Tie it up pretty
with a ribbon,
curled by the edge
of sharp scissors
that should have
cut the string
rather than
encouraged a vain
sense of beauty
and gift giving
Tag: loss
Half of the Time
My heart’s only in it half of the time,
the other half fast fades away
but then for a bit, a moment sublime,
it goes along with the charade.
A bittersweet vision dancing in light,
a vision undoubtedly you,
but fast does it fade and try as I might
my world fades to a shade of blue.
Manifest Destiny
Long moments of time
spent looking off
into the
distance,
content
until the time
is hunted down
like buffalo–
temporary wall mounts
nowhere near the majestic
reality roaming free before
One Bad Thing
She never had
one bad thing to say
until she walked away
with this curse
upon her lips:
“May you get
exactly
what you want.”
When I Tried to Think of Her
The streets are wet with tears,
the roads dry with apathy.
At the intersection
there’s a yellow light
blinking at the speed
of dying dreams.
Above, above the radio chatter
is the singing stars,
coughing in the orange glare.
I walk along the gutter
and pass old friends and foes
in tandem.
It’s a long way but a short trip
and I haven’t seen you yet.
The Two Fools Waltz
Lonely together,
forever
with you
apart from each other,
apart from
the view
that’s happy, healthy,
and all that thereof,
lonely together
but madly
in love
“Almost”
No doubt in mind,
no second guess,
it is true love
the heart impressed.
And it did try
and oft succeeded
but “almost” was
what did defeat it.
Learn(ing)
. . .
then suddenly
it starts to make sense
it’s all over now
there’s no recompense
time didn’t stop
the world kept turning
and hearts can still break
still, that one takes learning
. . .
The Coffeeshop at the End of the World
My back is against the wall
but hey,
at least I can see
what’s coming to get me.
My back is against the wall
in the corner booth
of the coffeeshop
at the end of the world,
a constant midnight
illuminated by kitschy
signs and machines
fed in excess of quarters.
There’s a proper place
for the past, the present,
but my back is against the wall
with a flood of weak coffee
attempting to drown
it all.
There’s a limited menu here
at this hour, in the corner booth
with my back against the wall
at the coffeeshop
at the end of the world,
but no surprises
means no room is left for error.
It is error that brings one here,
error that keeps one here.
There’s little motivation apart
from the lukewarm water
that passes as coffee,
little solace in being against the wall–
a lot is coming to get me
but there are some who aren’t.
You won’t like my company,
the view is lacking,
the menu sparse,
the coffee terrible
but
if you found yourself here
then there’s an open seat here
at the end of the world
as we know it
Intimate Definition
I’m cautious using certain words
when crafting poems
since I have heard repeatedly
how great of a “love poem”
a certain piece is.
But friend,
aren’t they all love poems?
Who ever set in stone
that each one was and had to be
one of romantic love?
Are we not allowed friendship
in this vale of tears?
Are we not able to enjoy
the company of others
without the burning of flesh?
Aren’t all poems about love and lost love?
You can change its meaning
but it will not change;
love or leave
the intimate definitions.
The Unnecessary Blog 