You play with such pathetic
Little bitty ****** pretty boys
Who plagiarized my heart’s
Purpose and deep content
Saw you sleep and laughed
Wrote you clichéd love songs
But did not know the real words
Till I gave them the light
They Could not shine half as bright
Because they did not have
My tremendous might

While they were praying
Still staying out late
Drinking and playing
I was out dragon slaying
In the name of true love
Not *** and ***** stuff
But appreciation, admiration
And millennia’s worth of wisdom
In our shared written history

But my truth is not enough
You wear another man’s touch
Dream of the poison he brings
How he breaks you in two
Shades of silky ribbon grey
Ties you down to archaic ways
Like you are some thing

Where he bought you
Black roses ready to wilt
I bought you a world of fields
Full of an infinite variety
of flowers to see
each one named after you
Shining barely half as beautifully

Where he gave you
Rotten sewage and sludge
I gave you an ocean’s worth
Of dolphin filled sparkling love

Where he gave you
Noxious fumes
Spiraling up to the moon
I gave you kind clouds
That could look like anything
And a radiant sun
Guarding you from
Darkness’s invasion

Where he gave you a diamond
I wanted to give you the universe
But he bought you an expensive purse
Walked you straight up to your hearse
Before my verses of love
Could ever pierce the madness
Proving once more
That the true heart of a poet
Is meant to beat alone

For a scarred heart like mine
Love is a sucker’s bet.
Russian roulette
with bullets that won’t
quite **** me yet
just make me forget
how to feel hope for real.

How fitting, that I own alone.
Worked and saved for it.
Bought and paid for it.
Became a slave to it.
Lived it graciously
Even when I hated it.
Dreamed about cheating on it
With some true love
But my truths weren’t
True enough to break its orbit,
Now, I am so close to mastering it.
The final stage will be
To see me
Die alone

There are reservoirs of grief
So deep
That they threaten to drown me
Wells that cut through the core
To the other side
Burnt
Lava pain
That erupts
Cools
And leaves a permanent crust

I revisit them in silence

They are as natural
As the geysers
That spit steaming hot water

They are the bedrock
Of my earthly identity

They are my history
Left in the sediment

They cause me to pause
In pain
To wake in tears

Yet I hide the years
Of sorrow so well

But the hidden truth remains
It is in my name
A line of loss
The terrible cost
Of living is losing

And all that is birthed from the earth
Will be taken by the earth
Even my pain will go that way

The night may be young my son
But my soul is much to world weary
To dank and dreary
Heavy with heartbreak
And that heartache may take
The last bits of strength I have
To even stay awake

You cannot wave the rights of man
In favor of a master plan

Yet, traitors to this land
Would haves us stand
Against those struggling hearts
Those hurt and hungry refugees
Whose mirrored faces
Find reflections of me
Minor variations
Scarred, older, younger,
Father, daughter, mother

Trembling hands
That labored long
In a place they can
No longer call home
Driven by fear to flee
To a place they hope to be
Safe and free
From violence

Instead they find this
Racist place is
Full of angry faces

In their name
I plead for saner souls
To stand with me
To stop the insanity
To help and love humanity
Because they are our family

It does no take a knife to find
the dark sharks that swim
inside your mind
could easily be mine.

The pain you hoard
as your birthright
the jagged sob filled breaths
that wake you at night
could be mine.

Your pain is only a day away
from the shadows that play puppet master
to my pains.

Your anguish may stay miles away
may play with stars that fade
in tragic comparison
to the fields of sorrow
you burn in,

but when you turn in
for sleep
just know that my dreams
still search humanity’s black seas
for our human connection
while knowing that I am easily one
bad day away from your pain.

You birth is an invitation
Few received from quintillion plus
Possible people
A gift to exist
A choice given
The variables
A ticket to the freak show
Or to the joy ride
Of expanding life
And human consciousness
It was not stamped for approval
Nor is it dependent on the permission
From those in power
Who required you
To live by their patterns
Why would you
When you can build a better loom

My heart is a fool’s corpse
That archeologist will find
Thousands of years from now
Fossilized in amber or calcified
Toughened by all the lies
That scarred it

Each time love’s promises
Smashed it
Each time hopes dreams
For a better world
Crushed it

Each failed expectation
Which sought to lessen
Taught me many lessons
To pass my heart on
and prevent someone else pain

My heart is a fool’s corpse
That archeologist will find
Thousands of years from now
Fossilized in amber or calcified
Toughened by all the lies
That scarred it

Each time love’s promises
Smashed it
Each time hopes dreams
For a better world
Crushed it

Each failed expectation
Which sought to lessen
Taught me many lessons
To pass my heart on
and prevent someone else pain

I have spent years
Fighting your fear
Of complexity
And I am tired

Uncertain if my struggle
Has made a difference
Wondering if my existence
Is worth the flesh that made it

I guess I will have to wait and see
And if I find it wasn’t
Well then my folly will be
Trying to believe
In a world where
We can be better human beings

We blame ourselves
not knowing why
there is blood in their eyes.

We wear red welts
and bluish bruises
but hurt even more inside.

Is it their lies or ours
that justify the scars
on our still beating hearts?

In comes nose runs,
and endless fountains of tears,
with an eternity of fear
that says please don’t let me
live this way.

We internalize their mistakes
looking out at the world,
believing that we are weak,
so we do not speak of such things.

Sometimes, we come out alive
on the other side of that life.
Sometimes, their rage becomes ours.
If we are lucky we learn
to take our pain and turn
it into compassion and purpose.

Still, we are always on the verge
of something unknown
fires un-shown
children stuck between
fully and half grown.

Give me one more word
just a little more time
to wrap you in my arms
in a hug so tight.

Give me one day
from sun up
to sun down
one more conversation
before we lay you
in the ground.

The water is a dangerous mirror.
Under a chaotic wind swept surface
I see myself, almost formless;
Clinging to old memories
like a drowning man
clings to the hope for air.

A flag does not deserve allegiance.
It is only a symbol woven in cloth.
It does represent truth or justice
but the expanding providence
Of undue influence;

Mind controlled population
subservience
to the country you were born in
by chance.

Though it may be pretty
flapping in the wind
it is not a worthy friend
to any woman or man.
It is merely a symbol
waving for the those
who cannot understand
life is more complicated
than their flag lets on.

In the choppy Sunday waters
A piece of cardboard
swims just below the surface
only inches away
from the safety of the grassy shore.

Farther out a plastic bag struggles
slightly submerged
it cannot decide
whether it should drown
or fly away with the wind.
Instead, it floats wide open
******* in air
but never escaping its purgatory.

With a few lights of potential love
hope cracks my steely exterior.
My guard drops.

I dream of folded fingers
wrapped around my neck,
Of gently caressing her skin,
Of poetry and passion.

I try to restrain hope
to a reasonable buzz
because I know there is no love
and I am always right.

Truth sours hope’s dreams,
curdling them in my stomach
reminding me
there will be
no happy ending for me.

So like a good little soldier boy
I march on
tapping my drum
and writing these
sad love songs.

Random waves of wind
ripple across the water,
while wild birds shiver
and it is not even winter.

Though I wish it was not
the case
this human race
does not want
an honest human being.

Instead, they want shiny
expensive
status symbols
but all I have to offer
is love and wisdom.

The world does not want
one more poet activist
crying out against
all injustice.

The world does not want
a moral philosopher
plunging the depths
of the lies we tell ourselves,
discarding illusions, and
barely overcoming confusion
to become a better human being.

The world does not want
another hopeless romantic
faithful lover,
god under the covers,
explorer, and discoverer
of all untraveled depths
that women possess.

This world does not want me
and I am almost okay with that.

When I am gone
Please weep for me
Grieve to see
The loss
Take that pain
Knowing I will not
Come again
and channel it in to
being a kinder you
and cherishing those
who still remain

Stand silent stand still
Don’t think and don’t feel
Don’t fidget at all
And you will get paid
Security shift ****
At this bank

She sleeps now
With her wilted roses
And crooked
Cracked sidewalk
Such a broken walkway
Gentle gardener hands
And piano fingers
Plant and play no more

She sleeps now
With her wilted roses
And crooked
Cracked sidewalk
Such a broken walkway
Gentle gardener hands
And piano fingers
Plant and play no more

It is the soul of the night that devours me. Hours spent in silence frightens, enlightens, and bores me. Nature spins in all her soft cool glory. Little pools of water lit by lamplights. Cold fences swing in and out in time to the shifting masses of shift workers. Trucks come and go at random intervals. I am tired, so deep in the fatigue that I require crippling amounts of caffeine. I am a stimulant fiend. Barely functioning as me, more like a specter of me. I watch the world from my comfy shack, letting it spin me back. Dipping in the solace of solitude, I search the universe for truth. Eyes cast everywhere, mind running wild, I ask the night for answers. Its silence says, find it yourself.

Do not make
The mindless masses
Your moral arbitrator
Think don’t just act
And forget about
Your actions later

It is an altar
Of altered skin tones
People prostrate
Themselves
In front of
The mirror
Trying to mirror
Fake reality stars
Forgetting what real
Role models look like
The good guys
Who made art with heart
Set pen to higher purpose
But consumer queens
Who have been digitally remastered
Get more action
Then the masters
How many people
Remember Percy Shelley
Or Michael Landon
Two ages apart
Two different hearts
Who would not abandon
Humanity
Two voices in the desert
One Romantic Poet
And one Tv actor
Hearts held high
They do not lie
But your new age heroes
Breed greed
Sell self interest
I miss that
Age of curiosity
And generation
Of compassion

Welcome to the me society
Look at me
Give me
Me technology
That builds a bubble of biasness

I want
I should have
Without giving back
Without sharing that
Which makes us human

But I want
To live to see
An us society
What can we do
To make life better
For our brothers
And sisters

All hail the return of the romantics
New age sages that fight consumerism
Poets that ride the roads like Kerouac
Going home then farther back
To old poets who fathered that
Rich traditions of humanity
With deep thoughts and sweet abstractions
Before dull poets and their dumb factions
Demanded we stick to form
Then demanded formlessness
Casually pursued simplicity
For the lack of eloquence
Thought they had to write to lesser men
Not figuring that we are them
And by writing truth we
Keep them growing
By showing the full strength and beauty
Of this brutal language
We all evolve
Till we are romantics one and all

Time is the bullet
That penetrates us
From all directions
Holes
We dig
Trying to fill it
Putting loss
In rows of monuments
While life takes
*** shots
Each moment
Has got us
Moving farther
Away from birth
And closer to
Our own hole in the ground
And the bullets pass on
To the next generation
As they to dance in
The crossfire

Love is a landfill
Filled with landmines

And I am a gun shy
Guy
Tip toeing through
The garbage to
Get to you

But one wrong step
I am rejected
Feet slip
The mine is tripped

I am shredded
Once compelled by hope
Now I am impaled
On shrapnel

And with each beat
The metal gets deeper
The more I love
The quicker I die

Till the lonely guy
Learns how to not love
And each little death
Helped him decide
He needs to be by himself
Rather than committing love suicide

It is this world that makes me weep
Broken bodies and burnt babies
Exist in fiery moments
Then digital references
Etched in the bloodiest corners
Of humanity’s mind

And I find that I am to weak
Too tired to speak
To many thoughts to think
Ideas on how to link
That which is already connected

These invisible strings
How you forget them
Denying that we are part of a collective

Violence is a ****** wound
I stick my finger in
Pulling out viscera
And making paint brushes
Canvassing all the horrors
So you can see the sick splatter art

So you can feel what it is like
When warm becomes cold
When soldiers do what they are told
Without questioning
Playing
With the video game
Bomb dropping
Remote control plane

I cry
A less tempered metal
Melted flesh
That matches this madness
Holding your hand
And hoping
Something of me
Infects the essence of you
With love, peace, hope,
And understanding

You think you know anguish?
You do,
and every time you hurt
I am standing next to you.

With every jagged stained glass tear
that cuts across you tortured skin
bleeding equal part what’s out
to what you keep putting in,
I am watching you.

My kin, dear brother and sister
unevenly met
in the dark places
that I have not visited yet
but I am always close by

When the cold concrete
is your winter pillow
and pneumonia coughs
liquefy your lungs
till, you puke fear and despair
I am there.

When the bomb blast
shakes the very core
of your family values
and your shadows
are more real
then those who were killed
cause remembering
is the worse nightmare of all
just know
I am walking two steps behind.

When your face was red
wearing welts of her rage
bruises and broken ribs
stifling your breaths
while you wished for death,
I was on your shoulder
looking through your eyes
loving you,
wanting to comfort,
and understand you
and the ones who hurt you to.

So, maybe
my light can banish the violence
and joy can spring anew
letting all of you
join me.

Breath in
All that you were
All past selves
That link themselves
Through each moment
To now

Breath out
Now
As it is

Breath in
All hopes
And plans
For tomorrow
with all
Future selves

Breath out
Now
As it is

Breath in
The endless
Universe
Of why not
How come
And what if

Breath out
Now
As it is
And let
All that
Other stuff go
If only for
These few
Short sweet
Breathes

For you I bleed poetry
As the red depths flow from my wrists
Words that strive and persist
To touch your heart
Mastering metaphorical starts
That drain as I strain
To purge pain from my brain
Passion shortens the strings of my life
But fate can wait because I am a fire alive
I bleed poetry for you
Scratching the deep dark wounds
Exposing the scars that used to keep me bound
Until the light of expression was found
This journey can hurt like a knife in the eye
But that pain is the juice that helps me to write
I bled for you, fed on truths to help you through
And when I cease to do what I do
That will be the day when you know
That the shadow of life has been expunged from my soul
Remember, I loved you with poetry

Shadows form and flicker
Bodies moving in the night
Her presence lingers on my mind
Impression of her hand in mine
The smell of her strawberry breath
I awake and even the conscious thought of her is gone
Only in dreams can I see her
Only in slumber do I know her

When I am in pain
Time is a thief
With thick fingers
Squeezing every droplet
From my beating heart

When I am happy
Time is a thief
With nimble fingers
Stealing the moments
That will never come again

When I am angry
Time is the *****
That is ******* me off

And when I am apathetic
I wish that time
Was the greatest thief
So it could steal me
Away from myself

You tore our planet to pieces
Ripped up the land with your strife
Civil wars, and genocides
Snuffed out all that potential life
Creating a void that no light can pierce

With your war and consumerism
You closed but increased the distance
Between rational human beings
Stirring the masses on to
Mass extinction
Despite my pleading, crying, and screaming
Leaving me voiceless in obscurity
In the name of fake security
And false promises of prosperity

Oh, my dear humanity
If I could have died for this lost cause
I would have
But you have
Even managed to deny me that sweet mercy

I have been walking two lines converging on crazy
And what comes out could be dangerous or amazing
The poet, pretender to philosopher’s crown
Dark comedic angel in a deep demonic town
No magic, no spells, or special pills
Will solve the problem or change how we feel
I having been dreaming awake living to take
Absorbing the truths, the lies, and the mistakes
Duality is natural confusion to be expected
Course changes without maps till the maps have been corrected
Road aren’t marked and will probably never be
But I still have to struggle and share what I see and believe
There are shadows at night, darkness in the light
A speck of spurious people so curious that they might
Figure something out, may understand what this is about
Before I even finish this line in this poem
May die before I ever get the chance to know them
Though they sparkle and shine with human brilliance
May be slaughtered by vile corporate slash political villains
Marching with marked up manifestoes puffed up with pride
Pushing past boundaries built from the inside
Borders of nations, and faith erased, with me, one little man
Trying to help hasten this great geniuses plan
Lifting up armies of artist living to spread universal love
Raising families millions of miles away isn’t that tough
Great ideas sneak up on societies and start swallowing them whole
All we need to do is let go of the illusion of control
Get rid of the fools who think they know better than the rest
Keep open minds from being tortured or repressed
What is beautiful exists in everybody’s spiritual body
The spark of potential that no science or religion can control or copy
So we the children of love living on this plane of atomic vibrations
**** on the sweet milk baring *** of social inspiration
We work the wills of the world into the motion of our desire
We spread the words of change like a raging forest fires
No one can stop the ripples across the water once they have started
And no one but us can heal the sphere of the broken hearted

Blueberry brains with baked banana muffins
Artists do doodle and strain to abstain
From the tragic fallacies of the rational brain
Childlike wonder left under the covers
Adults will never see such joy again
And I oh so fool hardy so full of malarkey
Walk between both worlds my friend
Popping in and out again and again
Trading tears for fears and tripping on dreams
Making masterful failures of all of my schemes
Adult or child, neither or so it would see

I am grateful
For the long grass
That bends with the wind
I am grateful
For the quiet night
I am grateful
For inspiration
I am grateful
For my twelve hour shift
When my twelve hour shift ends
I am grateful
For good sleep
I am grateful

Who could love a poet when a soldier would suffice
To warm the weary winter frostbitten bitter nights
To protect them from the wolf howling at the front door
And dare in dark and dangerous nights to explore
The ****** savagery of lust unencumbered on the floor
Who could love a poet for he is living in his words
Mind made up about the stuff no one has ever heard
Is he wicked, morbid, or only mildly disturbed
Yes, the lonely lovely poet no one has ever heard
Who could love a poet when a savage gets them hot
And though poets be full of passion savages they are not
Bumbling buffoons barreling through bottles of bourbon
Sharing sips of sanity to get through all the worthless working
You like him don’t you that mindless barbarian
That ****** with a rifle and the sickness he’s been carrying
Who could love a poet when desire makes them blind
Now years have passed mistakes become cemented in time
Bruises and broken bones, barely scratch the surface
In your heart you lost the spark and nothing can return this
Then you will love the poet, with words to sooth your soul
To satisfy that empty crater that you refuse to show
That hole dug deeper than anyone could truly know
You will love the poet then, but only the poetry will be left

Her beauty is unattainable
As I stretch myself taring at
The thin ****** strings that hold me back
The visor painted completely black
The horrible buildup of ear wax
And the ****** brown wash rag mouth gag
That makes me deaf, blind, and mute
While killing my sense of humor and hope
in one fell swoop to boot

Picture your pain in a plastic pouch
Put it away till it’s lost like change in your couch
Maybe you’ll miss all this aching
Maybe you’ll be better for the loss
Maybe you won’t ever really rally past it
Maybe your pain is like plastic
Elastic and ready to snap back on you
Perhaps you can send the couch to the cleaners
Perhaps they will take all the pain you were saving
Wash it in foamy suds or dry clean it
Perhaps you should have just thrown it away

I am a selfish *****
But man I need that ****
Bleeding hearts
Can only drain so much
Till I become
So freaking numb
I can’t be a saint
Cause I need to have some fun

Turquoise children
In the field
Like some acid trip
Or *** plant with a low yield
Purple flowers
Prancing posies
Posing in the summer wind
Dandelions
Yellow flowers
Over there is were
Beauty begins

Could we break it down to an algorithm
Brain chemistry working like mathematics
Measured and predicted with perfect precision
Calculating the chemistry down to the last molecule
Timing the firing with pharmaceutical accuracy
Flip a switch to fix that ****
So pain only exists if you want it
Machine men and women
Flesh formed robots
Modern nanobots
Becoming more assembly line
Then we already are at this time
Sure, but let’s not

It is a testimony to humanity
That like the sun that warms us
There a few good souls among us
Who seek to light our path
To a better, brighter world

It is a poets job to feel what we never felt, to be where we never were, and see what we never saw.

Under rain the green leaves weep
Rich with life
Still the sobbing will not keep
Her sadness softens brown earth
Feeding the soil soothing the dirt
Under weird blues and grays
Strange hues still fill these days
Soft drum beats upon my skin
Ba dump ba dump ba dump
Like my heart always beating
In a strange rhythm
Always falling from outside
But I feel it deep within

To all those I have lost
I am sorry that I was not there
To hold your hand
Hear your last words
And ease you gently
Into the arms of oblivion
And though you are gone
I still type these words
Hoping that when it is my turn
Someone will do for me
What I failed to for you