Poetry · Writing

space in the world;

i find comfort in solace

to retreat to my corner write a rhyme

it is an organized crime, murder- right before bedtime

yet

solace is never kept lonely

i carved my space in this world built on fiction

i will not blame anyone for not being real

made it myself love the appeal

check on the time but that is not real

blood on the walls carved from stainless steel-

solace is my emergency contact

it knows i exist

just never picks up

 

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Poetry · Writing

god of song

i prayed once-

like a message in a bottle i threw it in an ocean of many

they clinked together like after a toast-

or a prayer

i do not know if they will ever get to mine or which god answers the phone

maybe it is like the lotto system and we are all on hold

waiting for our number to be called like the dmv;

the bottle was ordinary but the paper was special

out of a journal with muses on the cover

thought they would get a laugh out of that-

whatever god; he she it just know i was in a dark place

darkened scribes on a windy night

saying hello to the moon inches from a fall-

i would not bother you guys

if it was not important

was hoping to get into the priority lane

but i have missed church a few hundred times so i get it

just need something to go right-

anything;

Poetry · Writing

cozy k’night

she said she missed the old me-

the one with the funny jokes

and the unbreakable smile

never hanging from rope just above the tile

the version of you that never updated

who told stories of full hearts

standing- never wavered

now tells stories of death through fine arts

sit high like a king with his chalice

and below his subjects full of malice

switched from meat to salads

bought a case of m light and you were at wine palace

remember when we dropped acid-

where – did – you – go

( who walks in the shadows of your once peculiar self, the tepid demons haunt and talked their way into your skin to walk a path of coal never meant for your loving feet- they trashed you and colored your eyes green so you can profit and all i- we want is to banish and summon the cozy knight once more )

Poetry · Writing

Perfecto

“The life you live is more important than the words you speak.”

-Mac

 

Chasin’ perfect and on the surface

I look so fine but really I’m

been runnin’ round missin’ makin’ somethin’ out of nothin’

 

catch twenty one- first time

I caught time it was fine until the lines

broken the goldmine. Please- stay a minute

will leave these spacesuits and fall back down

before you give me the boot. Curing clocks

just a gearbox we made to give a day meaning

just the same repeating all on coarse-

crash landing right on schedule to wake me from this faithful dream-

perfect.

Poetry · Writing

Fight The Feeling

“They’re gonna try to tell you no, shatter all your dreams. But you gotta get up, and go and think of better things.” – M

 

Breathe- never fight it just let life in

an empty map not to mark it would be a mortal sin

meet your twin

out livin’ laughin’ makin’ love till the season changes

and it ranges but she is an angel

makin’ life worth lovin’ she told me

you can’t fight the feeling

never wasted moments been at my lowest

left with your condolence my own opponent

endless roaming and never frozen

but I was chosen through self demotion

can’t feel emotion just want to live on the ocean

through all the commotion I can hear her say-

you can’t fight the feeling.

you can’t fight the feeling.

 

Poetry · Writing

when asked when to love;

never put much stock in the market

wanted to

be the standout price or waited for one to find me

silly or asleep

being to bee but always the worker never the queen

crying fiend

two types and always the catcher catching when you fall

standing tall

call when you say you miss me always nearby you make me wanna

be a good guy

when you say i love you i know the time is right now

here somehow

markets closed now lesson learned when asked when

now and then

time and again the one will find you and never a minute ahead

Poetry · Writing

Beach House

I have people in my life

that I see myself growing old with.

The love of my life, yes.

I’ve had the same few people here,

since day one. I see us,

living in a beach house.

No cloudy forest or

haunted houses

a beach house playing bridge;

I’ve never played but we will learn.

I see you guys their,

and it’s something I take for granted

because you’ve always been

like a shadow following me it’s always been there

like warmth in the summer and cold in the winter

I can see that beach house.

Not the place,

but the memories.

People come and go-

some pay rent and stay a little longer

but as the tides rise the only ship

to test time was this friendship.