Isn’t it funny how views can change,
with just a few little words?
Isn’t it odd how thoughts rearrange,
with just three little words.

They imply so much, yet say so little,
and flip perspectives around.
They make you wonder, make you think,
about secrets you haven’t found.

Just three little words, but huge implications,
seed a feeling that can’t help but grow.
Three little words, sowing suspicion,
You mean, you didn’t know?

it's just something. something about old pictures, something about the way the streets look different and the way those wrinkles on your face now aren't alive yet just waiting to be born,
the way the hues of the image before me are washed out but still shine with the memories you infused into every droplet of ink printed onto the page.
mother and daughter crouched onto the broken cobbled stones.
frilly summer dresses and messy hair for you and for your mother, timeless elegance.
the narrowed streets swallowing you, bring you closer, but closer to what?
the  faded corner shop with the grumbling old man resided in the small city streets.
take a look around, do you remember? tell me about why you took this? when you took this? how did it feel taking this? what had happened before you took this picture?
the small limbed entity crouched cheekily next to her mother, oh i look at you and wonder just how fast time goes.
the time ticks on and so does my heart, that's a second gone, now a minute, suddenly an hour. wait how did 14 years go by.

they trigger something inside of me

good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn't always happen
and when it does
it doesn't
always last.
man is
more stable:
if he's bad
there's more chance
he'll stay that way,
or if he's good
he might hang
on,
but a woman
is changed
by
children
age
diet
conversation
***
the moon
the absence or
presence of sun
or good times.
a woman must be nursed
into subsistence
by love
where a man can become
stronger
by being hated.
I am drinking tonight in Spangler's Bar
and I remember the cows
I once painted in Art class
and they looked good
they looked better than anything
in here. I am drinking in Spangler's Bar
wondering which to love and which
to hate, but the rules are gone:
I love and hate only
myself-
they stand outside me
like an orange dropped from the table
and rolling away; it's what I've got to
decide:
**** myself or
love myself?
which is the treason?
where's the information
coming from?
books...like broken glass:
I wouldn't wipe my *** with 'em
yet, it's getting
darker, see?
(we drink here and speak to
each other and
seem knowing.)
buy the cow with the biggest
****
buy the cow with the biggest
****.
present arms.
the bartender slides me a beer
it runs down the bar
like an Olympic sprinter
and the pair of pliers that is my hand
stops it, lifts it,
golden **** of dull temptation,
I drink and
stand there
the weather bad for cows
but my brush is ready
to stroke up
the green grass straw eye
sadness takes me all over
and I drink the beer straight down
order a shot
fast
to give me the guts and the love to
go
on.
from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966

I lie awake
I can't sleep
I want to
But I don't want to
I want to dream of you
But then when I wake
It was all a lie
You don't care
You won't be there
What do I do?

I want to fall asleep
But I hope I don't wake up without you.

How could I love a person like that?
Unwanted
Undesirable
Ugly and fat.

Misshapen and all wrong,
So weak.
Their problems drag on.
Foolish and gullible.
Naive and selfish.

I person so uncaring,
with words so harsh.
Dramatic and foolish.
I know I should try,
But it becomes harder and harder...

How could I love a person like me?...

I have come to an impasse in my life
I no longer have a definitive direction
Now only questions without answers
And answers with no explanation
In all things I lack the closure I crave
Just a gaping hole filled with misery
I long to at last carve out the sorrow
To be free and **** that part of me
That part that refuses to let me heal
To let the scars of the past fade
But some wounds never truly mend
And in this realization I am unmade.

Time seems to drift away,
Friends seem to drift away,
Love seems to drift away,
Purpose seems to drift away,
Dreams seem to drift away,
Life seems to drift away,
In time we will all drift away.

Everyone’s greatest fear is rejection.
We knew its existence,
but no one understand it clear.

       The feel of rejection,
       Is like cutting the deepest of our soul
       by a razor that causes an affliction.

Carved our hearts to the extent.
Leaving with painful scar,
and making it permanent.

       Stark naked vulnerability, all aglow
       We can find no escape
       But to let the tear in our eyes flows

But a human like us,
Is  a material thing, easily torn
and not easily mended.

       When aggrieved, craving to be relieved.
       For you, neither have I lived nor relived.
       **In rejection, I fear

my first
a lion inside a boy
a full moon (i thought you gave off light; you only reflected mine)
a breathless english winter, pale and icy
an explorer of collar bones and thighs and shoulder blades
my love, my life
the loveliest flower, or perhaps an entire garden
a time traveller (you showed me the world at 5.30am)
a stupid teenage boy
july 28th to november 4th
a semicolon - a story to be continued;