245

A hollow win
A tired night
A long conversation
A unnecessary fight
A line once drawn
Then rearranged
Then drawn again
The result the same
Beaten down
Once again
Limping slowly
A thought detained
Then suddenly
Allowed to win
Fearful silence
Quiet shame
A horse that won
Albeit lame
Pick your fights
Rabid or tame

When you spend your life picking only winners
And then you get turned down
You feel slightly disoriented
You feel spun around
I’ve gone through my life
Picking only fights I knew I’d win
I’ve always been slightly a sore loser
Something I’ve known true time and again
So I pick my rhymes and pick my words
In such a way not absurd
So I know I’ll win
Tried a true
When I lose a fight I feel slightly… askew
And when I’ve lost
And then I win
I feel taken aback
My mind starts to spin
I look for a reason
I start to get scared
Why this person
Backed down the stairs
A win that’s hollow
Isn’t a win at all
It’s forlorn and shallow
One where I cannot stand tall
In the end all I’ve really learned is that winning… really isn’t worth it. And it makes me want to fight for what I want even less. Not more.

244

To form a poem in pentameter and slightly rhyme
To put word on a page to a beat and keep time
to make it so that when all is said and done
You maKe your words into a picture
As a whole, and as a song of one
To create a poem of pictures
To dance and keep the time
You have to really know
How to fucking rhyme

243

I
Try to
Sit here and
Reflect as I do
Reminiscing on
Memories of old
Thinking of things
The future may hold
Of all that may happen
Be they a loss, or a gain
If this moment right here
Will pass from memory like
A passing dream or a lost train
Ride into a city you know and love
Dancing to the sound of a h haunting harp
On the wings of a dove as they fly up above
All the while listening to sleep and soft slumber
As memories overtake you, like the deep shake of far off thunder.

240

Growing up
Is both joyful and sad
You rejoice in what you have
And quietly morn what you once had
Finding love
Sit with an ipod next
To someone you love
Leaves you joyful and perplexed
Your heart fluttering like the wings of a dove
You think back
To times gone by
To a time you rejected your feelings
Rejected any notion you would have relied
On one person
It’s a foreign notion
To know without a doubt
To know he feels the same in and out
To be alone
To come back to
A cold and empty home
Where no light in your life has ever shown
You are filled
With joy harbored deep
As you watch him lying and stilled
and yet, somewhere inside, you quietly weep
Because you know
Deep inside your heart
That time has come and passed
Like the quiet fading notes on a long forgotten harp
That you
Without willingness or try
That time slipped slowly away
Forever gone, forever passing you by
And so
As this poem I write
I look on a boy I’m beginning to love
And smile with a slightly sorrow tinged sigh
Because I’m happy
Watching him sleep and lay
And reminisce on all the time
That has slowly, inevitably faded away

237

A long and uneven road
Made of pavement old and cracked
It’s a long and lonely road
Traveling it with sadness with which you are wracked
No problem people in sight
Fully truly alone
Paved with broken dreams and lost hopes
One of your sons is coming home
At the end is an endless horizon
Of murky black water
As you reach the shore of this other world
You slowly begin to falter
The waters are choppy
Shrouded in myst
The faces of sorrow and suffering
Keep watch over a rundown skiff
One of your sons is coming home
Pay your coin of silver
Don’t leave me out here alone
Step on board
The ship for you alone
The sea traveled by cancer patients and soldiers
One of your sons is coming home
You step on board
Filled with hollow melancholy
This is the last stop on this otherworldly shore
You’ll never see these sands where you stood solitary
Pay your boarding fee
Watch as the oars start to row
To the county down
To where you reap what you sow
And your soul is weighted against a golden pound
A melancholy maiden
On a ship bobbing in the sea
Made by the tears of the damned
Of avarice and greed
You realize it’s true
When you die, you die alone
On the seas ridden by only the dead
One of your sons is coming home

234

Post a diddy
Post a rhyme
I cant fucking think
Of a poem this time
I need number 8
So I post a shitty diddy
And do it rather pissidly
Because I cant fucking stop
The rhyming scheme no matter how increasingly
This is annoyingly
Toying with me
And now a shitty little ditty
Has turned into a pissy
Wholeheartedly
Halfassed attempt
To keep up with my poems
I’m away from that fucking rhyme finally
… fuck you brain.
This is ridiculous
And no, it’s not done intentionally
Welcome to aspergers fucked up mentality
Which is sadly my reality
Where it is now easier when typing these
To think in rhymes entirely
And yes I’m just rambling with with retardedly
No direction or stopping point quite figured out sadly
My fucking head is starting to hurt entirety
Because I’m thinking in shitty ditty fucktasticly annoying rhymes rhythmically
I’m stopping this inequivecly
Before my sanity
Wanders away from me
Entirely
The poem you just read was a mental mind fuck to type
Enjoy

230

Fear is
To me
A foreign entity
It’s grip very rarely
Takes hold of me
But recently
By some irregularity
I find myself not just momentarily
Filled with a fear that riddles me rather fastly
Because for once I let down my which I do infrequently
And let my guard down in so I bared invulnerability
Which for me has never happened because I warily
Keep my feelings closed and only open them incrementally
But recently
I let myself do something so drastically
Against that part of me
That tried so full heartedly
To keep that so nobody could see
My vulnerability
And carefully
Sensually
Freely
Caresses me
Posessively
Gently
Yet hungrily
And willingly
Uncharacteristicly
I quite willfully
Let him into me
Both metaphorically
And literally
So he could see
My vulnerability
And it seemingly
Appears to me
That as an anomaly
I let him rather fondly
Embrace me
Caress me
See me
Completely
And it scares me

226

I once saw a dragon
Drawn on a canvas at a fair
I looked on in awe
At that beauty that’s rare
I watched the form take shape
To pencil in the scales
To shade it to perfection
From it’s mouth to it’s tail
When I saw the smiles he brought
To those who watched transfixed
I wondered what it was like
To have such gift
I watched the croud
Come and go
Watching intently
At the artist drawing with a flow
Of pencil strokes
Both careful and bold
What he did to these people
Was more precious than gold
The smiles he brought
To the countenance of the croud
Was like watching magic
And the artist was proud
I realized he did it
For neither glory or fame
I’m pretty sure he’ll die
Without anyone having known his name
He did it to watch
The people gaze in awe
To see their smiling faces
Is all the reason he saw
To keep at his trade
To continue his work
As he drew the final detail
A tongue with a fork
Many years have gone by
Since that day I saw
Him draw that dragon
With never a flaw
I always dreamed
Of making the same smiling faces
Appear
On countenances of all ages and races
I draw not to get
Many awards or fame
Just like that artist
I’ll die without a name
I don’t want them to hang
In a museum on the wall
I want the joy in faces
As they stare on in awe
I have come to realize
I can’t do that with ease
They show eyes apathetic
To the pictures they see
Sometimes I want to stop
To give up and just quit
Or just stop showing people
My ability not quite equipped
I might just become
An artist that excludes
His pictures and drawings
Away from public view
I’m getting somewhat discouraged
By the apathetic eyes
By the lack of a smile
I have come to realize
Maybe I was not meant
To bring smiles to faces
Maybe I’m just destined
To simply go through the paces
Of amusing myself
With rhythm and time
As I draw very carefully
Every single line
Try as I might
The result is the same
Destined to die
An artist with no name
Sitting here now
I will admit with no shame
I cry silently
All the reactions the same
I’ll keep to my craft
Not to bring smile
But to amuse myself
If only for awhile
Maybe someday
My pictures will live
And people will smile
At what I have to give
Either way
Even if kept to myself
Filling an endless
Dusty bookshelf
I’ll keep making pictures
Pencil moving with rhythm and time
Maybe someday
I’ll watch their smiles brightly shine

222

I know what’s going through your head.
You think that this is poem.
But you are so very very off.
I guess I’ll just have to show ’em!
Why aren’t you tasting the meat!?
Why aren’t you feeling the crunch!?
I cant beleive I have to show you!
This isn’t a poem, it’s something for lunch!

It couldn’t be a duck cause it doesn’t seem to waddle
Couldn’t be a car cause it isn’t fast enough
Couldn’t be a bear cause he doesn’t have the honey
Couldn’t be a plain cause it doesn’t fly and stuff!
It couldn’t be windows vista cause it doesn’t seem to suck
Couldn’t be an elbow cause it doesn’t have a joint
Couldn’t be Christmas Tree cause it doesn’t have any presents
It couldn’t be a poem cause it doesn’t have a point!

This is not a poem, it’s a taco!
What would make you think otherwise? !?!?
This is not a poem, it’s a taco!!
It’s really just a burrito in disguise!

215

Light flows over
With liquid grace
Slipping frictionless
Across the flawless face
Tangible but ethereal
Across it’s flawless surface
Without ever stopping
In summers furnace
Like quicksilver it sparkles
Untouchable to all
It slips and skates
And leaves me in awe
Smooth as silk
Soothing as rain
Forever changing
Never to be the same
Watching the windows
On the cars as they pass
Puts me at ease
A sense of peace at last
The light that flows
With a shadows grace
Brings a smile
To my stoic face
Watching car windows
Leaves me serene
At peace for now
Brought on by daylights sheen
As I exit the bus
I wait patiently till
The next I will see
The windows liquid
With lights silent trill