You said there was enough left when there was none.
I started on this journey, and now I can’t turn back.
Why did you do it? You know I am not the one to blame.
You push my buttons and make me so angry.
I’ll never understand why you said there’s
sugar when the bowl is empty.
Category: Poetry
Wild beauty
She challenges me to
climb her walls and
touch her many places.
I could spend a lifetime
moving and feeling
my way through her soul.
Her wild beauty keeps me
still, as I contemplate
the part of her wild whole.
She is the land, the oceans
and the sky, yet I am
the lover of this part of her.
Imaginary Drug
You’re like a drug when
I watch you on the screen.
You make me believe I
could fall in love with a block
of unkempt cheese.
Dude, how did you do it
to yourself and me?
Unattainable folks with cash
and bad haircuts,
but you’re a bit nonplussed.
My feet tingle as you hold
that piece of plastic in your
hand, but how old are you?
You’re fucking the cardboard box
of my life with a blunt knife,
yet I don’t care how you do it.
Continuing to undress in irony
or act like you are the ultimate corporation as you place your name on every plaque.
Whatever the case, Dude, you’ll be using a walker soon enough, and I’ll be wishing I’d said something nice to the lady down the road before she died from a pinprick.
Longing
I often lament the endings.
Crying on the couch, thinking how much I would miss you.
What would happen if you died and I lived?
What would happen if I died and you lived?
The last glimpse of you is like the sea;
I’m always longing to be close to you again.
White Elephant
You treated love like a possession.
Each love left you heartbroken.
Your broken heartbeats slow;
reduced to a white elephant.
Shadow Soul
In the quiet of the night,
I hear the whispers faint.
There are created noises,
but there’s the noise of it.
Images of what once was,
but now is something else.
The noises do grow louder,
as my pounding head spills.
Your shadow soul calls,
so I move to your ghost.
In the quiet of the night,
I kiss your corpse lightly.
In a Forest
Standing alone as
clouds move across the shy sky,
thinking of the way
the forest is like your soul
when the snow falls on me slowly.
Brushies
his plush dark mane
she brushes it so ardently
to soften the rough spots within
The Chef
A lawyer with a deep love for cooking and longing for sunshine cooks when he can.
Sad and overworked, he pools all his funds into what he loves, quits his job, and becomes a Chef.
No more nasty Principals with red pens; now it’s vanilla slices, beef burgundy, and banging the sexy waiter.
Your Words
shoot your words
like a poisoned dart
pierce my heart
C & K 