Poem: Undeserving

The room is Black
though I never saw her leaving.
There was no goodbye
just emptiness
where there used to be
a person.
Emotions thrown at a void.
Not even an echo to comfort.
But this is not why I cry, today.
It was nice to feel again.
For a little while, at least.
To believe, for a moment,
that I am worthy of affection.
Deserving to be loved,
with someone real to prove it.
Someone to see me as a soul,
as a heart,
as a being,
as myself.

To find me lovable,
to love me as I am.
Instead of just seeing
my bright blue eyes,
my handsome face,
my athletic body,
and whatever other hallucinations
people see on me
to exploit.

Poem: Lost Me

Alas I am forgotten
a dinner of hummingbird meat.
The interest I sparked
waned to a coal.
Dead ember,
Thy name was Love.
What turns one's heart
so quickly away
be it words
from one's family,
or friends?
A counsel of many
who have never met me
how false
a trial
by "peers."

Though I'll thank you
again
for our moments of life;
Reminding me how to feel.
While those I
don't know
cast judgements on me
with the dubious evidence
of my writing.

Fools
I call them!
Jelous traitors too!
To envy another's love
and tear it into pieces.
How comfortable it is
to bring others down
to your level.

Yet I did taste it, yes!
That love I never thought
to feel again
and for that little time
I had no need to cry
just knowing that
I was loved
again.

Poem: Letter to a Lost Lover

Is it over already?
It would not surprise me;
A month is a long time
to adore someone you hardly know.
Too long, perhaps.

All the time in the world for doubts,
and never a moment alone
with you.
Will I ever see you again?
No- it would not surprise me if not.
Sadness, sure.
But no blame.
Gratitude for time spent with you.
True.

A fantasy from the start,
that two different realms could unite,
in such beauty and intimacy,
together.

Am I being a silly boy
imagining loss
where there is none?
Your love still true,
not a moment am I away from your heart?

My senile mind imagines treachery;
the inevitable loss of your affections.
Neither of us will know the Truth,
until we see each other again.
Unless you have already decided our end, that is.
I'd like to know...

Reading the words I wrote,
inspired by you,
gbeg me to see you again,
to feel if I feel again.

In the end I am greatful for what
we have already had.
Bless the little children,
thank the invisible Angels
of works and rivers
of Luck and Love
and lightening.

Oh yes, Lightening.

Poem: Ye Vampire!

The Ingratiating Insect.
Flea-Fang Sucker of man.
Ingrate,
Suck-fly,
wormy-maggot,
human impersonator.
The stomach churns at his smile,
his faux-joy at seeing me,
his latest blood-giving victim.
Sucking fang-tooth.
Freak.
Inglorious Imp.
To feed him once binds the contract.
Then he gluts his corpulent greed until destroyed,
or the victim is bled dry-white.

Begone Bastard Vamp-child!
Go suck another's flesh!
I'll have no more of you...
today.

Poem: No Will Today

No will to do-
it's all pointless.
Even if it's not
it still feels like it is.
Waiting...
Just waiting...
Could go visit a friend,
should go work on getting housing,
making my future better,
one step at a time.

The heart is not in it
stomach tells me
I'm wasting my time.
"Just wait, boy, just wait.
There's no point in doing anything."

This is the truth.
Stocks lost
houses burned
everything's lost in the end.
So many people
upset by my "lack of trying."
They do not understand
the pointlessness.

To try
is to die.
All things come to ash.
Acceptance must come-
exhaustion of fighting myself.

Beter to strike specific targets,
when I can,
than waste my energy
swinging
at every ball.

The Life is the Wait.

The sooner I accept this-
the better.

Poem: Times of Thoughts

My only happy thought,
a place to rest in peace.
Thoughts of you shine like the sun;
Golden, warm, true,
undilluted by anything but goodness.
It's only my shadow missing you.

While all other thoughts
bubble and froth with
fear and avoidance.
Darkness, regrets, shame,
and doubt.
My past and my future
are equal
in their emptiness.
The present bland and ugly.

Though we have spent
such little time together
you have captured my hope,
the vision of happiness.

Your love,
making me loveable.
Casting my life in turgid shadows.
Everything flat,
when compared to you.

That someone like you,
could love someone like me,
is enough
to bring me to tears.
A strong man in many ways,
I have not felt loved in years.

That someone like you,
could love someone like me,
is a conspiracy by the Universe
to prove to me that it is good...
It's working.

That someone like you
could love someone like me,
gives my life meaning again.

Do you beleive
you are the Goddess yet?
You will
before we are through.
As the energy I feel
pulsing through me
for you
is surely the energy of the Horned God;
Bucking and rutting to unite
with his Goddess through me,
through us:

Vessels of the divine,
the Universe waits for us
to unite with each other.
Kissing, touching, making love,
to itself,
through our bodies, emotions, and spirits.

To know again the Truth:
that the entire world and all it's peoples
were made for this.
Made for the Lovers-
Divided for the sake of union.

And the infinite Goddess-God
is lonely
no more.

Poem: I'm 29

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It's
my birthday
today













































































































































































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Poem: One Brown Leaf

Going insane again.
Staring at the ceiling,
listening to NPR,
smoking cigarrettes.
Wondering what it's like
to be a person
with things to do.
Rain and cold outside.
People I knew
blowing through my memory.
Wondering who I was
who I am
who I'm going to be.
No initiative.
No reason to move
from my bed.
No profit in the cold.

Having once had dreams,
I look to the wet sky.
Will I ever have them again?
Nothing to do but wait.
Every e-mail
takes too much energy.
Every time I remember the past
I am filled with sadness.
Avoiding those things which remind me.
Running day to day,
moment to moment,
further away from:
The past when I was whole.
People and places.
I barely remember now.
Just a poking at my heart,
a wetness to my eyes,
and a child-like wonder,
that once
I had a life like that.

Now a ghost.
Brown, dead, leaf
blowing in the wind.
No seed,
to create a tree with.
No berry,
to feed a bird.
Just one brown leaf,
curling and tossing,
in the storm.

Poem: Laughing at Myself

Yes, it's embarrassing.
Hillariously so.
my cheeks all red,
eyes rolled at my own words.
Funnier still,
because I was being honest.
I meant every word
when I wrote it.
And I kinda still do.

This is the insanity of Love,
for me.
That's why I wrote it down, documented.
Displayed it openly and shamelessly.
Unchecked, these things can run wild,
rampant as a forrest fire.
Laughing at myself,
I hope others are laughing with me.

Still filled with caring,
no shame for my sentiments.

The shame is for my words;
Idealistic insanity,
hopeless hopefullness,
sickening sweetness,
blind beautitudes,
endless ego entreaties.

Sighing,
I look at myself of two weeks ago
with confusion and vague disbeleif.
How did that happen?
Will it happen again?

It looks very strange,
on paper.

Poem: The Calm Comes

Silence descends.
A calm in our storm.
The river-water still,
the world is listening,
waiting for us.

Heated beginings never last.
Wonders sadly if ours is over.
There are no complaints to mar
the peace of you-thoughts.

Two days with you
and the feel of your shoulders.
How lucky a man,
just for that?

The reason of silence,
my prayer that it's
comfort:
Confidence,
my heart is true.

Poem: Poet, Pornographer

More a pornographer,
than a poet.
Grossly displaying
the nudity
that I see
and feel
and experience.
Painting it all out
as best I'm able
but lieing
no matter how hard
I try to tell the truth.

Just like pornography.

Pictures of moments,
usually the most raw,
to be applauded
or scorned
by any
at their slightest
whim.
Intimate moments.
Private moments.
Moments like everyone has
and few people
like to discuss.
Framed in words
and packaged,
for us.