Poetry · Writing

Self Care

Abandoned at the start

please, check me out

can’t see the ground

don’t fall out now boy, Peter Wentz.


We all started somewhere-

basement dweller cigarette seller

figure propeller this shit is so stellar- look,

mention the mansion on fourth, window shopping

you’ll never stop me I’ll buy with second guessin’

movin’ in on the fourth and the fireworks will follow- glow.


It’s different, believin’ in somethin’


and it wasn’t me.


Poetry · Writing


no matter where life takes me

you’ll find me with a smile

you touched a part of me

own man but you left your style

with me,

watched you take off

I knew it would all payoff-


still left in awe

still hasn’t hit me yet

still wake up and here you like you haven’t left me yet

let’s make a bet

you’re still smiling through all this shit

you were alone and I understand that shit

I know the feeling,

being surrounded and being alone

won’t pick up the phone

home was never a throne.


You left your mark,

Scott, Malcolm and Donald

I still hold you close

and you’ll never be far.

I borrowed your art and found mine

rewind, just a kid, looking for a world to hold


what a guy, blindfold-

and now I know it’s already mine

let it age like fine wine

I’ll never forget and that’s forever

truly the best day ever.

Poetry · Writing

Antiquated For Two

cause of concern-

two stages of loss and we found the list

at the bottom of the bottle.

two phases and they start the same

moving backwards;        –        chasing lost time

like it’s a shadow.

it’s only pain down that road-

I’ve seen it in the eyes of friends, enemies and the hungry

eyes that follow

tattooed on your arm.

stage two only exist,

to remind you that color


Poetry · Writing

Angel of Mine

chances are, you’ll find me in my dreams-

marked from head to toe in beauty

and you’ll carry me to bed.

chances are, if you don’t come,

I’ll find you- never truly rest

without your voice coaxing me to sleep

counting sheep.

you’re a blessing with those eyes-

petals of an opening tulip

your grace is a tidal wave of beauty,

hard to fall asleep with that image,

never waking from an embrace only described in scripture

she’ll find me.

pitter-patter across diamond tiles

she’s calling me

and I’ll come in a hurry

flurry, leaving traces of presence like the past

but I’ll wake up.

trying to reenter the door, revolver

blocked- I’ll be back tonight

it’s the best part of the day


Poetry · Writing

as the tides settle

I can’t shake

the days that we made those waves


even as the tides settle,

will splash and will sit there and wait.

The moon will shine and the dust will settle-

in the lull will feel full

sick and tired spinning like wool



is this the end? tired on the beach listening to Gamb

is this 3005? picnic and the tides still settle-

but not me, waving arms like gym class

heroes will be up late

making their own waves.


I can’t shake this feeling that first wave

was only the beginning- and the big one is coming.

Poetry · Writing

Something Simple

What happens after you know


when you know that you’re all I think about

when I’m writing it’s you on the paper

when I’m drawing it’s you in my eyes

it’s further then falling- I’ve crashed and holding onto you for air


what happens when you know

I only want to spend time with you

pick up markers from the store and write it on every surface

and it’s your face I can’t seem to shake


it’s not an illness but a blessing

to be in your presence I know I know

I’ve never taken it for granted

counting the seconds till you return

what happens when you know I check the watch on and off as many times as my eyes                                  blink


what happens when I tell you I just want to come home to you;

something simple- maybe a roast just a few jokes and will fall asleep

isn’t that the dream- have it every night

waking up to some toast and a fresh pot

but you’re all the energy that I need-


I pause, does this make me weak-

or answering the higher calling

that I can be stronger each and every week

as a we.


what happens when you know I want to want to wait for you down the aisle-

watch you worry about every step but never look down,

freezing cold hands but never look down


it’ll be okay because I’m not afraid-

it’ll be okay because you’re still reading and not running for the hills-

it’ll be okay because I’ve never looked down.

Poetry · Writing


it’s not enough to go the distance-

you need to plan further,

roadblocks and finish lines are the same thing.

chances are you’ve worked your ass-

climbed to the top and seen the godly view from above

and forgot those underneath

you’re not alone, other do the same

some stay below to remember the Earth

to scared to chase the checkered flag-

if this is the end, where is the goal

the mound the cheers the trophy

or do we all get participation ones-

Poetry · Writing

Kicking Dust

rapture and unload-

finger to hives

will dress to the nines

attend our own funerals-

say our best wishes-

know the person laying before is never the one wearing death in his eyes

never looking back

featured on our tats

still have marks to leave

not enough to settle

brake eye contact-

leave yourself to the dust

brushing off the old

stepped off the casket

never felt the cold breathe under the heels of yesterday

and the sun never felt so fresh.

Poetry · Writing

Massacre of ’09

I never want to be a villain-

casted out like Hanks

sitting like a gargoyle


Words sharp

the knife kept clean-

but they remember;

The massacre of 09

and they see the monster from that time

but the wolf skin has been shed

sheep just like you-

but they see the wolf.

Sheep skin is expensive;

daily upkeep


chasing idle sheep through marked forest.

can lose it all-

moving through the fields,

fangs left hanging

and they ran to tell the masses

they’ll plaster my face on every brick

they’ll never forget me.