Sadly The Party Never Stops

All Right
Everyone out
Letters
Words
Phrases
Ideas
Hey
and you too
Meaning
Your all banned
From my head
I'll kick you out
Screaming and yelling
But I know
When I just
Lay down
To enjoy this night
One of you
Climbs through
My window
And stands there
In just the right
Light
And looks so
Beautiful
I'll Sigh
All right
Just this one
Last time
Tonight

Writer's Eyes

There are
Eyes
That hide behind
Mine
That are always there
Watching
You
Me
Everything
Wanting to receive
Consume
Realize
Anything
Never shutting
To sleep
They are
Always watching
Waiting for
A spark
An Idea
A flash
Of Light
To feed
Off of
Like a moth
To a flame
Or a mosquito
To a vein
So that they
Can Comprehend
Rationalize
Reorganize
Everything

Motherly Advice

"Why don't you write
Something nice?"
Why kid myself
Or you for that matter?
Go read
A children's book
If you want nice
This isn't
A fairy tale
So why make it out
To be?
"Because we have so much
Pain, loss and tears."
Reality is
Life is a job
Work is a job
Marriage is a job
Writing
Is a job
One I enjoy
At the moment
So don't tell me
To turn it into
Something nice
Because without this
I'd have gone insane
A long time
Ago

It's Just Who I Am

My life
Is a big
Fucking
Joke
But I'll
Be Laughing
The whole
Way
Through

That Hardest Part Was Knowing That To Love You Meant Stepping Away

I could never be your hero
And fight your demons
Or slay all your
Insecurities
I could never show you
How beautiful you really
Looked in my eyes
Or help you understand
How wonderful you were
I could only love you
Through all that mess
The depression
The Insecurity
The silent anger
That raged inside
And consumed you
I could only tiptoe
Through this wreck
As you slowly blamed me
For every incident
I realize
That I could never
Be good enough
To make you happy
To part these cloudy skies
And let the sun
Of your soul
Shine on through
I realize
Which was the hardest
For me to do
I was never enough
To make you smile
Nothing could
Make you smile
Except your own love
For who you
Are
And knowing this
Knowing what I had to do
I let you go
I had to
For you to someday
Even without me
Find your
Inner peace

An Email Sent To Tech Support

I tried to
Change the status
On my Facebook page
But it seems
That you creators
Of this web page
Left out the
Option to choose
Abandoned
And I figured
Hell it's coming
Soon enough
So I chose
Single
Instead

Closure

Work will be
Mad
She will be
Mad
People will be
Mad
The earth will
Shake
The Heavens will
Fall
But I've made my
Peace
Once and
For all

I See Them Circling Already

Women
Are already
Trying to
Hook me up
But I don't want
A fix
Or a one night
Stand
I don't want
My soul mate
Or even
A mate
For that matter
I just want
A little time
Before the
Insanity
The confusion
A little time
Before dealing
With someone new
And their emotions
Or their
Problems
they all got
Problems
We all got
Problems
I just want
A little time
To remember
Who I was
Who I am
Who I could
Be
With all my
Potential
Before you
Throw me back
When I forgot
How to even swim
Which matters most
In these shark
Infested
Waters

Holding Back

It's a pissing match
That I don't wish to win
Or be in for that matter
But everyone starts anyways
And one boy
Keeps trying to get a little
On my shoe
While the rest
Throw jabs at me
Shy guy
Little willy
Whatcha got to hide?
They don't realize
It's not what I have to hide
I'm holding back
Because once I start
I'll piss them right to
Shame

What Inspiration Do You Withhold From Me?

I often run into her
When she's waiting
For a ride
Sometimes, while she's
Washing clothes
I once caught her
Checking her mail
Every time
I've caught her
She doesn't say much
Lowers her eyes
And Scurries off
Disappearing
From where she came
No Hi
No excuse me
No words escape her
Awkward lips
Not even a second glance
Right before she shuts
Her door
Locking her secrets
From me
While I stand there
Wondering
What stories
She would be able
To tell
If she could only
Speak

Drowning In A Sea Of Words

Hopeless
It's how I feel
I keep getting
Letters
Threats
Harassment
I'm afraid to respond
Knowing they will
Turn it all around
I filed for divorce
Is all I wrote
The reply
I didn't know you
Could do that
On a Sunday
I did it
On a Thursday
I wrote to her,
I love you
Wish to communicate
Without your father
The reply
You cannot manipulate us
You need not be a jerk
We offer our counseling
From experience
And want to talk
About your sex life
Men are from Mars
Women are from Venus
We can talk in a parking lot
But she won't be there
We will take legal action
For slander on her father
I suggest an attitude adjustment
We have been the ones trying
To communicate to you
You haven't listened to our advice
You spread lies
Perhaps you can't look at yourself
In the mirror
Look at the mess you created
The mess I created?
I stopped replying almost
A week ago.
And it keeps coming in
Filed for divorce
Legal actions threatened
With all this abuse
I sometimes think
I'm trying to leave
So why can't you just let me
Go
In Peace?
Then I sometimes
Think
Maybe
I deserve this?

How I See It

Walking down the street
Through the park
I see
Cars passing
Me by
Whose engines
Pump out
Ideas
For me to
Collect
I see
People
Walking
In the park
Leaving me stories
That trail behind
Each footstep
I see
Birds chirping
Poetry
That glides softly
With the wind
And I walk here
Taking it all
In

A Writer's Solitude

Go to the movies
They said
Lots of flicks are
Playing
I almost went
To the movies
That day
But I knew
Once I got there
In that dark room
All alone
You would creep
Ever so slowly
Into my head
And at times
When you're usually
A blessing
You become
A curse

Reality Check

I filed for divorce
You should be getting something
This week or the next
I'll still always be here
For you
But not your family
I can't take that abuse
Any longer
Or the fingers
Always pointing
While I cried
In counseling
Alone
Sent you love
And letters
Alone
Tried to open communication
Alone
So I can't be a part of this
Any longer
Because every night
I've wondered what made you
walk out that door
but then I finally realized
It wasn't me
It was you
And that I couldn't possibly
Abandoned you
Because I was left with
No one to
Abandon

Satisfaction Of Doing Things Right

I came home
To nothing
With Mirrors
That reflected
Hatred
And letters
Which pointed fingers
I replaced that mirror
With comfort
Wrote back
With love
I waited
With patience
Forgiveness
Understanding
But nothing ever came
No phone call
Office visit
Letters from home
Just the agony
Of silence
And the embrace
Of doubt
Followed by the
Realization
That you were
Never really
There

One Of The Muses Stood Me Up

I saw
Lady Luck
While I sat there
Getting drunk
I flashed her a smile
And shot her a wink
From across the barroom
She glided over
Smooth and as cool
As can be
Spit on the floor
And threw a french 302
In my face
Father Time rushed
From out of a corner
And to no surprise
Didn't help
Kicked that bar stool
Right out from underneath
My feet
While Cupid
Laughed from behind the counter
So, I stood up
A little bit dazed
Looked around
Lady Luck tapping her toe
And as unpredictable as ever
Father Time with his
Overwhelming presence
And Cupid always playing me
The fool
Stood patiently
Waiting for my next move
So, I shrugged my shoulders
And brushed myself off
Turned around
And to their surprise
Walked
Right
Out
That door

How's The Weather Up There?

At what point
Did you moving out
Without a word
And the terror I felt
Not knowing what happened
When did this trauma
and inability to process that night
While never seeing it coming
Make me the one
Abandoning you?
When throughout our years together
Did my constant silence
And fear to confront you
Because of what you might do to yourself
Make me the one
Who is the monster?
When after giving you my soul
And having you drain it dry
While sucking out my emotions
Life a vampire
Whose thirst can never be quenched
Make me a controlling and manipulative
Person
When did your insecurities
Make me a traitor to your love
As I gave it to you without question
with such devotion?
How can you sit so high atop your mountain
And roll stones down at me
As I try to climb out of this mess

Does Your Finger Hurt From All That Pointing?

"Don't you think you are abandoning
her?"
She asked
I couldn't answer that
Because how do I possibly comprehend
How you can
Abandon
Someone who's already abandoned
you?

The Luckiest Man I've Seen

A blind man walks
Down the street
With a smile on his face
His freedom
So sweet
I've seen countless people
Searching for something
Desperately
Trying to figure it out
Grabbing, pushing, walking over
Everything
To fill themselves with something
I've seen others
Running from, hiding, and ignoring
Their reality
I've seen many more
Suffocating, withering, hurting
From the choices that they make
I've seen countless people
doing countless things
But this man
Who is walking down the street
With his freedom
and happiness
Has no care or concern
For the cars that pass him by
He just smiles and presses on
As they all swerve and stop
He never flinches
Just keeps moving
Forward
That man with his freedom
Whose sight failed years ago
Is the luckiest man
I've ever seen

Still Walking

Charles
I'm 25
Soon to be divorced
almost 26
That's a hard pill to swallow
No wife
No children
Just these two
damn cats
I don't like
cats
Well, it's not that bad
I did go to counseling
Alone
I did go through this marriage
Alone
And I write
Alone
But hell Charles
When I think about it
I walked through that fire
With my head
Held high
And boy did I look
good

Streetlight Revelations

The city lights

Seem so distant

From where I sit

At my second story

Apartment window

I rest for a while

Unable to focus

Thinking of all the

Things that could have been

better

Bust mostly the're 

All wrong

It's a struggle 

With people

Too busy

To care

Or even listen

But then I see

A light flicker on

From a house

Not too far

Down the road

And I think

Maybe

Someone else

Figured it out

Wise Men Do Their Laundry At Midnight

I met him

In the laundry room

It was getting late

And he wanted to talk

So I listened

He talked of traffic

And accidents

About gas spills

And ruptured tanks

He mentioned

All the accidents

He's been in

Along with the injuries

He's sustained

Finally, he said

to me,

You know

With all this trouble

That's I've been through

When I get behind the wheel

I just know

No matter what

Is around that corner

I need to just enjoy

The ride

As if it's

my last

Showers And Solitude

I took A shower

Today

Like no other

Each drop of water

Fell from heaven

And each splash

Echoed 

A blessed

Reminder

That in this shower

There was no church

No religion

There was just

This water

which fell

From heaven

To me

They Broke It Long Ago

When they took everything

From my house

Including

My wife

They left

My apartment

In shambles

When cleaning up

I found my cross carving

Broken

I picked it up

And placed it

On the wall

It was missing

His arm

I realized then

Just like the force 

That destroyed

My carving

Religion

Can be used

To ruin

A beautiful

Soul

Talking To A Wall

Hello, can anyone here me?
I'm just checking
You know
Sometimes
I start to wonder
When dealing with
My in-laws
If I really
Exist

Be Cautious Of Forces Beyond Your Control

When I was little
I had a hamster
One week we went on vacation
And I made sure to give it
All the food it could ever need
And enough water
To drown a cat
We came home
A week later
My hamster was dead
Crushed by a giant magnet
My dad had placed on the
Top of the cage door
Which collapsed
Under the weight
And crushed my hamster
Hopefully
While he slept

I Can't Seem To Get Past This Just Yet

Here I am again
Unable to sleep
With work in the morning
And I'm just sitting here
Looking at these walls
Or maybe
Trying to look through them
I don't know
But then again
Everyone has walls
Mine are no different
I do have one problem though
I seem to have forgotten
A door

Too Many Mosquitoes And Not Enough Repellent

Your resilient
They said
With a kind soul
And a warm heart
Your an asshole
She said
With a huge ego
And you never listen
And some others
They didn't even
say anything
Finally
Look I said
I know who I am.
Now leave me alone
So I can figure out
Who
All you crazy people
Are

From Beyond

I called them today
Left a message
"Hello, this is Samuel.
I hope Kate's all right.
Listen, I'm looking for her dad.
I'd like to talk."
I hung up
Waited
Listened
The Phone never rang
I knew it was silly
But I hoped
The dead
Could speak

The Wisest Men Often Play The Fool

I have a neighbor

He wears glasses

That are thicker

Than storm windows

And his cards

That were dealt

Were pretty low

His job

Isn't that great

He's been hit by cars

That don't care to stop

For crosswalks

Or pedestrians for that matter

I've seen others

Laughing at him

Because he's different

And someone has asked me

Since I'm his friend

Why he's always so

Happy

Even with his condition

And with his luck

I said,

He knows something

Greater than any

Wise man,  preacher, prophet

Or any of us for that matter

Will ever know

and has us all

fooled

Shit Grins And Baby Puke

We had a cart pusher

Where I worked

Every day

Rain

Sun

Snow

Sometimes worse

He pushed those 

Dang carts

One right after the other

In a monotonous 

routine

Every time I saw him

Cleaning up baby shit

Or taking care of trash

And cleaning the restrooms

He had a great big fucking grin

On his face

He knew real poetry

He was living it

A Mistake

I've lost so many poems today

Aborted all of them

in my head

Jesus,

The Catholics must be

pissed.

What's On The Menu?

A good Poem

Is like a fat steak

Some like it rare

Some well done

Others likes it

In between

And are never happy

With the service

It doesn't really matter

How they like it though

You're in a diner

And you're the chef

So you might as well just

Make it to order

Ding that damn bell

And move on

To the next

Not All Heroes Are Loved

He rung me up on the telephone

"Are you happy with the man

That you've become?" he asked

I should have replied

To this brute who called me

Up and asked,

"Are you happy?"

Yes, yes I am

For 2 years now

I've saved her

From you

Milestones

I remember my brother's

High school graduation

And now I sit here

Bored

He's Graduating again

This time from college

And I'm still stuck here

Writing

Maybe it's about time

I get up from this crap

And move on

Whispers Of The Dead

I used to write

The way the poets

Told me to

With rhythm 

And rhyme

And structure

But then I realized

What good did that do them?

Their dead

And their words

Their message

Lay on book shelves

Collecting dust

Waiting to be read

By someone 

Like me

Written With Lipstick

That message on the mirror

That you left me

Did get my attention

Of all the times

We never fought

Because I was

Afraid

And the times

I let you down

When there was never

A chance to hold you up

That mirror

Really got my attention

And it wrote back

I love you

Those Damn Legs

I'd watch her every night

In the bathtub

Blessing that water

With those beautiful legs

She always left that door

Wide open

And I thought

She was beautiful

That's the funny thing

About doors

They can swing

Both ways

And that door

Which let me see

Those beautiful legs

Closed

And they were

gone

Conversation At 5 AM

I'm up at 5 am

I keep talking

That's what this really is

Talking

I must admit though

I'm a little offbeat

But who wouldn't be?

In my situation

Wife's gone

Alone in a motel

Most people are here

for different reasons

Not me

I only sit at this table

Talking

To you of all people

We must be close

Or maybe not

Who knows

Fuck it

I'm going to bed

This day was worthless

As was this conversation

And the sex

In the next room over

How To Write Poetry

Try not to make love to yourself

with your words

because that gets

messy

try not to excommunicate everyone

with your message

because that gets 

lonely

try to

be yourself

write well

and if you succeed 

someone

finds a connection

from them

to you

and they understand

and you understand

that it's

a miracle

An Early Morning Shower

It now pours out of me

like a shower head

sometimes there isn't

enough pressure

and it's 

too cold

so I turn it up

and it burns me

but still washes away

the stench of

the routine

the pain of

not feeling

boredom,

that's what it must be

most of the times though

when it pours out

I just watch it

go down

the drain

Where Do I Come Up With This Shit?

Don't write

it's a torment

you'll soon realize

all your greatest work

becomes lost

on wet napkins

or smeared hands

on road trips

or business hours

even in the shower

and on the john

God,

my most beautiful shit

is never written down

A Smooth Transition

These walls

so unfamiliar

but the sounds are

so familiar

running water

cars racing 

to 

nowhere

talking, yelling

even laughter

it's all the same shit

the only difference?

I'm alone

She'll Be Back

She's never coming back

I know that

She knew that

Hell, they all know that

But,

Like we always do

We lied

Like this poem

Thinking

She'll be back

Soon

Use The Whole Page You Damn Poets

Why do we write

and fill

so little

space

so little

time

so little

creativity

while the meaning

is meaningless

in comparison

to the size

of all these

empty

organized

ordinary

lines

An Ugly Reminder

Obsessions

they never help

some crave pain

some attention

others spirit 

or mind

I feel these hotel walls

as my obsession

not for fame

or women

or money

but for the necessity

of things to come

Pointless Addictions

If your excuse 

for writing

is

There is no other way

never start

because

once you do

and those damn gates open

you'll never

be able

to stop

Motel Room Records

The first time

was in a motel room

I was all alone

at a desk

abandoned, desperate

writing

not for necessity

but for survival

pages were already

full

with words

so determined

and all the while

voices

in the other rooms

celebrated life

while I

wrote it

down

Women Are Some Kind of Miracle

God

Created the world

In 6 days

And rested

On the next

We all know

He didn't need

Time 

For a rest

And we all know

She'll never

be back

Motel Secrets

Everyone asked what I did

While in New York

I said,

I wrote poetry

In a motel room

She said

Motel rooms 

Are the best place

To write poetry

I agreed

And thought 

Your poetry

Involves two souls

Not one

The Good Days

Sometimes I have

Good days

Sun's bright

The right things

Are said

Meet someone

New

Read something

Good

Inspiring

Meaningful

But those days

Like leap years

Are always taking

An eternity

To make things right

No Toll Booths Just Time

Where are we going

when we drive down 95

some slow

some fast

others crazy

with their blinker

on

and never turning

we are all just

the same people

some slow

some fast

most crazy

desperately going

nowhere

Solution To My Problem

It's 2 am and I'm trying to sleep

The neighbor downstairs 

is screaming

at her own window

at her own lover

on the first floor

drunk

I sigh

pull up a chair and watch

two fucked up people

soon to be making love

while I'm

alone

An Unwelcomed Midnight Dip

On nights 

Like these
I’m too tired

For sleep
For these annoying 

Things
Keep swimming 

In my head
And exhaustion 

Is tugging
Gently 

At my sheets
Trying to pull me 

under
Into the subconscious 

Pool
Of midnight dreams
And these things 

I tell you
They keep swimming 
Never tiring 

Annoying as ever
For their constant 

Splashes
And joyful 

Laughter
Echo 

From side to side

Each with its own 

Technique
Backstroke
Butterfly
Doggy paddle
Froggy style
Finished off
With a cannonball

Rippling
In my head 
Which no pill
Can ever

still

Beyond Repair

I'm tired of this fighting that goes on inside of me.
Every day I hope someone will be able to see
The torment that consumes me

I go on with this false hope
Fake smiles just so I can cope
I tell myself it will be all right
But that dream is so far out of sight

Gone beyond repair
I like to blame others saying it's not fair
But I know when I look in the mirror
Things seem to get a little clearer

I will never let them know
I will never let them see
It's not them I hate, it’s me.

It's Not About What You Want

Did you want 

something sweet

with words 

that whisper

of lovers

slender legs

wrapped between 

bed sheets

or maybe

something deeper

like a bulimic

on hands and knees

praying

in a bathroom

with holy water 

running

down the sink

to drown out

her ritualistic 

chant

not tonight

my friend

tonight

I can't

fucking

sleep

A Vase Full of Memories

Withered petals on a pool of tears.

Once were beautiful, now are brown.

A cruel remembrance of all the years.

Withered petals on a pool of tears.

Plucked one, by one, by irrational fears.

Leaving us empty, with just a frown.

Withered petals on a pool of tears.

Once were beautiful, now are brown.

Mechanics of The Soul

Open up

Shine within

Shutting down

Disabling sin

Gears in motion

Truth being told

Friction of feelings

Once were cold

Vibrating hum

Explosive emotion

Powerful, forgiving

Inside locomotion

Mathmatics of The Liberal Arts

Madness is the teaching in his preaching

"Math, Math!" he shouts to students

Whose minds are now filled with doubts

"Is he sane? Is he here?"

They asked each other with nervous laughter

He continues, unaware of the growing confusion

Trying desperately to bring rationality

To the irrational minds of the youth

Infinity, Axioms, Distributive law,

All beyond a liberal arts understanding

Classroom Notes

Professors, preaching education to their class

Students, minds closed thoughts bare

Sleeping, drawing, wondering how long this will last

Professors, preaching education to their class

Students, minds wondering, blank stares

Professors, preaching education to their class

Students, minds closed, thoughts bare.

Classroom Attendance

Listening

To every word

While at full attention

Eyes fixed on the teacher

Gripping every bit of knowledge

In extended rows from top to bottom

The overwhelming presence of vacant chairs.

An Empty Chair

Empty seats at full attention

Bodies erect 

Eyes on the teacher

Never moving not even their stare

Listening

To every word

Wisdom of the ages reveals itself

With no vessels

To contain it

It slips away in the empty classroom

And there's nothing there

But an empty chair

College

Nights of drunk laughter

Fused with afternoon slumber

In seats of knowledge

Seasons

Summer

Rhythmic waves rising

Over sun burnt slender legs

Resting on baked sand

Fall

Preparing slumber

under colorful crisp leaves

Blanketing the ground

Winter

Cold frost nipped noses

With sticky wet wool mittens

And soggy soaked socks

Spring

Submerged rubber boots

With cheerful splashes of joy

Sinking in brown muck

Animals

The puppy is a mischievous child

in it's terrible twos and looking for trouble.

The cat is a fish

swimming in a sea of grass.

The bird is a messenger

singing the signal of approaching danger.

The flea is an athlete

leaping and lunging for the gold.

The mouse is a hermit

who scampers and scurries out of sight.

The spider is a butcher

setting up shop for all to see.

The loon is a lunatic

yelling and yearning for someone to listen.

The coyote is a punk

Prowling and pillaging his local street.

The dragonfly is a kamikaze pilot

screaming and smashing into car windows.

The mosquito is a vampire

whose desire and delight is its next bite.

Hidden Agenda

Hidden agenda, hidden agenda, hidden agenda

Hidden agenda that's not for the people

But for the big thinkers

and puppet politicians.

Hidden agenda lets tip our hat and smile

With a hand in the poor mans pocket.

Hidden agenda lets reform taxes

And drop a little more in a rich mans suit.

Hidden agenda, hidden agenda, hiddean agenda

Hidden agenda lets cast a vote.

Hang Chad for his indecisiveness

And kiss all the frowning babies faces.

Hidden agenda lets remove the tyrant

And suck their land dry.

Hidden agenda lets save the people

And wave our flag. 

Beginning To End

Bubble filled sinks and pull-up diapers

For the innocent smiles and fresh kicking feet

Sponge baths and bed pans

For the stiff bones and hard of hearing

All done with a mother's gentle touch

Mother's in the newest style

Urging you on with a big smile

Every step new and exciting

Nurses in faded gowns of white

Helping you down the hall

Every wobbly step one after another

Life's first breath released

So delicate in mother's arms

Death's fresh scent draws near

To the helpless and bedridden

From beginning to end

The Old Folks Home

There are people in old folks homes

Whose usefulness has been deemed bare

They stay, never able to roam

Forced to wait for death's dreary glare

These people in the homes of old

Once had lives that were full of choice

But now are forced to do as told

Losing it all, even their voice

Who I Was

I used to capture

the beauty of a bulimic

and the wisdom

from an overlooked crumb

I once reached

deep into the cosmos

and painted a glittering sky

of pure

unimaginable emotion

I remember seeing

people

for all they could be

and not

what they could do 

for me

I dreamed 

of sorrow then

and felt deeper

then the murky depths

of the ocean

most of all

I remember

so strongly

being able

to save

all those

who needed

a savior

but now

I am the one

who needs to be

saved.

A Gamers Crutch

My executive chair
is like a park bench
and my laptop
is like a bottle in a bag
drowning

my sorrows
ignoring those around me
it's all the same 

really
but just a different reality
one man kills himself
with alcohol 

and drugs
another kills himself
with poor health 

and loneliness

I Like To Place The Obituaries And The Funnies Side By Side

I've always known

one doesn't become a popular poet 

until they're dead.

Some poets

just knew that earlier then  most. 

Some, 

found this the the most amusing

because they also knew 

they were running

desperately

out of time.

Good guys don't care what place they finish; only jerks do.