Tag: Future

Poetry · Writing

sometimes;

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i have dreams

sometimes there simple

like tacos at that place down the street

on everything, they bomb.

don’t let it be a tuesday

ill transform into the road runner

and meet meet you there.

most of the times

i think about changing the world;

sometimes small,

like opening chick fil la on Sunday,

i’m sure i could start a political campaign off that one

most of the times,

i want to create something that enhances the mind

that makes others want to create

something the next kid can love

and grow up to rinse and repeat.

sometimes; i’m spiderman

but usually i’m me;

writing at a desk

with a half read book

playing digital chess

and a half eaten sandwich

Poetry · Writing

trojan horse

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we fall

we rise

we find each other at the bottom

it’s not where we started but we here

here at a fountain;

throwin’ dimes

wishin’ for a miracle:

feedin’ weedin’ threw the muk at the bottom

can i get a dolla fifty?

fifty begging for air

yet

we got here

out of the weeds

through the open doors

into a day

where we could breathe fresh air

where the mornings are filled with jelly toast and cartoons

where the nights are not filled with open prayers and sealed letters

and this is Troy

Poetry · Writing

silver medal

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there is no where to escape

all exits are blocked

and i hold my hands

wishing on a star that i’m not acquainted with

not yet;

for an answer

the pedestal is so lonely

second; third is a ghost

and first, first is somewhere else

here and no crowd or medals

just a box with white chalk numbers.

no one would believe me;

with all these opened doors

they never checked the locks

no one remembered those nights wandering

smoke in the air – silence

no one remembers the phone calls they never got

dialed and hung up dialed and hung up dialed

just to hear an answering machine

to feel the chills down your spine-

no one talks about it.

so we just sit on a couch a ghost, the one who got away

and me, a silver medal

Poetry · Writing

first floor – second deck hall of a balcony still under construction

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i only can picture you

not in a frame or a scrapbook

a memory;

where we all live

in harmony dancing on the first floor

our favorite floor

the song- our song

the one that hasn’t been written

it’s our favorite,

and you’ll hold me

run your fingers through my hair;

(you know i love that shit)

you know i love you

since the moment i saw you

that song began

my- our favorite

on this first floor

of this safe place

Poetry · Writing

lonely chamber

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i believe you only get one

one real shot

at changing the way the world spins;

so will wait

finger on the trigger

eyes pierced into a lens

sweat falling off my brow

ancy as fuck

watching the fire;

knowing there is only one in the chamber-

it won’t come back i’m not ms. jolie

so i have to make this count-

this world wasn’t meant to spin

counter clockwise

Poetry · Writing

witch before time

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hard to picture time before you-

where the sky fell before the earth

where did people drown in sorrow before tears

and before wells carried life

before the nights ran long without the warmth of the son;

the son- before the earth

i see an island with a single tree

a flag with a crab

and a witch

cooking a dinner for two

alone