A fear of structure
I toss in my sleep
Dreaming of the fairytale love affairs
I lust the fresh air
But
I am sure to find smog.
City of angels,
Sweet mother of god,
Be kind to a stranger
I am just passing through this
Human experience
Someone Other than Myself
An Interesting Affair
So we get to the bottom of the bottle
and there are little messages swirling,
like capsized sailors,
reading
“will you remember me in the morning?”
And she says
“Ashes to ashes. What we’ve done is in the past.”
Nothing lasts
Except the infinite now
I am time traveling
Through the cosmos again
Looking for the bird I’ve become
Broken wing, rainy day and on the pretty girl next doors front steps
She. must. be. the. yin.
We make eye contact
Immediately I know
I want to hold the umbrella for her
Accidently in love
Well,
Shit happens
Barriers
What a busy surface?
Nobody knows me at all
Early goal in life: get everyone to love me
Which evolved into
Just get one person to love me
Love. Not even romantic
Just…love.
Many things I don’t understand
But this is a two way road
Human beings,
I don’t believe I speak
Your language
The Leap Year
All of a sudden, it was winter
Half the year was gone
And she was becoming yesterday
Lover no more
A few seconds,
All it takes is…
I am covered in debris
The blast only lasted
A few seconds
But strong enough to
Wipe away everything but
The day
I arrived, consciously,
A few seconds
After
Her words destroyed my planet.
I am here and
I’m trying to collect the dust,
To group the molecules,
To piece together
The dreams I once shared with her.
Yes, these are my
Vain attempts
To avoid self destruction.
She is blind to the chaos,
Just as she was
To my heart.
Broken.
Broken.
Broken.
Dear Earth,
You don’t feel like home.
Yet,
I am searching for you
Knowing that there is a burden
Too heavy for my slumping shoulders.
Oh gravity.
Change?
Says who?
Even my smile seems
Forced and pretentious
I exist in complete darkness
Closure
I am worried
That I have lost
My dreams
In the city that never sleeps,
I am a Certa sheep
I am the thoughts you keep
Bottled in
I am still water
I am an empty pen
Unfortunately, I am the story
I am the marathon man
Smoking a cigarette
In losing my youth
I’m finding the end
I finally end
Biding Time
You can do no wrong
Martyr,
Star,
Little miss sunshine;
There is a moment with
The warmth I believe omits from your pores
You are the ocean
You are the shores and
In this windy city,
They just keep pushing the lake back
And who cares anyway?
Michigan needs it more
I am waiting for you
For us
To light this town on fire.
Dear abstract illusion of a friend,
The Second City is bustling but
The streets are starving for souls
And I am eager for this human experience everyone keeps talking about
I may or may not be able to do this without you
But, just so you know,
It’s often cold this time of year
And our mayor sucks
But I’m really good at Uno and Chess and making a fool of myself
And I promise that if you read your poetry to me every once and a while,
If I hear your voice, see your face, make you smile,
I’ll remember what it means to dream
Tim Burton’s Mistletoe
The same hand that
Rests on your chest
As she falls asleep and
You begin to believe
The dream gets better once you open your eyes
But gravity
Oh gravity.
For no reason I can recall
Her hand becomes stone
And her words sharpen this object
Inebriated tongue lashing forming a spear
A curse of my name for all the world to hear
We are taking the train
And her hand is still heavy
Pressing against my flesh
In a matter of seconds,
Minutes tops,
I will be dead
A contusion to the chest
From the very hand that
I held just hours ago.
A daisy hovering above
A thin layer of grass
Just inches below, I am
A corpse.
Glass Birds
Invisible Phoenix. I am a butterfly Time traveling in Mesa, Arizona With the rain, familiar faces evaporate Washing away the bridges built It’s alright. The age lines near my eyes create a crevace of fear in the corner of my mind. No need to be seen Just the desire to. Misfit, It lost it’s mystique as the years passed. I view a world I can’t touch. I am laying in the grass Waiting for answers that will not come, A sunstorm that does not forgive. Take me as I used to be Teach me how to live. I am laying in the grass, Screaming, begging for god to come But I no that she won’t. Sometimes it’s just better…to believe.
Capital
My fate
Hangs in the balance of
A bus five minutes behind
And Lake Shore Drive
During rush hour
Racing to an interview
If I’m lucky,
I get the luxury of
Selling my waking life for
Minimum wage
If they are successful
In drowning me into a culture of
Materialism
Waving my American flag
As if it were an honor
To be a black man here.
I’ll pretend like I’m desired
They’ll see a big smile. Sambo.
Hollow
Money talks
No wonder, they can’t hear
Our cries
