Poetry · Writing

choking gale

you talked

and i walked

i’d never let the air between us

hold our throats hostage

suffocate that will-

it’s the last thing;

i’d never;

most of the time i stutter and mutter

and wonder what’s on your mind

for i’m on the moon and i’d never leave you behind

fixating on tonight

i’m not a white knight

too many stains from rain

shooting through my brain

like i lost game seven an champagne

is rainin’ down-

it’s the last;

never.

Poetry · Writing

What’s the Use?

They say you’re nothing without it-

they haven’t seen it win a little

makin’ money wasn’t so lonely

feedin’ kitties wasn’t so phoney

look how far – we – came

can never shed that blame

just want another minute wit’ it

you can leave it, you can love it

they say you’re nothing without it-

so what’s the use?

fourth times the charm

here on my arm

when I had nothin’

shit was always so funny

made a promise to the honey

you’d never be lonely

you can love it-

just freaks – me – out

 

i just wanna fly

Poetry · Writing

program: one way

just a program

tied hands and a panel for a face,

booted,

running

running

smashed escape until deleted

mind sweeper;

facebook for two hours

kayla got a puppy

that she stole from her ex boyfriend tyler

like, it was totally awesome

running

running,

buzzfeed quizes

i am the king of the north

micheal jordan

micheal scott

moon walkin’ skywalkin’

running,

and it’s black-

reminded the processor exist at your will

the fan comes to a swirling halt

and it’s quiet

Poetry · Writing

mayor of today-

every little sweet picture

every little diction

on trial while promoting

voting for office-

all eyes on me;

figure eight on the side of my brain

reign over my body

and i don’t sell the tickets-

they’ll challenge but i won’t shrivel

the sight of fright won’t make me swivel

and we will

stand up together and give an acceptance speech

to have a say over yourself

Poetry · Writing

seventh club

the experience breaks fear-

found the experience at the tip of a card

now knives break against my skin

folding full houses and straights down the drain

but my knees still shake in the rain

quivering at the memories

traded for guilt

measured in nightmares,

at the tip of the card was a jack,

and now inside this club

try to scrub this sleep clean

before the fear breaks loose

Poetry · Writing

martin

perish.

the back of a billboard read- perish.

lined in black paint and red letters

the chalk outline read- perish.

i didn’t know martin- that’s what i decided to call him

for he has no name other then- perish.

a lasting snapshot across two metal pipes

a slapshot in my memory filed under- perish.

i wrote in my journal to make sense of it;

to find lines to read between to justify time of life

and it all doesn’t just round up to- perish.

so i’ll give him a line, the least i can do

too see that red and black paint

didn’t erase your name

but will live on in mine,

a statue called-

perish.