do not stand for me and wait
i won’t be there. it ain’t my trait.
i’ll be gone before you even know
along with gushing winds over the snow
i am the blinding light of your blues
i am the rain of a thousand hues
do not stand there and act shocked
you listened as well but never walked
when the stars drown you every night
i am the sailor of their guiding light
do not stand for me and try
i am not there. i did not die.
how I write poetry.
those words that
rhyme together in an
unusual way that
stays, with you
and the ones getting
wet in their rain.
there’s no secret, darling.
and their poetry that
you claim to see
is not even real.
the only poetry
I ever saw was in
your wild hair, hypnotizing
its audience in the
wild wind ampitheatre
and in your
eyes, when you look
at me, and
the smell of coffee and rain,
takes me back
it’s all white and black,
to the times simpler and sane.
i’ll be the last one leavin’,
before you close the door
& can’t scream no more,
i’ll lick your inside,
like my hot black coffee
on a gray rainy evenin’.
Shall I compare you to a rainy day?
You are more thunderous and wet
with misery, giving turbulent winds a way,
Reminiscence of the time we met,
Sometimes too noisy for the eager ear,
And often making the landscape dreary,
Always gray and too much to bear,
Exploring and exploiting the confused and weary,
But your eternal excitement will never fade,
Nor the smile you put on my face will die,
For you’ll be the broken star to whom I prayed,
Leaving behind a trail of stardust in that rainy sky,
So long as your heart can see what’s essential & right,
So long lives this, and you, and your yellow light.
just tear drops.
until one day
wind, with his
and told her
They could be
clock ticking away.
unwanted but complete
in his emptiness.
Why didn’t you get that job?
Why didn’t she call you back?
Why did no one like your blog post?
Why did you fall in love?
Why did you say no when you knew you wanted to say yes?
Why did it rain when you planned everything out so perfectly?
That’s the thing. It happens.
It just happens.
Sometimes there’s no explanation to things that happen with us or around us.
Sometimes they just happen without any reason.
Sometimes there’s no logic or pattern.
And we try so hard to figure out the answer to the big WHY.
Just to see at the end of the road that there’s no answer.
There’s nothing that can tell you WHY.
Because sometimes, it just happens.
the windshield wipers
to my heart
saw rivulets of raindrops
trickling down the glass
I was the center
in my storm of isolation.
i’m out of dark stouts
the car splashed all over clothes
they stole my bike
they stole my painting with
two purple eyes
bugs climb on the windows
my will’s broken
my string wouldn’t play the
but the stock market went