Writing, Ideas, & Stories
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
i see tomorrow in your eyes
as i stare deep into the morrow
hands entangled
stars spangled
this is freedom;
i see shadowless plains
flowers in vases
paintings of cotton candy
a type writer by the window
newspapers on the table-
i sometimes see neighbors
i sometimes see a river;
a stream and a swing under a tree
free from social pressure and this is a refresher
theres us; theres us, just us
i see that;
a tree with a heart carved in
the honey in my tea
the treasure under the river
all in your eyes
chalk it up to good luck
made it without mac
this is what he was afraid of
see what i am made of
i wish you could see what i became
you joined the club last week just walking knees
now it’s me survived on a breeze nowyour heart is at ease-
the man that i am- you would of hated it
you hated everything; but you would of thrown
a killer 27th club party
standing- one
no- two hundred people
and where ever we go
i see their faces
dust on my tips traces
of their existence gone in a flash
and all we can do is spend a morning in mass
begging for safe passage
begging for safe travel
for them, right, or
to rid the guilt from those still existing,
those lucky to say i love you one last time,
and across the street, kids are laughing, having chai tea
with boba.
safe passage for an invisible gate keeper
and the steps are boba
you’re hands are a blessing;
washing away the fear
tracing your fingers along my worries
pushing your thumbs deep into my anxiety
flowing away-
falling asleep in your grasp
an angel pulling a bow back back deep into my heart
chop chop and depression won’t raise his hands to you
never lay a hand on my honey
all over my back, warmed
holding the arrow
asleep with your hands
it’s done
fixed at the source, small knife
puddle gravey between my toes
and a smile peaking through the shadows
can hear a laugh a few blocks down
harrowing; sirens closing in but it’s the laugh
feet turn to glue on every pebble skating across cold bricks and the sound of tires shredding in a closing distance
and that laugh; closer and it echoes through my ears like the gravey man’s scream-
i(whose laughing at my pain)i
drop the knife and down to your knees
and they’re laughing
the women two stories up with her baby are laughing
and the man, two blocks down is standing there
with a knife
and my belly spills of gravey
and he laughs
laughs
la-
i want you to stay-
through the weeds and lose strings
will pull those together;
replant some flowers or a tree
watch it grow old
watch us grow old
wonder if tomorrow has a face
skin
a brain
if they wore funny hats
told dad jokes
made meatloaf
loves to save coupons
finds beauty in everything
then
when tomorrow comes
it’s you; it’s you
i’ve seen tomorrow and tomorrow-
tomorrow is going to be a good day
i spent the whole day thinking about you
writing poems about you, you
in my last life it was you
in this one it will be you, you
never take a pause you
are the shinning star you, you
are the center of it all you
are the spring in these sneakers you, you
come to me in my dreams you
make me never want to leave this bed you, you
put your hands in mine chest in mine you
make me never want to leave this bed you, you
have me writing love poems about you
and for you all of me to you never waivering for you
armor wove of love you will never see it crack you
will see your own reflection
it is hard- to not be excited about tomorrow
every second closer to the next
is another closer to you
fear never in the rear
yet, it needs to be just for me
to set a bomb at 1159
will end tomorrow
before the alarm sets
the last tick
tomorrow ends with a crick
in a mellow field
alone.
Saint's Muse 