I might have written my best poems with you, You always believed in my poetry, if not me Maybe. Who knows, I just know time goes But we stay. We stay. I quote the things you used to say. Sometimes it feels like every day. The things you used to say.
Just wrote a poem and deleted it Next song. Okay, now I Breathe And so…. But the song is sad. Only I listen, because I am in love, And so I breathe. And next; Yes. I breathe Only, I wish life didnt trivialize and parody itself, Because I need this: Lily Allen, Something’s Not RightContinue reading “Of Note: An Ode To The Practicing Poet”
If I had to choose between writing and sex, I’d choose pen over penis eight days a week. Why I’ve gone with such a seemingly daft metaphor, I know all too clearly; for my writing is growing into as compulsory an act as masturbating was for me at fifteen, only I’ve no Portnoy’s Complaint –Continue reading “Non-Fiction “
Have the courage to stop the world and start over at two am, While the night is still and your days may yet be seized; Have the courage to use your dreams as metaphors for the things you truly want: Reimagining your life as one does who has become brave enough to see heroes asContinue reading “Reimagining “
I lie so close to the one I love, Ten million miles away By rote I tell myself all will be well, But these words invoke only a reminder of the hell The loneliness, The stone, cold to the bone, hurt loneliness Where where dreams, When we fall so sad On one another in resignation