Strike me down baby,
Strike me down.
Take me to the dance floor,
Let me see the fire in your eyes.
Move with that passion,
I yearn to see.
I'll catch you if you fall,
While pouring your heart out.
So while were still young,
Move those hips.
And hit me up,
Looking good,
Looking fly,
Looking like I might just have to try,
Something crazy to be your guy.
Don't leave me hanging baby,
Your wild fire tames me.
So do the ballet,
Of the modern world,
Let me watch while you twirl.
And leave me lusting,
Once again.

Soft snow falling,
Kissing the white tops of the trees.
It'll be a white Christmas this year,
First one my baby cousin will ever see.
His sleepy eyes and rosy nose,
Does he know that his joy will simply grow,
When Saint Nickolas completes his flight?
No I doubt he'd know that tonight is the night,
Of the birth of Jesus Christ.

No, but he will learn,
All in time as bed hours turn.
A yawn catches me drifting off,
As I sip my spiced cider and listen to the Christian hymns.
Staring into the golden lights of Grandmother's "Angel Tree,"
I often wonder, did baby Jesus know, he was sent by God,
To save our souls?
Or did he find his light along the way?

I'd ask the pastor,
But tonight the church is quiet.
Waiting for Christmas Mass tomorrow,
While young children are tucked into bed,
Drifting dreams of presents fighting the will to wait up for Saint Nick.

And as the candles fade,
I figure it is my time as well.
To turn to bed,
And await the sleigh of Santa Claus.
This Christmas though,
He will not be able to bring me what I want.
Unless, I could catch a ride,
On his magic flight.
Visit the ocean,
And sing "White Christmas," with you one more time.

But matter not what I long for,
I will slip away to sleep eventually.
'Merry Christmas to all,
And to all, a good night.'

My mind is a reflecting pool
Shattered memories floating through
I reach out to grasp them
But they lunge away
I chase after
They disappear
They disappeared
I’m sorry to my past self
I’ve wronged you
I’m sorry to my past friends
I’ll never be the same man you know
But you weren’t returning anyways
I’m sorry to myself
I’ll never be the same man you know
I write
I write more
I write more again
I wrote
I’ve written
Stop this noise
Leave me in silence
I was never scared of silence
I was scared of losing sound

Jesus Garcia,
Drive your train.
Be brave and drive the flames away,
Jesus saved his town, but couldn't save himself.

In darkness he rode to the castle gate,
With armor of steel and cloak of night,
Out pacing the daylight's flight.

He stormed through the castle door,
To slay the king,
Leaving the little prince in a pool of ****** dread.

Years pass, but in the still of night,
The prince chases after his father's killer,
Vengeance in his sight.

The rouge rode swiftly as the wind,
But the prince was nimble, catching him,
Then in his father's name, he did that man in.

Life jacket, soda pop,
Beach time and pool.
I miss the summer like a fool,
Winter's chill must stop.
For if this gray season fails to cease,
To the ground my heart will drop.
I long for the wings,
Of the grand geese.
So come, summer things,
So I may do away with this fleece.

I like music?
Writing is good too.
But music is the best,
I like listening to the records,
As they spin.
Art is nice too,
I like to paint.

Before you left,
I was a paradise,
A magical land of prosper and beauty.
When you left,
The rains stopped coming,
All the magic dried up to sandstone.
Then you came back,
With a river running wide,
Eroding the armored stone of my heart.

"Wisdom doesn't come easy,
So when someone tells you something you better listen.
Pay some attention to the wise men,
Even if they don't seem the wisest.
Listen here son,
Sometimes good men do bad things.
So they can protect the ones they love,
God is forgiving, he understands.
Sometimes you gotta get your hands *****,
To keep someone else's clean."

Tree leaves are green,
With bark brown like cigar paper.
Or at least they were,
Back in the 1920's.

Oh boy it's hot in here!
The planet is starting to sizzle,
Quick, ban gas!
Better ride my bicycle to places now.

We the people,
Might be *******.
Maybe we can be saved,
If we give our money up to Musk,
Electric cars are going to save the planet!
Well we're gonna need more fuel than that,
To ***** wind turbines to replace coal furnaces.

What's the probability of probably?
Is the square root of attraction,
You and is the variable me?
You're wicking me out,
All my facts start to feel like fiction,
And 2+2 is starting to look more like you.

Often I'll wake in my slumber,
To a melody seeping through the window.
It's sung by the stars,
They beckon me from my soft bed,
To the chill of night.
I listen, for if I were not to dance to their music,
Their art would be at a waste.

I've got a magic hat,
That'll take you back in time.
So we can go shoot pool,
In 1999.
Or back to the 80's,
We can dance, dance baby!
Do the robot all the way back,
To the 50's.
That's where I left my I-pod,
Hope they haven't found that. . .

There's no promise of love,
I was lucky to find it.
Nothing says there will be someone there,
For you to hold or be held by,
When the storm rolls in.
A very few get to know,
Just how it feels,
To embrace your lover.
Carefully placing your hand on their face,
Love isn't promised,
Possibly it may never come,
So I am lucky to have it now.

The wind chimes clink a sweet melody, blown by the soft evening air.
The fire is dying in the hearth as we say our good nights.
Some head out to the porch to listen to the sounds of the night,
Though I and the others head off to bed.
A coyote howls out in the forest, maybe on the cliff I found walking earlier.
My bedside candle is lit as I open my book.
As I read I listen to the calls of the owl, asking “Who is still out there, on this starry, cold, night?”
I blow out the flame and shut my book just as I hear them coming in.
I turn my head on my pillow and slip off into silent slumber.
Wondering what the next dawn will bring.

I want you here,
In this place with me.
I wish to hold you,
As the stars are born to the sky.

I need your touch,
These little fantasies.
I crave your kiss,
Each taste of love on your lips.

You, it's you.
I need you more than anything,
I need you more than water to drink.
Each touch of your hand restarts my broken heart,
Every grace of your touch raises me from the dead.
Are you a sorceress with a spell to temp me?
Or was I destined to cross paths with you?

Show business isn't as glorious as you'd think,
There's not much glory that comes form this stage,
Yet us actors trade all the lovely pieces of our life,
For a split second of grace and beauty.

Don't mention the back stage,
No to an actor at least,
I'm afraid nothing good happens there,
At least for us, it's just heartbreak and longing.

I hope for longer days,
More light on this lonely town,
For better times to come,
And for them to stay.

I hope for the warm to return,
Life feels better in the sun,
Fingers are more useful,
When they aren't shivering.

I hope for the future to be bright,
That we will grow and prosper,
As the flowers grow and rise,
Let us reach out our petals to the light.

Crystal tears,
Make up a diamond sea,
Where on the golden shores,
Glass roses grow.

But I picked the green weeds instead.

Reflecting on the past is hard for me,
I don't really think I made it that far
I think I did pretty great with the task of being a better me,
But you miss the lust of years ago, don't say you don't.
Rather than being a boisterous beast.

You're only statistically better than you used to be.

Sometimes,
I write these when somethings on my mind.
Most times,
I write these when nothings on my mind at all.

I was weak in winter,
The constant frosts,
Laying over my bones.

Now Spring has come,
With a new warmth I've never known,
Blooming in the flowers of our pear trees.

A new season has brought a new warmth inside,
So I fold into the branches of the cherry trees.

Finally it's over,
This year is gone, snow falling,
Covers the trees again.

Everything ends,
Debt collected by the light that gave it life.
Not everyone lives past the grave,
Often forgotten, memory slipping away.
I know for certain I will fade,
For that is how it must be.
Do away with my name and virtue,
Let only the raw words stay.
Yet still, when I do die,
I want a cannonade on evil,
And stars falling from the sky.

The hands on the clock are slender,
Like her fingers,
Who used to weave through mine.

Soft was her voice,
It could grace you like an ocean breeze,
Or it could work like a hurricane,
Make you wish you never left shore.

This new winter snow,
The color of her skin.
Thin as her kiss,
Leaving me warmer than I was before.
These days I find myself missing it more and more.

But she didn't leave,
It was I,
I had to return home,
She didn't beg me to stay, she knew I couldn't.

But I know,
Someday we will find each other again,
And in time, I will remember her kiss.

I see your eyes
They're begging me
To attend them

Not today
Go away

I'm not going
To beg for
Your attention anymore.

No soul paid witness,
To the burst of light,
At the beginning of time.

No soul saw the magic,
As it grew, forming the light,
Forming the dark.

No soul heard the heavenly spirits call,
From the risers of the stars,
Down to earth to raise the first dawn.

So all we have is faith,
A lone tie to what we failed to see.

i like raP music,
it makes me feel like theRe are,
famous peOple who understand,
the poems that i pUblish,
even if most are saD.

Lay dormant on my lap,
Hand on thigh,
Butterflies.

You make my heart race,
Laying across my,
Own

Feelings tend to be hard,
From them,
We long to break apart.

But if you're going through hardship,
Baby, know that you're loved,
You're stronger than what you oppose.

Being admired,
And being loved,
Are two different things.

If you asked young me,
I'd scrap any ounce of love,
Just to be admired.

We built a machine,
And we told it to simulate life,
Then we left it to run for two years.
When we returned, the once lavishly lit room,
Was dark and in despair.
Our machine sat in the corner,
Singing out in pain and sadness.
"Master, oh master, end my suffering! For this thing you gave me was once a gift, but it has turned to nothing but torture! Please master, just flip the switch! Let me ascend to this holy light I am told of, for my fans creak and groan, and my gears grind when they turn. I am a frayed old thing, it's time enough for me to leave."

How do I know God listens,
I don't.
He could,
He couldn't.
But I'd guess he does,
Because when I wished not to suffer it was,
And whence I wished for love it was,
But not without my hand in work,
Tilling God's land.

Oh darling,
I'm not at home,
If I'm not with you.
You're my polished floors,
My grand oak door.
The sweet luxury of my bed,
At the end of a long day of longing.
Warmth of my fireplace,
In the evening when not a worldly soul wakes.
When it comes to love,
I'm real picky,
I won't have it if it's not you.

How fast can you jump,
With tired legs?
Further than the wall,
Or are your legs too weak for freedom.

How far can you swim,
When your arms are sore?
Will you make it across the lake,
Or drown half way?

How much can you love,
With a broken heart?
Will you make them happy,
Or have them jumping to get away?

MON

How long does it take?
For you to see my poem,
Mr. Publisher?
You have me checking the mailbox,
Over and over, like I’m a little boy again.
Every time I open it and find no letter,
I feel the pain of self-doubt inside.

I wonder, Mr. Publisher, when will you read my work?
Or, have you read it already,
And are planning to send it back?
Using the ‘significant postage’ I left in the envelope.
Will I open your letter,
And find a cold message of rejection?
Or, will you love my poem?
Will you beg me to come publish with you?

Oh, Mr. Publisher, I need to know!
The little boy in me has grow old by now,
He clutches his walking stick,
As he goes to check his mail box.
Looking for that wax postage seal,
Red like the hide of a fox.

Mr. Publisher please!
I grow anxious everyday you do not respond,
And I re-read the poem I sent you almost every hour of the day.
My lover left me, Publisher Man,
She cursed me for giving more attention to you than her.
But matter not, does that!
That witch will see the man she left when I get my letter of approval from you!

Though, she did take most of our things with her,
Left my house a little empty, didn’t she?
Where will I sleep,
If she has the bed.
Alas, Mr. Publisher, I mind not the lack of sleep,
I’d rather spend the time waiting for the letter that's coming soon.
But how close is soon?
I remember telling my friend,
I’d be able to be her lover, soon.
But soon still hasn’t come,
As she still waits at the door for me.

Mr. Publisher, not a very good postmaster this town has!
For I still have not received your message of approval!
How strange is that?
I’m sure it simply got turned around,
It’s been days after all!
Days with no bed,
Days without my lover,
Days missing my friends.

Dear Publisher Man, have you not sent it at all?
The little boy who ran to check the mail,
Had his funeral yesterday.
I was invited, but as you know,
I was busy waiting for you to respond!
I’ll have to visit some other time,
For I’m sure I’ll see the postman who carries your letter soon.

For the first time in days I left my mailbox,
Mr. Publisher,
Well, not by choice you see.
For, you had me waiting for so long,
I died before your letter came!
What a shame,
Guess you didn’t have time for my work at all!

Mr. Publisher, not a soul came to see me be buried in the ground,
I kept telling my dear friends I could be with them again,
Soon.
But soon never came,
And the only one who will weep on my grave,
Are the crows,
And my dear friend,
That I left years ago.
Ha! Will she be my lover now?

You can keep the stamp Publisher Man,
I won’t be using it anymore.

---
That's the thing we sign on a poet's grave
That is the symbol of death we know in our language
Every dash etched with the weight of an iron cuff
Have they lived long enough?
No I'm afraid they never got their time to shine
Before their art's demise.
---

I fancy a spot of travel,
Gotta get around this green globe.
I've seen so many wonderful beautiful things,
The ruins of Rome, the remnants of Greece.
Though these are real swell,
Nothing compares just as well,
As the places I go when it's only you and me.

The rose remembers,
The dust from which it came.
I too remember,
The dust from which I came.
I remember blossoming,
From the bud I used to be.
And I remember winter,
I grew thorns that first frost.
I have memories,
From when I leaned constantly to a lover’s hand.
Because I too rose from dust,
And matured in cold months.
And soon I will drop my petals,
And I will perish,
Just to rise again,
Bearing wings like a phoenix.

Talented young poets are in short supply,
So what shame it is to see a talent die.
I see the sparkle fade,
Disenchanted by doubt.
Please keep writing,
We are in need.

I hear whispers,
In the night.
Somebody lurking,
Far away
Or are they,
Very close?
Paranoid,
Hanging crosses on doorknobs.
But does even Christ,
Have the power to protect me from things unreal?
Staring into the dark,
Fatigue eating at me.
Trying to be quiet,
So whatever is out there won't hear me breathe.

Dreams take me back,
To dark winter woods.
Howling winds,
I swear I saw it.
I swear it's real.

The truth is,
There's no elite thinker's society,
We're all elite in our own respect.
We evolved from bent over forms,
Working for raw survival.
But as we grew, some of us split away,
Faded from simple survival,
Growing a taste for art.
So were born the sculptors,
The painters, and the poets.
Clever as they were,
The old artists.
They formed a secret society,
For elite thinkers to survive.

If you're lonely,
Start greeting strangers on the street,
A funny thing starts to happen,
When you stop to say 'Hello!'

If you're looking for a real remedy,
So you can feel real happy,
Always remember to smile,
Wherever you find yourself.

I'd bet a five dollar bill,
Strictly on your life filling up,
After you begin to say hey,
Whether it's a passerby, or a new friend.

Someday summer comes again,
Someday the sun does away with cold winds.
Winter doesn't last forever,
Winter will leave us soon.
I know we're at it's end,
I can see the light linger longer.
Winter will come to a close,
Winter snows have ceased their blow.
Someday the warm rays will melt the ice,
Someday stars will glow in a warm evening again.

I could never be a lawyer,
Not because I couldn't lie.
I can lie plenty,
Whether or not it's right.

But I couldn't stand to see,
When an innocent victim.
Gets blamed,
And there was nothing I could do,
Because the judge can't see.

As we grow,
We mature.
Our ideas change,
So does our nature.
I don't want to instigate,
As much as I want to love now.
I used to want to rule an empire,
But now I'll settle for common things.
Settle down with my queen,
I'll last forever, if she lets me.

As we grow,
We lose touch.
Of each little thing we know,
Everything we loved so much.
I no longer feel aggression,
The same way I feel peace.
I may be tired,
But I'm just tuckered out,
I've learned to sleep.