Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Magpie.

I know what love is
I see it when it peeks behind the eyes of a stranger
A small glint
Like something shiny
And I, magpie that I am,
Head straight towards that sparkle
In the hope that it might be
Real gold.
And so far,
I have collected
Two empty gum wrappers
Some broken glass
A toy mirror
And 84 cents worth of change
Disappointed? Sure.
But I can't help still believing
That the love I find one day
Will be the everything I've been seeking
And I am unwilling
To settle
For less.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Midnight.

I wade
Into the silence of night
I allow the dark ink
To wash all over me
And quietly I transform,
Like mystery, aeons in the making.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Workout

I'm attempting to exercise you from me but my will is out of shape
But keeping the dream of you near to me isn't really worth the weight
My thick thighs from your fat lies
Isn't really all that great
So I'm loosing these inhibitions and I'm stepping out on faith
Stepping out on the faith that I'm worthy
Worthy of someone who understands me, not just tolerates me, someone who celebrates my cerebellum and not just my steam
Someone who eager to embrace my feelings not just my firmament, a man of some permanence
Someone who loves the whole of me the way I love everything else
And someone who's words are true and clean and better for my health
Words ears could eagerly consume and digest, organic and simple, not a pain in my chest
I'm attempting to exercise you from me love, I walk away, no look backs
And for as long as it takes I will shake off these weighs of your fat lies holding me back

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Old Tree

Pseudo-knowledge
Is entertaining at best
But I do beg your pardon
That I don't heed your requests
To bow down my boughs
At a saplings request
Because I am a very old tree.
A tree whose leaves provide books with their page
A tree whose roots are much deeper than most
My branches are wide, giving copious shade
And though I stand proud I have no aim to boast
I am gnarled and twisted by the storms of this life
I am shaped by the winds and scorched by the fire
And despite all the struggles both inside and out
I seek out healthful waters and go forth even higher
These young saplings speak
Like they know all that's best
The shrubs and the bushes are so quick to bend knee
But I smile and I pray they continue to grow
Because I am a very old tree.

Friday, September 22, 2017

You stink.

You stink.
You smell like rotten dreams, festering in a corner somewhere
Dirty little truths and half eaten lies that have never seen the light of day.
You smell like regret, boisterous and vile, like degrading expectations molding over from the wetness of your tears
You wreak of solitude
You try to mask it over with an air of superiority
Hoping no one notices the foul stench emanating from your soul.
You smell of death, the death of a happiness
You cling on to its bones in the hopes it might reanimate again.
Get clean.
Throw out all that garbage from the byways of your mind, those pretty catalogs of what it was supposed to be like.
Break free. Stop being an emotional hoarder. Because until you do, everything you do, will continue
To cause you
To stink.

Monday, August 28, 2017

Older.

I am a thinker.
I am constantly brainstorming.
Perhaps that's why
Grey hairs form
Like lighting across my brow.

It leads one to believe
That getting older
And wiser
And more conscience of decisions
And the energies around
Are signs of
In(ner) lighting meant to manifest in actions and verbs.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Phone (a haiku)

In a daze I scroll
Searching for meaningfulness
Never finding it.