I missed it...I missed it.All the minutes,ganged up on me in ambush,crushing me in an instant.Slipping by,In plain sight and in darkness,they mounted their assault,with a relentless, compassionlessdetermination.And I missed it.Sure, I saw the hourspass by like cars in traffic.I saw the days,flow through light and dark.And yes, the months,that came and went with the seasons.But I missed the minutes,the magical momentsthat held the keys of true happiness,the gift of God we often overlook,until they’re gone.I missed it,but not as muchas I miss her.
can't never could doi feel a needto Cum-mings again.if i everwasn't not goingto do it,now is not the time.why would ican't do nothingi shouldn't beable to do?even as i writethis, my hair graysas the wordsfade.
PerspectiveThe sky was perplexedwith the idea of blackand white and blueand gray.But the sea didn't mind,it had seen worseand betterand all points in between.But the moon just laughed,observing,with a perfect smile,above all.And I,I stood alone,watching, obliviousto all the fervor.Thinking,about my pitiful lifeas the worldleft me behind.
Future-Present-PastII would ask youto be my sunburn,not so my skin crawls,but to feel the warmth. in my bones, I feel the earth moveI would ask youto cut my throat,so I can feel my bloodflow. (emo I know) a wet smooch of rain drops
Tsunami and Cherryreborn-in a tsunamiof sakura
DichotomyWar,a battle we all fight,with one demon or another,a person,a thing,a drug,a vice,ourselves
War,a necessary thing,to truly be alive,we must fight,to live,to fight.War,without it there is no love,no joy,no peace,for without a fight,what is a thing worth?War,it gives us everything we need,to survive,to prosper,to be alive.
Some feathered haiku...`silencefrom the night skytalons, then beak--feathersfluttering in the windof a passing car`
Haiku - 11-28-10`my haikushattered- winter wind`
you're the coffeepaint by numbers and my writers blockare having sex again. i can't do anythingcreative on my own anymore. we arescattered snapshots, disorganized,not in order, and i'm my own "out of order"sign on a bathroom stall door in a publicwashroom. my clavicles won't let go of my ankles.i sleep in diagonals and wake up with"i-slept-all-wrong" and "i-have-a-stiffness-in-my-neck-and-a-crick-in-my-back."i had intercourse with purity,i used dirt as laundry detergent,i slept with insomnia as my pillow,and this morning i ate my hygienein the shower. tan lines were typewrittenon my cheeks when i wore your uglyfingers. you are the coffee stain ofi-wish-i-didnt-do-that on my teeth.you are the wine stain of i-don't-remember-what-i-did-last-night-but-i-know-it-was-stupidwithout the i-don't-remember part and minusthe wine. let's go fishing and reel in someof that makeup that covers up upper lefthand placements and downright fuckups.my notebook is a room and all the lettersare all t
limitwords are the translationsof lifetimes.and i speak the invisible architectureof my body.there are back-lit hillsin every direction;dark crests that holdthe inevitability of the seaon the other side.recollections go out likethe vapid ribbons of breath,occupy their originsas fragments of myself.i am everywherei'll ever be.ever been.the other sideis a perpetual expulsion;is exclusive and perpetrating;is the establishment of desire.i follow the iron shove of the riverto the lake, green with cold.ice rides the waterand the careful geometry of chancelike triangular wax sheets.they overlap,hold what might be handson their way out to wherethe river widens absurdlyinto lake.gray ascends, turns the cloudsa dirty purple. the wind never stops,has nowhere to stay.i reach the end of possibility,the border of limitation;i am the only one here,so i speak to myselfabout what is already well known.the tongue curves over the living paragraphof the voice,
My Masquerade~My Masquerade~For the world I am displayed;They always watch but cannot seethrough my masquerade.I feel every moment fly;My heart is beating, pulse racing,breath held as I lie.My innocence I can't defend;I know that surely this will linger'til my very end.I brought this all upon myself;Mask upon mask, lie upon lielike valueless wealth.Dare I take these masks off no!My former self haunts meeverywhere I go.False glory, false honor, false fame;With all these masks I seem to haveforgotten my own name.
-this windowpane lonelinesshas devoured too many starsmaking love to ocean beds.-dp
free birdit’s a need to feel the suns golden fingersteasing figure eights along my back,& the wind on my cheeks.i must have beena bird in some past life,a swallow or a hummingbird.because, i swear on some nightsi can feel the growing pains of an atlasready to burst through my skin like wings.i just want to be free.
Only as Old"Frail bones predict what fragile minds can't detect,"He trailed off slowly, "And my bones are achin'."The air around me hung low and depressed,Sticking to the back of my throat like a stormy syrupI'd tried to swallow down.I peered out the kitchen windowAnd caught an inklet of patched-over-grey sky;I wondered what was in store for the day.Impartial to the gloom outside, we stepped out onto the back porch;Grandpa wobbled out with his cane in hand and we waited.In the hushed stillness the trees traded birdsRobins, swallows, whippoorwills, and cardinals.If you squinted hard enough at the sullen shrubbery,You could spot the caterpillar creeping to the underside of the leaf.That's when I looked at Grandpa,And saw through his eyes nature recedingAt his prescience of a storm."Grandpa, how do you always know?"He chuckled and simply said: "The world tells me."It was left at that, but years later I have foundThat the world is only as old as the person to whom you speak.
I Am NotI am not Ugly; you're just holding the mirror wrong.I am not Blind; I just love to listen.I am not Retarded; I just learn differently than you.I am not ADHD; the world just fascinates me.I am not Depressed; this is how I smileI am not Fat; I'm just as big as my heart.I am not Bisexual; I want to share my love with all.I am not Cross-eyed; One eye sees beauty in this universe,the other looks towards my future.Before you think you may have the answer, on who I'm supposed to be,No.I am not Special; I'm just being me.
Msn songSin: knut is my budSin: in da bedSnuff: In my headSin: because hes actually DEADSnuff: SHOULD WE WED?Sin: INDEED CAUSE MY NAME IS TEDSnuff: ENOUGH SAID
Dream OnA dream can bea passing thought;a passionate ambition.A dream can bea battle fought;a superficial mission.A dream can bea driving force;a forgiving comfort.A dream can bea thriving source;a deceitful consort.A dream can thrill you;drive you or kill you.Beware of this, dreamersand Dream On.
Sublime-RhymeI lie in bed,red streams,beams, into tired eyes.Why's, run through my head,dead, to an 'outside' world,hurled, from my dreams.Seems that I wake,break, into a day,way off center.Winter is near,here to freeze,seize, my soul.