Love poems I have
  stacks of utter nonsense
   a plethora of piles
     of the ridiculous and illogical
True madness infected
    with rhythm and rhyme
I’ve wandered through
  stories of eternity
    found in simple kisses
I’ve watched tragedies unfold
  in the grains of sand
     at forevers end
I’ve witnessed heaven bloom
  here on earth in every step
    I’ve seen love take
and I’ve seen that heaven crumble
  and have been left with
      the heavy weight
        and the emptiness
          of nothing at all
and I have wished foolish wishes
  and I have sat with death
   and asked…

I have never been particularly
  found of heartache
    nor have I ever learned
       to handle it well
Is there every a better time
   to be melodramatic than during
       the dizzying heights
         or desperate lows of love

and yet I am still here
  by luck or miracle
i do not know if
  there is a difference
    between the two
I am grateful though
  to have lived
   through loves
     short days of eternity
and survived the worsts
  of its endless nights
I am grateful to have
  experienced love
    in every aspect
       it has shown me

every shy school boy crush
every devastating broken heart
every first kiss
every unexpected goodbye

and I have been here long enough
  and I have loved
     and been loved enough
to know that sometimes
   even though some loves
      don’t last forever
   somehow
     in someway
        they do

and isn’t that enough
  for me to know
that by some miracle
  In this life
I can truly say
I have been lucky in love

The first time I saw her
  I never would of thought
    a girl that beautiful
      would ever love
        a guy like me

But then somehow
  she did
    loved me more
      than anyone had before
         or since
loved me more kindly
  more sweetly
   more more
    than I ever would have
      imagined possible

And even though
  it didn't last forever

somehow

in someway

it did

to dream of mice dreaming
  to see things different
    than they are
to rearrange reality
  from this state of horror
    to something kinder
      more forgiving

a world absent of hate
   free of ego
    no need for language
      only soft silence
    and unspoken poetry
      harmony and music

no wanting of the wasteful
  no need of needless things
    all desires rooted
      to the heart of love

no more use for the illusion of time
  forever and eternity married
    in the palm of our hands
     day and night lost
      with the wildflowers dancing
        within our pulse

all our blood flowed together
  forming a river wide enough
    for the sun to rest in
      to float down

as we shed our humanity
   and become mice dreaming
     of ourselves
   kinder and more forgiving
     than we are

The night sky had a cup
  full of moonlight
and the shadows played
  in the fields
   and danced in the streets
the few sparce stars in the sky
  gently sang a lullaby
and the mad mad world below
  paused for a moment
    for only a moment
and though worn and weary
  I smiled
sleep would come
   soon enough
and trouble would have
  to wait for tomorrow
    to begin its brew again...

She came and went
  wandering from one dream
   into another
leaving behind small trinkets
  underneath his pillow

     the warmth of her smile
     the pulse of her kiss
     the ghost of her touch

and when he woke
  the autumn scent
    of her hair
      danced lightly
        in the air

he took a deep breath
  filling his lungs
   until his ribs
    nearly cracked
       apart

then exhaled
  and smiled

   a sad

    happy

      smile

and the details of the dream
  blurred and rearranged
    themselves
       and bit
         by bit
          faded into
            the memory
              of mist

she slipped down into his heart
  and made a small fire
   and kept everything warm

and waited
  waited for him

   to sleep

    to sleep

     and dream

       again

wrinkled velvet
  scratchy silk
a stain on the laundry list
   lazy verbs
     and mispronounced pronouns
language is a funny thing
  a vocabulary test
    on a lifelong joke
     with no punchline
strange how we can laugh
  at our own misery
or weep uncontrollably
  when we find our hearts
    overfilled with joy
it’s enough to make someone
  believe that maybe
   we don’t really know anything
     about all the things
       we pretend to know
personally I don’t pray
  to a this god
    or a that god
I have my faith invested
  in the wisdom
   of fairy tales
    instead of the studies
      of theology
but i do appreciate any conviction
  that leads someone
    to a life where they
      help compassionately
        give with generosity
          and love more kindly
what else do we have
  but this one brief moment
    this one long
     often agonizing
      brief pause of eternity
       to live this life in
why is so much worry
  about what comes next
    weighing down today
when none of us
  is guaranteed
   to see tomorrow
and what good is a future
  that ignores the rubble
    of the past
the absolute wreckage
  we have left behind
    in our human history
the truth of our mistakes
  has been whitewashed
   again and again
in every new volume
  of every new text book
rewriting villains as hero’s
  neglecting to write down
   their origins and crimes
there is a deliberate madness
  in this process
   an intentional poisoned thread
    placed in the binding
     of the pages
      the spine
       of the book
the truth is still there though
  bleeding through
   the page in braille
only being read by those
  who want to read it
those how refuse
  to let the truth
    of the past
      be replaced
       by a modern lie
but the masses consume
  faster than they learn
and we pride ourselves
   as intelligent
    crown ourselves
     as noble
arrogantly pointing out our ability
  of pattern recognition
while constantly failing
  at not repeating
   the pattern throughout
    our history
      that causes so much
        human misery
and I wish I could laugh
  but my heart doesn’t
   have the vocabulary
    to write a punchline
     in a language it just
      can’t find funny anymore

how childishly we make
  mockery of time
how foolishly we fear
   its passing
the common cliché
  of turning twenty nine
    over and over
until we find ourselves
  making the same joke
   at thirty nine
     and forty nine
       and...
as if ever new decade
  every new day
     isn’t a privilege
        a blessing
something we are
  not guaranteed
    not owed
     not all given
there is nothing to fear
in accepting our mortality
in learning that death
will greet us warmly
in knowing that it is
  the same with
    our last breath
      as it is with
        our first breath
each one a gift
   that can only be given
     by the passing of time
why should we
  fear the unknown
    the unknowable
to such a degree
that we allow it
   to take away
     to distract us
from the gift of this moment
  the every present
    passing of time
it will all pass and be gone
   in less than
    the blink of an eye
an eternity come and gone
  in the breeze
no matter how long
or short our lives will be
   in the end
     it will always be
      too short
        end
          too soon
let us enjoy each breath
that time allows us
gives us
as children do
gratefully unaware
of how childishly
we will grow