College apartment

This place is that kind of old

Your parents think is new.

And like them it has wrinkles and scars.

It has that amount of wear and tear

Some realtors call charm

“Lived in”

The carpet is almost shag length

Pumpkin pie orange

Or baby puke green.

The walls are stained in weird places.

There are picture frame shadows on the stairs.

Sink kind of works

And shower kind of dribbles.

Every cupboard, window, and door

SQUEEEEKS, Grinds, or Slams

From the tiptoe of a breeze.

This place has the stagnant Oder

That reminds you of your great grandma’s house,

After she passed.

What you might not notice is,

You are not new or special to this place.

You are a parasite,

A temporary barnacle.

You might not stay long at all,

But you will add to its truth,

Your mess will be its cosmetic disaster.

You will spill your Coolade all over the linoleum.

Leave furniture dents in the carpet

And bed post scars on the walls.

Overtime it will forget you,

Remodel or maybe burn down to nothingness and rock.

But you won’t forget this small smelly sarcophagus of a rental place.

You will study in it, fight your roommate about it, and cry over an x in it.

Change your major 1-2-3-4 times here.

Sit thinking how grateful you are for the shitty roof that creaks

Laugh and wrestle and dance at 3 Am between the thin walls.

For a moment at least you will appreciate the spongy warmth

Of that disgusting shag carpet between your toes.

It’s your college apartment,

Your post dorm sanctuary.

You might hate your roommate for various reasons,

But they are only a footnote, a subtext, an afterthought

To this wondrous black mold- asbestos filled palace-

That at least a short amount of time you can call home.

And that’s something at least.

Sharpie on her door

Love you because it hurts
Everything you tear from me
the way you break me down
hate you because you give me hope
feel like I'm going to drown
Dragged me to the bottom
Babe I'v stuck around
I love you because I'm leaving you
and I'v never been so proud.

Oceans away

In remembrance of good things
I reflect in the tiny waves
That crash between us
Washing us closer and further
The dust and silent song
It's a cold breeze I welcome
Rushing through my door
Sometimes pain eclipses joy
New beginning in mulch
I oaken myself and draw you in
Rooted in the flourish of mistakes
I seek solace with the catalysts
That drew us apart
And welcome the cold wind
The brutal atmosphere that ebbs
A path for us both
Disregard for the unlikelihood
Of crossing you again
I'll drop pebbles in
Hoping a ripple finds you

communing with crow near beach

The crow dropped a sea shell-
Normal in complexion,
Upon the wooden railing.
A trade of sorts-
Bread for unbroken beauty.
From it's perch,
High in the leafless Cliffdiving tree,
It gazes out into the frothy blue.
If it would have let me closer
I might have traded Words for silence
And for a time consoled in wiser wings
Than ever before.

where you going?

Around you film bends
Light on glass slipper
Golden lab scrambles
Chip bag crinkles
You're bubble boy forever
But it only kinda tickles

Walking turns to stumbling
Light begins its fade
Groggy morning coming
The game needs played

Still shot your ugly
A moment too funny
Angels roll the dice
But Demons get payed

Down here everyone flouts
You don't need to hide
Walrus got his oysters
Better enjoy the ride

Regret

It's that thing in your stomach
that makes you turn around
throw your head back and wince
bite your nails or grind your teeth
its a snake uncoiling within you
tastes like blood and bile at the back of your throat
poison in your blood
you would give anything for a second try
but that is always to much to ask for

Rebuilding eachother

Bare handed
I will pull up
All those fallen onto stone
Tables, blank and bare
Are souls never who touched
There. Laying foundation alone,
Brick by brick buildings
Be thrown, but not alone.
Forsake not thy low broken
Kin, nor the drop of a fell foe.
Recall a gruesome time when light
Prevailed between stoic rivals-
Salidin's aid to the lionheart
An echo in time of chivalry.
Keep the thought close friends.
Seek out hope,
Meditate on peace,
Realize the vision.
Together- brothers and sisters
We will build it
Brick by brick.

The smallest spark can

Take the smoke in
Because there is little thought left
When all air is toxic.
Swallow defiance because
What strength do you retain to struggle?
Do not holler behind your bars
Nor rattle your chains at your captors-
Because your annoyance
Will only ignite their brutality.
Hide your bruises with shame
Turn the other cheek
Again, and again, and again.
By all means-
Do not stand up
Do not speak out
Do not let injustice fill you with rage.
I dare you to beg for a freedom
You wont even fight for.


Its time to start something yourself
begin your revolution.

Pages before the Void

I pay for this in blood

Faust didn't get as good a deal
To be less than evil
And spin silver webs
Between innocent eardrums
Whilst I whisper of dreams
To the children counting sheep.
drive them forth with bedtime stories

Encouraging them to live tomorrow better

I pay for each word
In rich thick black blood
Scatterbrain scribbled page to page
Is the truth of me
The drift of a storm
The shaking reality
A spool of unwinding thread.

At the end of the day I pray
You will see the scars
 the bags under my eyes
And forgive me

for the truths I told

and lies I could no longer hold

Because I refuse to live in a world without dreamers

without Wonderland walking wishers

Without those brave enough to face the darkness-

to call in the dawn.

In my blood I will write

what is right-

Hope shall not die this night.

On the Throne

What a perfect place to die
In this ancient stoic seat
The world itself spinning out of control
Falling down on me
A fallen hero
Grace rid shepherd of the lost
What lyre could I pluck
To wind a song of worse luck
Where else would my journey end
 but here ?
This really stinks
It makes me feel sick
I'm too old and fat and meak
To carry the shield
And defend the weak
Maybe I'll find that land I once sought
And the grace I knew it would give to me
What a place to fall
This lonely cold chair
If I'm gonna die anywhere
It might as well be here.
Cheers.

This cant be my world

This cannot be my world
a fishbowl upturned onto the flat of a table
the water slowly seeping out
all the fish broken into panic
no
   no
       again no
not my world

I feel like a toddler on a trike who just ran into a wall
that he had never known existed ever before
that kind of realization
                                  crushes
I cant go on here
                         I need a way out
                       no
a way in
            to my world
a place where everyone is different
and barriers don't break my path
                                                  every time daylight breaks
someday I will get there
                                    until then I suppose
I'll just pace the cage.

growupt

My hands are stained with the ash I sweeped from your brow
Smelling the sulfur bloom on the horizon
The Shadow clouds sprinkling a black-pepper rain
I try to make my hands into an umbrella over your head
And rush you inside, to watch the mountain break.

6 word short 1

full of pain
Find a rock

Watching penguins

What were you thinking
When you wrote "This is not your wall"
On the side of that old bridge 
Where we first thought of flying
Why we  never tried, I don't know
Origami birds that never found a home

The road we are warned about

"Do not  follow"
Written in sidewalk chalk
Next to a crude arrow and another
stretching out of sight
"well I am goin to follow them
anyway probably a treasure at
the end"
"yeah a fucking pot of gold
 with a leprechaun sitting on top"
"well?"
"lets go"
And the adventure began
In crawling steps.

chalk outlines- Learning of death

Sidewalk arrows pointed the way
The outlines blue red orange yellow
Chalk on the side walk
Morgan, Hannah, Olivia, Ryan

Each died within their lines
A rainbow house sat vacant
And guarded by an angel
Or something
I found two small hearts and a star.
The origin had to be
the burning tower that leaned
Here and there
Hopscotch 20 yards long
With points climbing into the hundreds.

C

cold calculating Colombians
clamor for clams in Colorado
With a cocaphony of cats that
Cant quite collapse the crowd
cuz Callisto is calling.

My Last Lecture

Sometimes daily life grinds.

Saw mill singing bullshit.

And we get tired of the weight

The stones stacking on our backs

Driving us into the grave.

We start seeing grey

Like Charlie Chaplin,

We hold our tongues.

We need to wake up

From our stagnant delusions

Our false truths

Our cerebral contusions.

See through a child’s eyes.

We need to get caught in a storm like Dorothy

Find a new home out west.

I don’t care anymore

Fuck it!

I’m done trying to help you see.

Find a reason to live life

Or end it now zombie bitch

You’re already dead.

Morning cup for Joe

The doorbell clinks when I enter.

Dolores is the only one

Here, still wiping down the counter

After fifty years.

                “Black coffee 2 sugars Joe?”

Have I ever changed?

Her hair is still permed in strawberry curls

Which now and then droop in front of her hazel eyes.

Her nametag is so warn that only Ores is readable

So I joke and call her doll.

The coffee is still hot here

The eggs are still soggy and the toast always burnt.

The juke box in the corner still plays alright,

I slide silver into the slot and hear the grinding, clicking, and whirring.

I play a song I’ve heard probably a thousand times before.

As I walk out the door I look back

She is good for still waiting on me

Like a lazy hound dog on a sweltering sunny day
I lackadaisically disregard   the numbers and signs flouting in one ear and out the other.

the fallen whisper slightly

And with eva's paws we found the rain

mr. sometimes punctual

I wish everyone wasnt so worried by time
punctuality is overrated

i like to arrive fashionably late
or rambunctiously early

If i was in charge, time would be based on the mood of things
the rythem of the living world
because clocks seem so old and dead

if it is raining then time should be shorter
seconds counted by the droplets of rain
hitting the ground,

on sunny days
when the weather is nice
the day will stretch out with the horizon
the hours drifting by on clouds

This is how i wish things were
me sitting here staring at the door
watching time melt off the clock in clicks
anticipating the recess bell

selling out

The hawk and the raven
forgot purpose
and drove on to a mega store
but that is only where the story ended.

knowing what you can not yet

Much of my life has been filled with curiosity
I sometimes think of myself like Alice on her way to Wonderland.
up can be down, down may be up
I can convince myself the answer to any riddle or solution.
yet sometimes I do know
and that is the beauty of unexpected things