Wednesday, February 29, 2012


He looks at me
And thinks that this hat
Is just part of my outfit
Today.
Really, gaydar should
Say more.  

Tuesday, February 28, 2012


Tonight.
Tonight I wished,
Am right now,
Wishing.
Wishing for something
Different,
Totally opposing,
That which I have spent
So very many wishes upon

Monday, February 27, 2012


She's the one I thought
I saw
Flying out the window
In the middle of the night
What do you say
When your only love
Has said goodbye 

Friday, February 24, 2012


For the first time
I feel okay
For the first time
Muscles relax,
My mind is okay,
I nearly feel at peace,
Like I've wandered through
A desert,
Finally seeing an oasis.
Persecutor into apostle
A visionary, wandering
With encrusted fish skin
Falling from ocular lids.
Softened but cautious.
Hardened but delicate.

Thursday, February 23, 2012


We don't worry
Who is here
And who is not
We love them all
And wish them well
We know what we like
And we're pretty alright
With whatever you may like
Because all we do
Is sit and play music all day
Hit a bowl, drink a beer
Maybe, if we aren't persuaded
Otherwise
Go for a hike
We grow love
Like some grow
Tomatoes, tobacco
Or corn - in pretty
Little rows.  

Wednesday, February 22, 2012


To her eye
Above me, burying
Threatening to devour
A last tiny expanse of sky
Covering almost completely a
Would have been sunset.
And to her eye
It's not solitude of grey
On this night lacking
Accompaniment,
It is right with shades of blue,
Light wisps of rosy pink,
Dance on fields of dark grey;
Reflections from pavements
Of dim neighborhood streetlights,
And dark hues of deep violet,
Mix within her stare
She spends the rest of time
As the wardrobe covering the
Delicate vulnerable moon.  

Tuesday, February 21, 2012


Please distract me. 
Do anything,
To keep my thoughts here
Away from the awful places
They seem to love to go
Please distract me,
Make me feel something
Something other than nothing,
Something that may be real
Permit me to breathe again
Distract my gaze
From demons that dance
Around my mind, emblazed
Please distract me,
I've forgotten already
Again to inhale
I'm a prisoner bound to these chains
I don't know how to break
That always come back.
I want to jump. 
I want to jump.
I want to jump.
Leap from the top of a tall enough building
Somewhere downtown.
I want to jump
I want to jump 
I want to jump
Headfirst into a new life,
One where I didn't go to college,
All I do is write,
And I started making my way with it
With opportunities long ago,
Not telling myself not to do what I
Had always intended desired and been
More than apt to do. 
A life where I'm not almost thirty,
Homeless, friendless, family-less,
Where I didn't become dependent on
Coffee at 11,
Booze at 12,
Cigarettes at 13 and
Weed at 14. 
A life where I've got a wife
One that I deeply love,
A wife that reciprocates that back.
Where we have a home with a lovely garden
That I tend to,
With a baby on the way,
Not too much money,
But enough for a happy little home.
With a golden retriever named Sammy,
A big back yard for running.
A life where I'm not crazy,
A life where bridges and parking garages
Don't lure me into their lairs,
A life where I don't whisper
Bits of angry insanity just above
Beneath my breath,
Where self-annihilation
Doesn't guide my every move.
A life that doesn't make me
Question why I'm doing it every day,
Where I can see past today.
Where I'm not just a victim stuck in
The confines of time. 
One where I don't feel like such a
Waste of space and time
A life in which I haven't ruined my lungs
At the age of thirty. 
I want to jump
I want to jump
I want to jump.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Friday, February 17, 2012


Her complacency is glaringly apparent with
Every nod, accentuating a dull and vacant stare,
Oblivious to her surroundings,
Most don't notice,
But I can tell that she's barely even there.
Lost inside her mind,
Or another space or time. 

Thursday, February 16, 2012


Once upon a time,
When I was big and fat
With double chins
And an inner tube around my waist
Boys wouldn't glance my way,
Or see me as a human being
And if they did,
I knew it was just friendship
And it is funny now to see
How they all stare and gawk at me
Because my chubby figure
Has disappeared
And left in trail,
A curvy hourglass,
At which they love to stare.
Conversations are initiated,
By men who once would look through,
And I know it's not depth but shallowness
They are excited to pursue,
For they care not for my life's adventure,
They care not for my formulated
Ever-changing opinion,
They especially care not about the fact that
I much prefer girls in bed,
And always try to weasel their
Pathetic little penises into a
Three way situation,
To which I roll my eyes
And walk away.
As if two girls alone together
Felt any sort of lacking
That could only be fulfilled by
The male of the species. 
Sad, sad, excuses for human beings.  

Wednesday, February 15, 2012


Her notebook is paper.
Lined and college-ruled
And three hole punched
Inked lines in
Scribbled penmanship,
Her hand scribes her thoughts
In drags, scratches, and dots
As she squeezes the tip of a
Promotional ball-point pen
The kind that clicks it's tip out.
She meshes the
Inorganic against organic,
Ink filling a small percentage
Of an empty space to the end
And then the back of a page
And then on to the next,
With the weight of her words
My notebook is electronic,
Digital dabbling,
Open a program that will
Process my words for me,
Processed, my words are
PROCESSED.
Canned and bottled into nice
Block Arial lettering,
Neat and legible;
A perfectionist's wet dream.
Errors underlined in red squiggle
No lines, perfectly invisible lines
Ones that automatically capitalize
As I my fingers press the keys they know
As I communicate through a pushing of buttons
The screen glows bright snow white
With the weight of my words 

Tuesday, February 14, 2012


My heart is depleted
And I'm completely sure
That you care for me
But I'm also completely sure
That it is to the degree that 
I ultimately don't matter
My heart is a disposable commodity
It is the wrapper that your happiness came in
You've unsheathed it,
Used it,
Crumpled and thrown away
That which didn't seem to matter
But why would it?

Monday, February 13, 2012


I'm tired
And when I say that I am tired
I mean -
tired of life,
Exhausted from seeing the same things
Every day, Every year, Every season
The changes that are not changes
The changes that are mandatory,
Predictable and mundane,
And I write of the things that are
New and shimmer and glimmer
The things that are extraordinary
But there are none,
It is all ordinary,
It is all uneventful and sadly dull.  

Friday, February 10, 2012


The problem is that I have a hard time believing in anything at all
I find it difficult to invest in the ideas of those who swear they've
Asked the questions
And found their answers
They ask questions to which there is no solution
So I know that they lie
I know their gods are stories
Pictures of humanity
Visions of possibility
Imaginations to quell insecurities
Ideas that are not truths
Formed on the lips of soothsayers meaning to soothe
A universal aching that hurts so badly
Their pursuits clung to eagerly by masses and soul searchers alike
Speculation fitting pieces and space missing in a puzzle
A jigsaw that isn't there
A third eye, and spoken unknown tongue,
Grasping to climb invisible rungs. 

Thursday, February 9, 2012


My hair is
Blonde and silky
Velvet soft and fine to touch
Many illustrious strands
Together band
Composing long straight locks
You love to run your fingers through,
The soil that is my scalp,
Releases a steady harvest
Of healthy stalks
Into a pile on my pillow,
Clinging to the shoulder of my sweater,
Coalescing in the shower drain
Collaborating with dust bunnies beneath my bed
Lurking incognito on wooden floors and in carpeted rooms
Weaved together in militaristic union between
The bristles of a dilapidated hairbrush
That had once cost 99 cents at a discount store.   

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Drunk again, I sit at my computer
Type words without meaning
Type words without purpose
Sit down on a chair of empty promises and lies
Tune the radio to something less manufactured
Something a little more raw
Something that was created for the love of music
Not the love of money or radio time

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


Dark and dingy
Tattered and torn
Like a dumpster newborn
My soul is worn.

Monday, February 6, 2012


She meant to suggest that poets
Were songwriters
And songwriters were poets
And one may be the other
Sometimes I feel I am one
But never both
Because they are not each other

Friday, February 3, 2012


The beauty of today
Is that it is not yesterday
It has it's own rhythm and dance
Today is new and fresh,
Today will fade a bit more rapidly
Than yesterday had,
And so will tomorrow,
If we forget not to borrow,
More time than we have
And when it's gone away
The troubles and moments that were,
Fade with the suns rays
Before we know it has passed
When what is turned to what was

Thursday, February 2, 2012


The jazz is slow,
Painfully so.
Slide out the back way
Again, without paying my tab
No, on second thought,
I'll just stay,
Wait for whiskey and IPA
To carry my mind far away
Places my legs can't run
Waiting at least for dusk,
These eyes can't handle the sun
Sit here in an alcove, red, again
Washed up and done before I've begun
Kenny starts playing 'Wave'
And I start to fade
Like the sun outside this basement
Sinking into a distant Pacific
I'd go, but there's no place to be,
So, I just sit and listen to drums, piano, and cello
Sit and sip away my sorrows,
Letting go of my grip on hope for tomorrow.
The longer I linger, the longer I'm here,
The more I feel myself begin to disappear. 

Wednesday, February 1, 2012


The boys who cannot
Help their inquisition
Their unrequited attraction
The boys with their questions
Who cannot
Help their mystery filled daydreams
The boys who won't stop staring
Because they'll never know the answers
They may only ever by stand
And rarely observe
And forever yearn
To know the beauty of what it is
To be a goddess.