Poem: Beware

Beware of lonely people,
they are that way for a reason.

Beware of those who offer you large gifts,
when first you meet.
They lack something vital
and try to compensate
with worldly illusions.

Beware of them who say,
"I want nothing from you."
They are being dishonest.
Whether to themselves or to you,
it makes no difference.

The bad masquerades as good,
and the good are sometimes felled
beneath this slim mockery of wealth.

Poem: Old Emails

Emotions expressed in days far gone,
documented by emails
long since forgot.
Strikes terror in the stomach;
a cramping suck of shame.
Feelings bent and mangled
poured out through prisms
of whiskey and weed.
Out through my fingers
to keyboard
to wires
to your eyes.
Birthed as stunted
mutant
children.
Withered and sick
dead before fruition
cold and misunderstood
by all.
It was the only way known.
A frustrated
angry
robot.
Ejecting components
which did not fit
inside.

I was doing my best at the time.

Poem: After the fall

I laughed at the wind,
falling down to scrape both knees.
Not my lowest,
but pain knows
no comparison.
I watched the swan people gather;
ugly as roast lamb.
Oh how I aimed to be one.
When the sun finally rose
I was amazed to see
it's balance.
How simple peace is
when all it takes
is nothing.

Poem: Nothing to All

From nothing to all,
the change happens fast.
There are those who
I "owe" time to.
There are those who
I wish to spend time with.
The change happens fast.
Prioritize according to my heart
and not what my mind says.
Breathing in new air
I exhale that which is old.
It once was new too.
Pushing ever forward,
lost in the swirling river,
so many hands reach out for me,
to pick and choose is wise.

Poem: Stop It

Is that her?
Stop it.
I know she's nearby,
I can feel her.
Stop it,
You're doing it again.
Why am I still thinking about her?
How long has it been
since I've seen her?
Why do I do this
to myself?
I have no idea
what she is like
anymore.
Time must have changed her,
as much as it has changed me.
I'm in love with a memory,
an illusion,
it's not real.
I want to see her.
Stop it!
This must be my destructive impulse;
searching madly for a way to destroy me.
That's how it works,
you know,
the evil inside
will use any tool
to make me miserable.
Does she still think of me?
Stop it.
I haven't really loved again,
she was my last.
I've had lovers, yes.
Some of them quite deep
and wonderful.
But never like her.
Never with every fiber
of my being
and to Hell with the world.
Never again perhaps.
Stop it...
Please?

Poem: Love Dwells

I seem to like to dwell on Love,
or some image I make thereof.
On creatures from my distant past,
although most popular's the last-
"I wonder will she write to me"
and
"Happy with him, that just can't be!"
I'll feel all sad and play the blues,
pondering what I did to lose.
Write long letters to she-who's-gone,
sing about her in a song.
This the game my heart repeats,
until a new love does compete.
Though I do still think of old one's,
my firing pins decend on cold guns.
Why I must repeat this game,
is a quest which wracks my brain.
For nothing that I do or say,
will bring to me old loves today.

Maybe I just like to hurt,
crying over some old skirt.
Maybe I am fooling me,
about the way things really be.
But no matter, here I sit,
wishing I were past this shit.

Poem: Maturity

There was a time
when all I'd need
was a shot
of bar whiskey.

I'd take one shot
and all'd be fine
erasing all the
bad from my mind.

Then a little
time would pass
and one more
would be a gas.

Later too
I'd have another
and buy one
for my bar brother

For some time
this worked out fine
drinking down
all woes of mine

Eventually the times
did change

then no amount
could rearange

the pain and worry
of my life

the problems grew
and soon were rife

but no matter
how I tried

the only one
I could confide

the painful worries
of my think

was the glass
from which
I'd drink

And so I turned
to friends more hardy
drugs the kind
not found at parties

and they worked
but not forever
thus I found
I was not clever

Naked, freezing
cold in jail
with no friend
to make my bail

And while my schoolmates learned to be
I was learning how to flee

so now that I am finally sober
it's mine to learn to live all over

All the skills I learned
from the glass
from the needles
and smoking grass

these are tools
I now worthless
and I'm finding
mostly mirthless

though forever I'll persist
until my sadness will desist

Until I learn to love quite freely
until I find myself appealing

For I've learned it's all inside
and there is no place to hide

for every moment I repress
will one day demand redress

and though I used to put it off
I know the truth now; Nothing's Lost

To deal with everything I am
is the job of this one man

and though the many may drink to live
I find my purpose is to give

to the people who like me
feel compeled to only flee

and if I help just one other
I will have earned

the title
of "Brother."