Be who you are…

Why whisper when you can scream? When you live….live loud. Why sleep when you can dream? Never settle or compromise yourself for a world that is anything less then what you imagined it would be. There are so many people who change themselves or conform to the standards everyone else has set. What value is a person who is merely a duplicate?  

I’ve never cared about what people have thought of me, nor the expectations others has set for me.  I am who I am. What you see is what you get. Any alterations to the person I am have derived from within.

All the let downs….the relationships…the mistakes….the obstacles I’ve overcome…all the drama, the happiness, the craziness, the sadness…have formed the person I’ve become today. When all is said and done, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Champagne & Cigarettes

Champagne and cigarettes,

Bound by paper and pen,

Spinning in endless circles,

The thought dances in her head.

 To risk it all or play it safe?

 The question lingers in the air

As the smoke drifts up and the bubbles rise

Not knowing is the answer,

An answer that she hates.

Memories and fantasies take control.

And still the question bellows in the smoke.

A facade dances across her face

 As if it’s desperately trying to hold the truth.

 In the depths of her eyes you can see it all;

The longing to be loved surmounts the shimmer of the night.

 She dances as if no one is watching,

 Her moves are peaceful, flowing with the cadence of the music,

Yet the song within her is filled with effortless sorrow.

 As symphony concludes

She exits with a smile

and a tear.

Whiskey Remebers

In the seedy corner of the bar, he sits alone
With a grin on his face, yet he couldn’t look more forlorn
The cadence of the music slowly fills his body
Liquor in hand, he starts to tap his foot
Rocking back and forth, reclining to the beat
The smoke drifts slowly to the ceiling and he remembers her smile
Starring aimlessly off into the darkness of the room
He takes a sip of his whiskey
Wishing he was anywhere but here, anywhere with her
In a bar I once knew, there sits a man, stale as old dew
Drinks brought to him, timeless and vagrant, never vodka, never gin
Whiskey sings to him throughout the night
Women pass by; endless arrays of beauty catch his attention for a brief moment,
But their movements are but dark, silent shadows grazing the edges of his senses
His eyes begin to wander; he forgets all the smiles, all of them,
But one.



The ink...

The fear, anger, disappointment and anguish one keeps locked away pour out onto the paper. The ink becomes the soul. It is the blood, sweat, hopes and dreams of the poet. It’s exactly how that person is feeling at that exact moment. You cannot justify it nor attempt to understand the thoughts racing through one’s mind at that very moment when the pen hits the paper. It’s pointless to try. It’s in the unrestrained and un-premeditated moments that one can truly release emotion. It’s laughing and weeping all together molded as one. Imaginary walls collapse and the soul is free; if only for a brief moment.

It’s the broken-ness in one’s soul that draws the greatness to the words. I believe broken-ness is beauty. Those who live life with perfect, scarless porcelain skin don’t truly live. The scars prove that you have lived and have taken risks. Dont be ashamed of the scars and band-aids on your heart; they are proof that you exist and that you were…

It's like lighting fire to fake gold.

Red lipstick on a burning soul.

Laying still in a bed of gasoline

You left a match between the sheets.

Your ivory teeth sink into me,

just to taste whats underneath

If i ignite you, can I still put you out?

Scratching fingers down my luring spine.

I never meant to burn you down

but you looked so good against my mouth.

When the only light is just a heated dark,

not even sweat can soothe the spark.  

Someone Bring Me Here

Probably one of my all time favortie quotes about writing...

"I write poetry to talk back to Whitman.

I write poetry because my head contains 10,000 thoughts.

I write poetry because the English word 'inspiration' comes from the Latin word 'spiritus' (breath) and I want to breathe freely.

I write poetry because I suffer confusion not knowing what other people think.

I write poetry because it's the best way to say everything in my mind within 6 mintues to a lifetime..."

-Allen Ginsberg

Beneath the Stars

To live under the stars

but to love the ones above.

Devoured with the selfishness

to blend the two worlds

for only a moment's breath;

yet knowing it wouldn't be enough.

For the pain would continue on,

or worsen so.

The tears that sting your eyes

would become like razors

kissed by fire.

So we stay,

grounded beneath the stars

as others dance above.

Words...

As if I was searching for permanence within quicksand,
or trying to strike a flame with a broken match,
I’m cashing out so here’s my claim ticket
for the frenzied collection of addictions out of style.
Ill stop reaching for the poisoned fruit
hung up on the tree of truth.
If you’ll just meet me on the burning sea my friend,
And we’ll set sail skipping stones across the pond
with a map drawn out by dreams;
Following our hearts when our truth becomes their lies.
———————————————-
From the smallest seed
stems unguarded possibilities.
Reaching and waiting for the moment to break through.
The first taste of the sun consumes and leaves an
undeniable yearning for more.
At times hope seems dim
as the bud remains closed,
locked within the coldness of what was once
thought to be a dormant winter.
Still that small seed of hope carries on.
Waiting patiently for her turn to bloom.
Spring will return and the sun will shine once again,
Green with envy she will wait
until it is her turn to become the Rose.
————————————————
There are words at the bottom of this glass tonight
but I don’t think you’ll ever stick around to hear them.
The fire pulsates in the darkness
as my pen strikes the paper.
Piano notes dance into the night
as this deceptive glass refills itself
with cunning persuasiveness.
The luring words I once heard, so profound,
now fall on deaf ears.
I’ve learned to turn towards the south
When the sun turns north.
——————————————
Looking through a kaleidoscope,
searching for the stars
never realizing that the images projected are immersed
with deceit.
The pretense of what could be,
beauty laced with fabrication or sweet truth.
Tiny bits of rose colored glass
Consume the hopeless romantic.
——————————————
The wind blows and I feel your touch
The sun hits my skin and I feel you embrace
You’re everywhere
Just without a face
I feel your calmness wash over me
As my feet hit the sand
I touch the water as if I’m reaching for your hand
I take a deep breathe and release to you
All my worries and fears
Knowing you’ll take them away from me
I feel you kiss my forehead
And whisper “everything will be okay sweetie”
Just like you always did
Tears run from my sad eyes
And you catch them without hesitation
The wind blows and I feel you

Just go down to the vanishing point and take a left....

Life can sometimes be like driving down a rugged, turn-filled road at 95mph and you may end up losing control every now and then of your steering wheel. A merciless pothole comes along, jolting you off the road as the wheel kicks up dirt, but sometimes you're able to pull it back. Yet no matter how desperately you attempt to stay straight for the duration, something continues to draw you to the side. You have so little control over most things. And at some tiring point, the struggle becomes too much and you consider letting go. Don't.  

The dream

I've always looked out dark windows wondering if something is out there. One night when I look, a face with bright eyes appears at the window. At first glance I think it's merely a small animal passing through the yard, but then I see the blond hair that I know so very well.

 I cant breathe, let alone move.

 It's Her.

I feel as if there's a compressor lodged inside my chest as I desperately reach for a way to open the window. My effort to scream falls flat on idle walls as my hands still search for a way out.

Anyway out.

A chip or crack that will allow me to break free of this cell to which I am confined. I'm locked within these four lonely walls with a careless window staring out at the one thing in the world that would make everything okay again. Tears attempt to burn my transparent eyes but I chase them away, eluding the inevitable breakdown of my porcelain strength that's bound to follow.

Then I wake up...and for a split second I still cannot breathe.

Il'arte D'arrangiarsi

I'd ask for an encore
but I'm still waiting for the set list
The mic stands open and untouched
with words left unsaid.
They dance to a familiar tune,
yet the drums miss every beat.


-------------------------------------

Like reading only the cover of a book,
I haven't fully got a grasp,
But your first line was a killer
And now I'm hooked without a reason.


-------------------------------------

The lonely star sits within the everlasting blackness of
Night, waiting to be wished upon....someone to take a chance
With hope that one wish will ensure her brightness forever.


-------------------------------------

There's no point to try and find evidence
For a pretty lie,
A smile
Tainted by a dark veil of illusion,
haunted by the falseness of the truth
which remains buried deep within.
Questions
Holding more power than the answers.
The eyes of the idealist dreamer
dance without concern.

------------------------------------

Burn like Pompei

On the elusive stage of my own design
I stand beautifully empty.
Your stacks of words burn like Pompei.
as my stance remains unfailing
though inside I burn with passion.
A facade of golden brick and mortar,
I called your name and it felt like war.
Happy endings are dependent on the
poet’s final verse.
A manuscript of love and a limerick of lust.
We are closer to the truth than the kettle to the stove
yet drink from the cup of destruction.
Lethargic with our words and
the moment I noticed,
I didn’t want to know.
Discovering that the light at the end of the tunnel
May only be a mirrored reflection of our searchlight.