Poetry · Writing

brunch

a cheese danish:

all the walls with the same wallpaper

found probably a walmart just like the paint

built in the 70’s, an older building on a newer street

a record among headphones

word processor among laptops

a cheese danish among iced coffee;

an older soul; at this foam party

more cardigans then sentences

yeah, i counted,

counted all the stars on the wall

the phones in hands

waiting;

waiting for tomorrow to wipe away this old building

these old records

but not this cheese danish;

i am gonna eat this

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Poetry · Writing

two person show;

i love talking to you;

somedays it is a ball of laughter

snowballing down an avalanche sized memory.

the next will be at each others throat

the next time we see each other

be at each others throat.

the next will be asleep in each others arms

loving and dining taking turns

learning and performing

for the days to come

Poetry · Writing

good ol’ days

i changed the channel with my mind

i remember when instagram was only food

these seemed liked the hay days

not challenged working through a maze

but here we are;

i went with that 70s show,

when i changed the channel with my mind,

they portray a similar time

everyday was the good ol days

they never strayed far

and always had a good time;

i usually went with a burger,

for instagrm,

reminded me of home

on a warm summer day

in a turtle shaped pool

Poetry · Writing

sometimes;

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

rocks and stars

i wonder why you wait;

on hands and knees

for the rocks to shift into stars

once the star has fallen, it’ll never glow

rise, it might shine for a day

roll around in the mud

but return.

oh baby you’re the star everyone wants

but no one can be

glowing steadily

wishing for a god

to bring your star back

she’ll listen

but not even she

can bring back what has fallen

Poetry · Writing

honey flavor

it is a need

without second guessing or thinking

hands lay in yours

head in your lap

everything on the table

no where to hide

all on the line-

vulnerable;

in the eye of a lion,

weak and exposed,

in the eye of you

i found something new-

safety in fear

fear that this is a dream

a dream i never want to wake from

Poetry · Writing

rating and reason

to hate;

i hate that i see it through these lens

with a rating and reason

never a smile and love.

bashing ripping tearing

screaming what do you mean

down a shallow hall

sending it back like a fastball.

instead of putting up your feet

having a beer

watching the game

laughing,

prison built of habits

guards wearing suits of routine

leaving the building on a scholarship of toxic purpose;

the one who judges

master of soup tasting

Poetry · Writing

bubbles in this bitch;

rising tides higer bars loving times

they could never beat you;

they rubbed sand in your eyes

and you blinked in there face

bitch-

they can’t keep you down

your standards let them know that they are all clowns

probably should have inserted another noun

but it is what it is

the money makin’ ms

when you take the pop quiz

all the answers are b for back that shit up

i’m about to blowup

take a picture beacuse your makeup

could never look this good buttercup

blow bubbles on them babe

hit them with your cape

they are all just lesser apes

that gave up on their dreams.

i feel bad for them.

Poetry · Writing

loading screen

adventures- here

gather around, this will take only a second

stop counting it’s a figure of speech,

you will lose.

respawn again and again

you weren’t the first

and won’t be the last

and it is okay.

the start screen isn’t the end

or the beginning

it’s today