Monday, February 11, 2008


people strive to have
some kind of company
i need to remain

My isolation
reminds me of when i was
happy, better off

but who really wants,
that. loneliness is a killer
that i often lust for.

if the silence takes you then i hope it takes me too

then after all of this,
you will be happy and gone,
me: I'll be remaining here.

Tripping in and Out of Our World and Theirs

Rusting pipes drip filthy water onto the cold concrete floor.
The world isn't ending,
it hasn't even begun yet.
Each trip sends a tremor down my spine,
Where am I?
What hell is this?

The clouds above hold saintly presence above us.
Heaven is looking down,
and we are looking up.
I am walking around in a dream,
Yet wide awake?
So damn awake.

While the rust breaks the pipes and the clouds shelter the people
and heaven is watching and the world is ending
and we are straining our necks watching
and i am walking around,

i am tripping in and out of our world and theirs,
and theirs isn't much worse.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Sweet Melodies Once Sounded So Stale

the wind carries dusty leaves as they blow
to unknown destinations
in the middle of the road,
or an empty parking lot.

the wind carries sweet melodies,
once sounded so sweet,
a poet's heart couldn't contain his joy,
but alas, seasons like in life change,

the wind carries dusty leaves,
as dead as the pulse of the melodies,
that now sound so stale.