If you follow my blog, you already know that I write poetry. It’s kind of a strange thing, really. I know how great it it – poetry – but I always feel like it’s inferior to my prose. It’s not everybody’s poetry that’s inferior, just my own. Maybe because it’s writing in a heart beat, maybe it’s because it’s a moment’s contemplation and then gone.

Poetry, though.

* * * * *

Love, Untested

Looking into you,
knowing you.
Barely knowing you,
but owning you.
My love, be fair
and fairer even still,
robbing me of breath,
of precious air.

And there is nothing
you can do or say.
Nothing sweet and nothing cruel
to stop me in my
true pursuit of you.
My happiness, my shameless sacrifice,

Though worlds apart, though raging rivers
in between,
our souls still yearn for that one thing.
A thing both holy, but unholy made.
Your love, my love, I hold to me.
Until our bodies crumble, our sins reviewed,
I love you always – reality untold.


* * * * *

Where there is life,
when there are words.
Where we are still,
and newborn.
The life, the love, the fantastical
of tomorrow.
Lines written.
Time spent crawling towards
The End.


* * * * *

To be in love
the feeling
the person
the indescribable

The fucked up
of feeling,
no, having feelings
for another

I didn’t call.
Because I didn’t want to/
couldn’t get involved.
had my heart broken.
felt — That.

I’m so not ready.


* * * * *

The Love

u take for granted.

The Moment

of your surrender

to desire,

to the other soul.

The Love-ly


’cause we’re alone

in our humanness.

Lonely, Lovely Human,

go to love,

gotta love,

got a love.

And a soul-ution.


* * * * *

I see a dream written on the wall.
It has no end,
no beginning,
is all middle.

The sour sting of drink,
I tumble over forgotten chains
tied to my wrists.
The charm of the ever-believer.
The curse of my paralysis.

Have you been to war
like I have?
Have you fucked
your closest foe?

There’s no string in the shoe box
to tie me down beside you.
We have been high and drunk.
We tried on life.

I pause the movie,
the illusion of my genius.
There’s no written consent,
no formal request
to overcome my demons.
It’s all in a dream
and the sneakers under your bed.


* * * * *

All the Ways

All the ways
we fought –
back and forth.
How I never forgave you,
how you blamed me,
how she yelled at both of us.

Just the three of us,
against each other.
Against the world
if need be.
You never made it easy for me,
because you thought
I had it too easy.

You still think that.
We still fight.
We don’t forgive,
we blame,
but never yell.

All the ways
we loved –
for different reasons, in different ways.
How she protected us,
how you taught me,
how I looked up to both of you.

We had that, we have that
and each others’ backs.

* * * * *

Almost Feels Like Love

You shine
through the normal
of my world.

the walls
it took years to build.

What you do,
who you are,
the way my thoughts
get caught in my throat,
I know___

Know the curve
of your jaw
fits the palm
of my hand;
know the sound
of your voice
will haunt my dreams
forget what it’s like
to be alone and
become lonely instead.

I cannot have
or be given
the priviledge
of your lips
pressing the life out of mine.

I can only steal
a moment in time,
not wasted for once,
but filled with your smile.

* * * * *

Snow White

It’s snowing.
Like memories snow flakes swirl
through the air.
Hitting the pavement.
Building new ground
to stand on.
Or slip on.

Troubling thoughts
of troubling memories
I slip on.
And the ever-present
of misunderstood convictions.

Why? does difference mean alienation.
Why? is there a better in an equal state.
Why? is nature being blamed,
framed, defamed, beaten and resisted.
Why? do I even still care.

And nothing does feel right.
And everything is a messy state of mind.
The slush of once pure snow
is causing accidents,
is causing my mind to slip further
into the dark.

There’s the ongoing nagging,
the insistance that life’s not right.
Or maybe it’s just snow and cold and ice,
the weather of a troubled mind,
the winter of a broken society.

* * * * *