I challenge

all of you tonight-

to not settle for something less than perfect.

the food you eat

the gas you pump

the perfect catch on a cold river day with your son’s gentle eyes holding you in the highest regard.

Try it. It might click-

we should shoot for the five out of five

the dream

the top restaurant in the city

the trillest party

the perfect kiss.

We live these dreams

through our media

tell ourselves its scripted

real life flips channels faster.

Go out-

find the perfect tacos

paint-

tell the person that you can’t get out of your head that your sick of them running through your head

where are you

what are you doing.

 

I plead- try.

It won’t work all the time-

you’ll miss the train

lose your wallet

fall into a puddle.

You know, the scene where the girl dumps the guy and his life is over?

that’s that moment.

but take that moment

to appreciate that you tried to achieve

and try again soon.

it’s out there- I know it is-

I want to share it with you

the perfect pancakes

the sun rising with crimson red and orange orange behind a photo lens

the night that person calls you back.

It’ll be worth it-

accept my challenge

and I can’t wait to hear about your perfect day.

I use lines and metaphors to hide

something real-

it’s hidden in the words

deep between the pages

and everyone finds something different.

Love, death-life, or a stress free image to carry them off to sleep-

sleeping in the comfort of my tree house hiding

from what is real-

keeping in what made me who I was-

the lines and the metaphors convert

the troubles and the texture of daily wear

into something

tolerable.

I could tell you my day was shit

or that the Nile came past my knees and swept me away before being rescued by a somber of breath.

It’s safe in this tree house-

built with pages of forgotten poems and fiction ideas

characters that crawl in my dreams

turning them into nightmares.

I want to stay here-

they don’t deserve this life-

freedom is what my children need

I’ll swim the Nile for them-

break down these trees that supported my fears

and housed my heart.

It grew in the matter of days.

Out of control vines

a strangle hold

a choke hold

autopilot.

Flight with turbulence-

dips and dives into ground

lost over the Atlantic

found in the Winter.

chasing-

not a hard chase-

but I won’t let you go

even as the plane passes by overhead and I’m crashing down below.

 

maybe you’re crashing too-

maybe the sea will break my fall.

 

we don’t have to eat at Chicks

we can meet at Cane’s down the street

don’t give up the chase

lets meet up and get something to eat.

but I’ll go alone-

it’s not the end of the world my friends

I’ll shake it off and bury it-

but here I won’t pretend.

Make believe on the eve I’ve seen your eyes

on my wrist

and they’ll tell it all

that this world is ours.

Buried-

the shovel won’t go to far

the Earth won’t let it

just rest quietly in a grave for one.

the morning is coming-.

and that’s not good enough.

The magic hides on a hill North from here

and it waits.

The porridge and eggs in the morning

it’s fine for those looking to stay sheltered from the storm

but why.

Hiding from the extra beauty and adventure

is lying to yourself.

Feeding yourself

triumph these mountains yourself-

wasting time on the comfort of knowing

what will happen tomorrow

that is enough for some

the window watchers

and the bench riders.

Don’t play their game.

Explore, live- try

to see the colors on the other side and experience

truth.

For him it’s North- for you

maybe closer.

Yet, will applaud those with the safe option-

not everyone has that on the menu-

but when it’s there, promise me,

you’ll chase that magic-

it doesn’t reveal itself

to everyone.

a charade funeral

just to see if anyone would

show.

validation that time well spent was

well-

well enough to leave timed marking on the Earth

and few cheap roses.

he’ll stand in the back-

in zero eyes

and he’ll watch.

some close-

some making appearances to say they came to clear an unclear conscious-

only to go home and finish the bottle they’ve been working on

since the sun rose.

a couple of lovers- a few that brought their new children

a few that remember the good times

a few that wish they never stopped.

a brother who couldn’t keep it together

he still carries around the toy guitar key chain he got on Christmas-

tight in a clutch today.

he’ll make note of those that didn’t show

those that couldn’t say goodbye

those strong enough too-

a ghost with a pen.

the service was garbage-

but no one cared-

they cried with a memory in their mind

and words they never spoke in their heart.

sitting in the bottom of a well

and the light is my anchor.

holding me together and holding me down-

the slightest of rope will tingle down-

and be ripped away.

the light- looks perfect from here

a land explored and forgotten

a chance to stand and create for the martyrs.

soft to the touch

skin so vacant the air marked as trespassing

contact of these cold bricks is the warmth

of the sun and quiet of the moon

all in a convenient place.

The rope will return-

dangle and pull

the climb is always short-lived

before cut down.

the links of time crawl like worms around my toes

and I’ll shove them down my throat

to taste what could be-

before death can come near the rope will return

and dangle.

 

swear it. by the old and the new

will walk through this fire and shred

the common like sheep in Winter.

trials of the eel never taint the old way

but bring promise to the new

stings of truth in gorge of the outer rim

taste the fruit of our adventure

swear it. and i’ll ride along side

until the grey rules the mane above my brow

and the eyes sink towards the Earth

the old will rise along the moon

and the new will rule this world

as we did.

swear it. and I’ll curse this time

with one last try

in your lying goodbye

till our time runs dry.

two different people at the controls

mayhem and madness-

fourth of july is a prayer before dinner.

Tighten your hold

sweet embrace

I saw you on that stage

you touched a part of me

and I was trying to hide.

You shine and retain

every in of beauty you bless

us basic humans with

eyes that will touch deep

deep in our palms.

Yet, you isolated me

stranded in an oasis with

Aphrodite’s twin

touch of an angel

lips you’ll remember in deaths game.

and you’re still here.

Layer and layer of high beams

and you’ll prop me up,

and I’ll do the same

and will hold this planet up to our heels

existing in two different point

of time

Flash Point.

Barry won’t destroy this one

more than I already did.

No regrets though right-

can’t look one way and cross the other

two-way street   came to find cover

let alone finding a peace of mind

stay on my mind

you know you do.

living for today

but seeing yesterday

in my rear view mirror

truly closer than it appears

warning signs

ain’t no such thing as Satan

evil is what you make it.

Preach.

Hott gospel in one

and out the other-

just a memory

and I’ll still be here while they burn

in the back of mind with shrilled evil

one at a time.