view
We know each other mentally
You gotta know that you're bringin' out
The animal in me

She leaves a part of who she is
Everywhere she goes
Her true face she shows
To everyone she knows

You want to focus on minutiae
Who said what
And in what way
Each word picked apart
And thrown
In the middle
Overblown
You want to continue down this road
Bickering all the way
Sorry buddy, It's not my thing
Imma leave, and you can stay

It is my job to like myself
I am not gonna sell out
And be the typa person
I cannot like.
Things that are only my own business
But this is only how I feel about me
Whether you like you
Is your business, too

I come across a brilliant poem
Gem
Just gorgeous
Sitting in the dust
Touched upon by wind
But never carried in
Sitting in the crowd
As dust will sit
And accumulate
Dusty gems
Everywhere
While the crowd stays convinced
Gems are rare

Your reaction to fear is silence
And you’re almost always so
And when you ever do speak
You make sure to say lots of nothing
Though
You want to pretend you’re cool
And for us to believe you’re strong
And lots may be fooled forever
I stayed that way for too long
But now that I’ve seen through the charade
I pass by the fool who is too **** afraid
But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t stop in to get laid

You could disappear today
A part of you will always stay
In the poems that you inspired
Nothing further is required
For longevity
Pretty feelings
Set in stone
Stay there even when you’re gone

I know an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don’t know why she swallowed the fly
Perhaps she’ll die
She stayed far away from spiders, though
When something don’t taste right
Old ladies tend to know

It was too **** long
I skipped ahead
Saw I didn’t miss much
All those words to say nothing
I realize that it’s such
A shame
**** doesn’t rhyme
With much

He walks so far away
Distance
Yesterday and today
Tomorrow
Maybe he will see
One would think that would be up to me
Make myself known, flail about
Jump up and down
Scream and shout
Amid the crowd
Millions of kitties
Pulling up shirts
And showing off *******
I got ******* too
But my brain is
So much more beautiful
Like most things that are hard to see
You gotta pay attention to notice the beauty

It must be something
I can’t even name
Never before feeling
That
Makes me still want you
When you’re wearing that dorky hat

I have yet to master the talent of
Holding my tongue

I want to entice you
Into complicit
When we fit it
Where it should be
As seen from afar by me

We can rely on each other
Take from me
What you lack
I give it so willingly
And you give to me
What you have in abundance
Back
And then forward we be
Or sideways sometimes
Whichever way
On a brand new day
Leaning, then leading
Leaving, then greeting
Ignoring, then heeding
Giving, then pleading
Numbness, then feeling
From floor to the ceiling
All through every corner
And cranny and nook
Illuminate, and take a look
Spiders scatter
Cobwebs cleaned
We can rely on each other
Take this from me

There is no such thing as
Bringing a relationship
Back from the dead
Attempts at resuscitation
Will only result
In more frustration
Holding on
Hoping for change
According to Einstein
Makes you deranged
And he was pretty smart

I love my poems
I cannot help but feel they are
BRILLIANT
Rationally
The sane part of me
Knows they’re high
Mediocre
But the dream part of me
Wishes the word could see
The BRILLIANCE
Of my poetry
Maybe it will someday  
After I’ve written so many
A huge anthology
Upon which experts agree
Is BRILLIANT poetry
In my hopes and dreams
That’s how it’s gonna be
Long after I’m dead
My great-great grandkids are gonna be
So **** proud of me

So many things without which
Would be a big deal
Assumed
Reliably
What could anyone hope for
More than necessity?

Maybe I’m intimidating
With all that brazen speculating
On what I see in he and me
And what I think we could be
Maybe I am just annoying
And altogether too adoring
Who knows what the reason be
That he is so thoroughly
Uninterested in me

Fireflies
I am not trying to hate on them
Because they are magic
But fireflies are a let down up close
Basically, a carpenter ant with wings
Yet,  delicate as far as bugs go
But lovely to see
The magic of glow
In a dusk time firefly show
Who gives a crap
How they look up close?
I’m being a hater of fireflies
Clearly I’ve hit a new low

I cannot imagine a ten year old American
Today
Excited to watch a 1970s episode of
“The Price is Right”
But the average American
From 7 to old age
Found that show riveting in the 1970s
It’s only fault was it priced average items
Way too high
People had to guess the price of a jar of
Peanut butter (or whatever)
And the “manufacturer suggested retail”
Was always way higher than what it
Actually cost at the store
It’d be a trip to watch those shows now
And see how cheap things used to be
In the seventies
Even when they were pricing it as high
As they could

It snows in June
Sometimes
On one unlucky
Son of a gun
Dipped and daunted
Cold and haunted
Almost had
Just what you wanted
Summer storms
Blow dreams away

But new dreams come
Another day

It is a mission
Just to get there
Acknowledgment

Rock me Amadeus
Is now on our playlist
That is your song
Today
This is me
Running a tab

Mr. Fair Weather
He’s there whenever
Things are going your way
But soon rain will come
And that ***** ***
Will go find someone
Having a sunny day

Whispers are most interesting
To patient ears

I’ve figured out the formula
To be widely liked and known
If I was willing to sound like a teenager
And forget that I am grown
Corny is craved by the crowd
Something immature and loud
But formula’s not what the crowd needs
How do we get those humans
To breast feed?

I am at a magic “show”
Predictable and boring
With the audience somehow transfixed
I cannot leave
I becomes a we
Stuck in the magic show
So many still believe

I miss the beautiful parts of you
Tender moments
And fresh air breaths
But you’ve got ugly parts, too
Angry, mean, and lots of mess
I can’t have one without the other
It’s just who you are
Uglier than beautiful
Unkind words bashing
In my skull
Pushing away against the pull
You can’t be what you are not
And I cannot be blind
I refuse to go through
Thickets of ugliness
To find a tiny field of kind

Questions
I already know the answer to
Are hardest to ask

You are leaving
Fine
Go
But your announcement about it
Must've been painful
When you had to note
Nobody noticed
Your micro tantrum
About how you're going away
Forever
And maybe a day
Not one measly comment
Asking you to stay
I suppose that explains why
You're done with this place
Goodbye, lonely one
Be on your way

He wants us to believe
He lost his poetry
When that cannot be
He has it so naturally

Some days it’s more
When it’s little things
Sometimes same
Sometimes new
Sometimes new within the same
Teeny moments added
In
To become
Everything

Thank you for piquing my interest
And thank you for tingling my toes
It really made me bloom
My heart getting almost too big for this room
And even though it didn’t last
It’s a bright point of my past
Got me spinning like a the perfect ride
In the tilt a whirl
In an otherwise boring slump
But as much as you get my heart racing
I cannot be a chump