Believe it or not I’m already thinking of ideas for another poetry collection that will have obviously new poems in it and related to specific subject matter. When it is ready, they will be able to to purchased for a small price in e-book and print on demand that will cost a little more. I don’t know when it will be released, but I’m learning to go with the flow. It’s all in a day’s progress to remain calm while knowing I want to complete many writing ideas and rejoice a little bit when it is finally published. Until more later, keep writing writers, keep dreaming dreamers, and keep creating creators.
It's What I Got (April 2021) If that day ever arrives, I will not thank you, even if you beg. You will not be able to use my name. That will be for sure. That will be for sure. One year of learning turned into twenty-five years of payback. And no, I have not seen a better life. I have not gained more. I actually have lost something within me. After all these years, I still question. Did I do the right thing? Did I make the right choice? Is my dream dead? I could be twenty years closer to the end. There is only forgiving myself and yet, as I feel this bitterness within me, I know it isn't right. You did not drag me across state lines. But, there was the temptation on your fishing line. A half-eaten worm I saw as whole. This was the lie you gave me, and I swallowed it, no objections whatsoever. I should have spit the worm out sooner. Another twenty years, I wonder if my irritation will be gone. Will this be the situation I have not resolved? Some only have six, others have one-hundred and counting, more have fifteen, and most under thirty. The cravings, the urgings, and the visions are there. For either the meaning has changed, or I have not changed at all.
Finger Snap (April 2021)
If I snap my fingers, will all my mistakes be undone?
Will all the years I have kicked myself for doing this and doing that be erased?
No, I don’t think so. No, it’s not possible. No, it can’t be done.
This isn’t a pop in a VHS tape and rewind as far you I need.
If I go too far, I can play it back to see where I am now.
But what if I don’t want to see that part of my life again?
It was too painful. It was too embarrassing. It was too long ago.
Someone asked me if I’d like to be invisible.
I said yes, I would. Why?, he asked me.
Because why not?
I could sneak into rooms and hear how people truly felt about me.
I could see how many enemies I have and so few friends.
It might give me the power I need to get ahead.
Be that ass kisser I saw all the time, be that person I never wanted to be,
The one where if you act worthy and busy, you are okay to them.
The unwelcome wagon came and kicked me off in the middle of nowhere.
People giving unsolicited advice.
You don’t know what we need or how we feel.
Your time was long ago and your opinion doesn’t matter.
Keep your mouth shut.
Mistakes were made that can’t be undone.
I know this and so do countless others.
Once the energy rebounds in my fingers, I will snap them again.
Where will you be? Will you hear it?
I Once Knew You (March 2021)
I stand before you not as a friend or enemy.
You once regarded me worthy to hold your hand,
as you puked alongside the toilet after a night’s drinking.
Who do you think got rid of the foul smell?
It was I who pulled the yellow gloves up my scrawny arms.
The material scratching my delicate flesh.
My allergy ridden bumps I’m embarrassed to show.
You never once thanked me for resting your head on a pillow.
Without my attention, your neck would’ve been stiff,
you stubborn minded princess wearing your broken crown.
When you woke up, I didn’t expect anything, although
a cup of coffee from Starbucks would’ve been a nice gesture.
You knew the height of my commitment.
I don’t know how far I should stand away from you now.
I would’ve done anything for you, anything had you called.
My name doesn’t seem to matter.
Do you remember what we called each other?
You once understood my calling.
It wasn’t to chase you after lengthy condemnations and pinching.
My wanting was disguised in your need of me.
There is nothing I can do, not even wait, not even ask
for a more suitable alternative.
Mystical Mood (March 2021)
You affect something within me, not in a twisted way.
One could describe it as the kind of wonder, wanting more.
I could fly as the mythical phoenix restoring its power.
The voice transporting me into a new wonderful.
I will swim in the warm waters and take comfort in the sand.
Do not come around me in the state you are, they ask impolitely.
You are not ready to comfort the others.
The Sepulchre takes forever to find once the sun sets.
One could describe it as getting too close to the truth.
Seven Haiku Poems (March 2021)
A Crooked Mouth
Pearly whites appear,
Mouth upturned at the corners,
The smile wide again.
A Winter Hibernation
Gather hairs and rocks,
Stuff them into hibernation.
Close eyes to the light.
The Lotus Disappears
Sacred roots deep down,
The Sight of a Rainbow
Scent of the freshness –
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet,
Allow it to reveal.
A Quick Hailstorm
Small orbs of pure white!
Pinging on the cars delight,
Not strong for a kite.
In the desert heat,
Feeling the coolness at night –
Still not as before.
Killing the Ants
March in a straight line,
Face forward, legs underneath,
They want to live too.
Filling the Jar (March 2021)
Fill the jar with red cinnamon bears.
Eat them until your mouth burns.
Fill the jar with black sunflower seeds.
Suck the salt before you crack the shells.
Fill the jar with green jellybeans.
Eat them until your stomach hurts.
Fill the jar with tinfoil wrapped chocolates.
Peel each one as you bite it with your front teeth.
Fill the jar with yellow Lemonheads.
Eat them until your face puckers.
Fill the jar with white lilacs
Bring them to your nose and breath deeply.
Big Dipper (March 2021)
This is called for what it is, between the third and fourth hour, and it is called man.
It hums and sings louder with every beat.
It draws into itself, tall with fingers as willowy as his body.
It is kindness that people enjoy when the man comes knocking on all kinds of doors.
Lightly at first, then with each successive knock, more irresistible.
Woman should have been asleep, but the earlier shocks had not subsided.
With dry mouth, awakened women open their minds to a thousand de-evolutions of their bodies.
It is not birthdays that the souls remember.
Woman does not spend equal time on concrete as she does on dirt and sand and rocks.
This did not go well for her. She is damaged with odd sensations.
Her friends and family are miles away as the stars she prays to in the sky.
They are the seven stars everyone knows.
The man points with his long fingers at the Big Dipper. He claims it as his own.
The woman wants direction, which way to navigate her fifth hour.
She does it by finding another constellation.
Shakespeare vs. Poe (March 2021)
Tis not I who holds tight onto the past, looking in glass bottles for salvation of the heart.
Thou come here, wagging fingers at me, spewing words of superiority.
Tis not I possessing inferior words but thee with unkempt hair and foul breath.
How dare thou show your unshaven face in a time such as this!
Before thou open your mouth and show me yellow teeth, remember this.
Thou sound like a chained man.
Thee are the intolerable and ghastly man disguised as a writer.
Readers might admire the hairs on your head, but I know better to be fooled.
Immortality does not last for a man like me and neither does it for you.
Women are only ghosts haunting during the night.
Tis not some woman with flowing hair at thee door.
Shameless man, how far does thee well go down into hell?
Do not disguise thee self with guilt in your heart.
Tis the fountain dried already? Must the loneliness overtake the moon in the sky?
Long, drawn out explanations of sadness has cut everything in half.
The raven means nothing while napping.
Absurd man with the Elizabethan ruff. Time for me to ask questions.
Thou come into my domain. I have owned it since my birth.
Proclaiming my inferiority of the words I write.
If tis was not viciously repugnant, I might find thee a little bit admirable.
Go near a perfumed woman called the wife and leave me be.
I hath no need for further condemnation, but to find favor in the mystery.
Cancel Culture (February 2021)
Grab it all up in your arms and put it in a black bag.
This is what we don’t need anymore.
All of it needs to be forgotten and dumped in the landfill.
But at what result? At what cost?
Cities should be more pure and cleaner now.
People from small and large countries have torn down statues.
Flags are no longer powerful than their symbolic gesture.
We gave them the middle finger.
We are one step closer to the ultimate goal.
The dumb have nothing to hide behind.
But is it misleading? Will it make people wiser?
Nothing remains except the best and brightest.
This is what perfect societies desire.
It it not an accurate reflection in crowded streets celebrating their victories.
We can fall one step behind.
We might forget the history of our parents.
The reason we are here in the first place.
But do they care? Who will help them?
Suppress all the facts and swallow only the good.
The bad never existed for us.
Our differences need not be written ever again.
But why? Who are you protecting?
The Six Cupcakes (February 2021)
In the elementary school carnival, I had my eyes on the cupcakes.
The white frosting on some and green on others.
They all had sprinkles to entice me to pay good money.
They were regarded as the big prize as did every other student.
I won small plastic prizes or tiny rubber monsters I put on my fingers.
I wasn’t able to eat them.
When I became a bookworm in middle school, I focused on a boy.
He would never look at me the way he looked at her.
The gym beauty with non-permed hair like myself and a crooked smile.
There was no one to blame but my lack of popularity.
When I roamed the halls of high school, I no longer thought of the cupcakes.
The chance of winning anything had passed me by.
I learned how to ignore the mental assaults from deep within.
I turned it outward and felt sorry for those who tried too hard.
In the college and university learning freak show, I wanted to fit in.
Most people took it in stride but some did not and it hurt.
There was no chance of biting into any normal looking cupcake.
I had the one with the melted frosting.
Since the beginning to the end of all school years, I had a different reality.
One where I needed restraint and didn’t always have it.
I excelled in the areas with little promise.
Winning those six cupcakes wouldn’t have changed my trajectory.
In the elementary school carnival, those six cupcakes never had power I once thought.
Years of experiencing reality taught me to accept loss, both of the mouth and hands.
I would’ve given anything to have those cupcakes long ago.
It would’ve made my life sweeter for sure but at what cost.
Unity (February 2021)
Rubberband and rubberband, stretched out and worn.
Holding together too wide of opinions.
Asking too much of the rubberband and rubberband.
Writing letters of disappointment, how could you?
and how dare you? and God won't forgive!
The words repeated still ringing in my ears.
Tension, tension, spreading like a virus.
Powerful as corona and invisible until it is seen.
Unable to contain it and not taking responsibility.
Reading the aftermath of disapproval of decision making.
How dare you have your own voice!
How dare you have your independence!
Rubberband, grab two to replace the old and broken.
Hold together what is leftover.
Still asking too much of the rubberband and rubberband.
Tread on Me (February 2021)
It’s okay to tread on yourself. I don’t care. I don’t mind.
It’s what I thought it’d be. It’s what I knew you’d be.
The flag is raised and flows free in the wind. It never stops moving.
You made certain that flag never belonged to me.
I’m not from your city. I’m not part of your plan.
You made this clear. It's what you didn’t say.
You only see the snake in the grass for what it represents.
It strikes enemies close and far away.
Steer your eyes down. Your enemy looks like you too.
It slithers below and the flag is only fabric in your hand.
It’s not all powerful. It’s not the true answer.
The Song I Never Heard (February 2021)
The song I heard from the car radio.
I had no idea who sung it but that voice carried me
to the next stop sign and I waited.
I thought about one million recycled things I had lost
interest in, struggling to find a way to personal victory.
A new song started and I knew this one reminded me
of a time when there was more to capture.
When dreams were not dyed the ugly colors they are now.
The moment when I did not fully realize.
My turn to drive and now my hands are purple.
The song I want to hear has been overplayed.
This singer has many secrets. He does.
It's a connection we have. He does not know me but I know him.
I know about his struggles. I read about it in a book.
It could have been called "Life Sucks." Or maybe, "My Bad."
I need a new song. One that increases my energy flow.
It makes things alright again.
I have not been to a music store for years.
Virgin is gone. Best Buy carries Taylor Swift.
Amoeba is relocating and closed for a long lasting reason.
I suffer the unforeseen consequences.
I wanted it all back in the day.
What I would not do to give it all away but keep the
parts that brought me happiness.
I would wait forever but no thanks, not anymore.
Hiding Behind His Sentences (February 2021)
If you hide behind your words, I will hide behind mine.
It’s plain and simple.
It’s called tit for tat.
If you want to compare wrongdoings, I will cite my sources well.
It’s not difficult to read.
I’ll hold it closer to your glasses if you need help.
If you want to claim authority, I will do you one better.
It’s called I hold the big key.
It’s called you hold nothing but air.
If you want to use trickery, I will treat you with my antidote.
It’s called remember four years ago.
It’s called remember that time when.
If you hide behind your lies, I will hide behind mine.
It’s fair and rational.
It’s called tat for tit.
C is for Culture (February 2021)
I saw that flag being held. I’ve seen it on trucks. I’ve seen it on T-shirts.
I know what it stands for and what it means.
I know all of those things because I have to know.
I’m on the other side. The good side to most. The bad side to more than a few.
I wish I could say this was the end. We are opening a new door.
We are not. It’s only the beginning.
A century long war over power beat into the minds of one day.
The day everyone will remember.
The day that will take years to quell the disturbance and noise.
The day I saw that Confederate flag in the Capitol.
The rioter holding it proudly. He had something to say and say he did.
He talked himself right into the grips of three hots and a cot.
Flags like that need to stay at home.
Someone should’ve alerted him about its consequences.
He’s a grown man. He knows what the flag represents.
It means the “good ol’ days” where “men were men” and “women were women.”
I have another flag in my arsenal. I haven’t seen it on any car.
I haven’t even seen it on T-shirts.
I created it within me and I know what it doesn’t mean.
I know all the things it represents. I can be on all sides.
I can see all sides. I am all sides and recognize them.
I’d never say the door is closing. It isn’t.
It is open somewhere and I am also somewhere.
We have more days to remember. The collective we. The you and me.
The days that don’t care who changed the direction.
We can say your culture was never my culture to embrace,
But I see it. I know it. I hear it. I feel it.
It means the grown-ups will challenge but at what human cost.
Bromance (February 2021)
I said to myself those words.
It’s the same phrase I repeated.
“What a dumbass.”
It reminds me how it changed me.
How low they have become and immersed in self-pity.
These people I didn’t care about a year ago, I pay
attention to these mannequins.
“Are they really saying that?”
No, they can’t be. They wouldn’t be so stupid.
I have to say again. I use a different word with the same meaning.
“They wouldn’t be so moronic.”
He became a man who kissed the dirty hand.
Within the last month, he rejected the ground they shared in common.
Within the last week, I saw he was worthless.
The rest of them,
No backbone, no pride, no pool too shallow.
I have the same words to say.
It’s not much different than what I thought before.
Maybe it is and I’m too chickenshit to share it.
Insurgency (January 2021)
Count to ten. Let’s begin again.
Never mind, we can’t, the time has already passed.
The march was clear as the day began.
Breeding violence with words and action.
Clamping down on all kinds of numbers.
Those who breach can’t reverse the high.
The impact was severe. The damage was done.
Count to one, let’s not do this again.
Remember, we don’t have to, a choice not realized.
The break was evident as night fell.
Pointing fingers with bullhorns and crutches.
Refusing to believe this was a lie.
Those who return can’t produce an apology.
The sentence was swift. The death was historical.
Mensa Men (January 2021)
You’re proud of yourself. Holding your head high.
The space underneath you invisible to your shoes.
The next step you take. Ask yourself when the image fades.
The same song will repeat the next hour.
You’re holding onto the day too tight.
When the shapes dissolve, never to come back, you will hear that sound.
It’s the one that keeps you up at night.
It raises a glass to your blood pressure. Getting closer to the pounding edge.
You used to know what it felt like to be tired and low.
Sentences said under my breath now I say out loud.
You aren’t who I thought you’d be. High up in the loft.
Time to shut your mouth and open your ears.
No matter how many classes you took and drinks you made, it’s time to stop.
It isn’t nice to speak from the ass for too long.
Come to my level and call me average. It’s okay.
You don’t have to wait for the sign.