Tag Archives: poetry

The More We Learn the Less We Care

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

It never ends.
We keep on going while the clock is clicking.
We keep on moving while it ticks and tocks all day.
It never stops and asks us if we need to rest.

A little smile to the left; a little cry to the right.
Anxiety is behind me, and true love hopefully in front.
But he doesn’t necessarily think it includes him.
But if it does he hopes that it includes a wrist guard.

This time I am going to be kind to time.
For the more we learn the less we care.
The more we care the more we can learn.
As time marches on to more beginnings and endings.

It returns to the earth and ends up crying out.
When time ends and reclaims its former glory.
A semblance of control diminishes,
When we realize it is out of our hands.

At least it helps when you are the only one with headphones on.
Blocking out the noise that fills the air.
Marching forward and not looking back.
Learning as much as I can; trying to care a bit more.

But he tries a little too hard sometimes.
With a reach to the sky; a certain sparkle that’s left his eye.
A sore heart ready for another.
He breathes a bit harder these days.

But I am here with my jacket in my hands.
Ready to jump a little further today.
Maybe this time I will make it into the pool.
But if I don’t at least it was a thrill until the end.

And there he is too afraid to even jump.
Too afraid to learn that going up is the same as going down.
I hope the example is enough to hobble him along.
A little push into the new canon he could bring to his life.

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

We rise and we fall.
We dig a little deeper; we reach a little higher.
A snails speed passing us by.
A bullet train that ends up piercing our hearts.
A goodbye bleeding into hello.
As this clock ticks real slow.

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Turbulence and Plane Rides

Hello. How are you?
I am wondering if it is okay to enter into this interaction?
To be honest and blunt.
To bring out a little bit of the bitter instead of covering it up with the nice?

You walk into a room and glance my way.
Never smiling always in disarray.
No, matter my words only half listening to what I have to say.
I thought we could be over this petty little game?

Snapping words when simple questions are asked.
Glares that come whenever I seem to laugh.
I am not sure you want to play this game,
But here you are deciding to do so for both of us.

Turbulence and plane rides.
Train tracks sputtering along.
Tight turns at high speeds.
Breakneck acceleration on country roads.

Slowing down to scowl.
Merging when to many cars are coming.
Try to be happy even if it isn’t your day.
Jut drive and do your best to stay in a place to pray.

Of course I am not perfect.
I let it get under my skin more than I should.
A bit passive aggressive to a fault.
But don’t worry…I’m working on it.

Hello. How are you?
Is it too much to ask that you understand some facial self control.
Reading you like a book.
But you know…I could be wrong.

Lock and Key

Photo 1

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

Sometimes I wonder things I shouldn’t.
But I guess that makes me human.
A man.
Flawed, but one day saved.

Sometimes I miss things that would love to find me.
A leech that breaches the edges of my skin.
Sometimes it seems right to give in.
When life feels dull and doing right seems wrong.

Under lock and key is a door to another world.
One where everything I know is flipped.
Where right is left and left is right.
But somehow up is still up and down, down.

The door easily found and the key not hard to find.
To enter is to see differently.
But not necessarily morally.
Sometimes it feels better to be in the dark.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the place where I am meant to be.
Taking refuge in a world that is against what I believe.
Easy, wide, and short.
Quick rewards, and quick thrills.

One that let’s me do all the things my flesh wants to do.
Early expressions with neatly wrapped packages.
Sitting under the lock and decorated with the key.
Oh, God… What is wrong with me?

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

But this feeling usually goes away.
How long it lasts is different day to day.
Sometimes it hurts to stay in the fray.
Especially when you all feel so far away.

Photo 2

Artwork By: Keighty Rae

It Would Nice to Have Window

Walls surround and call my name.
Not long before I fall asleep.
Not walls made of wood and plaster.
But walls made of black and other dark colors.

A room built.
A room that isn’t always the same.
Sometimes I am given a chair.
Sometimes there is nothing there.

My eyes go up.
My eyes go down.
It is hard to look left.
It is hard to look right.

I open my eyes some nights during sleep.
I look around inside of the dream.
This dream is sometimes hopeful and lovely.
But mostly it is a nightmare brought on by my lack of self esteem.

I am very aware of what I can do.
What I can’t do.
When I am stylized.
When I am talking out of my… you know.

It would be nice to have a window.
So that the light in the room can be shown in the night.
I am on a hill looking down and up.
Hoping in hope, to show people that I can offer a rope.

But the nightmare continues on.
Building more walls.
And resisting any calls.
But the hope is still there,  desiring to wake up and not despair.

This world is not in my control.
I cannot take down these walls.
Only Love has the power to shake up this room.
So I may better share the hope that I know to be true.

I am given a match.
I light it up, and drop it down.
The walls burn to the ground in the form of a tune.
I take up Your hope, and go out to build a better room.

The Truth Still Remains…

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating.
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.

Today is a good day.
Nothing is wrong.
Nothing has gone astray.
But the truth still remains… I miss you.

I see a family visiting family.
I see a friend moving away.
I found out I will miss them when I get back on a Sunday.
Even if that will be a glorious day.

A sorrow has gripped my throat.
A friend has gone back home.
Happiness is not enough,
For this feeling to go away.

There is this simple truth in the air.
It’s a good one I swear.
It hurts to be this far.
It hurts because we are close.

I miss you more than a shepard losing his flock.
I miss you because you left.
I miss you because you are not here.
I miss you because right now I wish to be there.

I miss you.
And I think that means I have love in my heart.
A love for my family and my friends.
Friends that I consider my family.

I miss you.
But more importantly know that I love you,
And I am here for you.
Even if I am miles and miles away.

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.

Where Did it Come From?

It enters into the storm and brings out what you never thought.
Arguing within yourself, knowing it can encapsulate more than feelings.
A single pull of the hand.
Grasping onto a thought that was never there, but here it is.

Reflecting on past choices.
Hearing words spoken that let you move on faster.
A gift given from thoughts that never were thought.
Singing at the top of my lungs a tune that was never written.

Help me sing the songs that are to come.
Let my head connect to my heart, and create.
More of a style than a metaphor.
A style that integrates a little of me and hopefully some of you.

Look at the landscape of the stars.
The ones that shine less bright than the others.
The ones that might be brighter if we all got a little closer.
Or maybe they really are dimmer, and all they need is a song to make them shine brighter.

Let’s take that thought and turn it into something worth while.
Like a cup of tea on a rainy day,
Or holding someone close when another had something bad to say.
Let’s take a walk and learn by the river, like what it means when we are together.

Staying in touch is harder than you think.
But please, let’s try even if we think we are weak.
For this thought that I did not think, will be there more than a week.
Take a deep breath and let me know, how far you are willing to go.

I’ll lend my voice if you lend me a tune.
I’ll lend you my hand to make it through.
Singing at the top of my lungs a tune that was never written.
Remembering a thought that I never had.

It is time to go and with that a goodbye.
A single eye that sees past the fly.
The fly on the wall that turns into a guy.
That has too many thoughts and songs, but no matter what he has to try.

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Put on Your Dancing Shoes

Put on the charm.
Carry out the action.
Dance to the symmetry.
But do it quickly because you never know how long you have left.

Right outside is beauty.
Formed together by grace and elegance.
A 1950’s charmer.
A dance that accompanies both melancholy and hope.

Put on the swing.
Dance a little slower than you might otherwise.
Pursue a bit faster than what is comfortable.
But do it genuinely, or it will all be for naught.

Pulling up with windows down.
Cruising down with the wind blowing inside.
Clearing your head for what is to come.
No,  after thoughts to crush the high you are now on.

Put on the charm.
Form a thought about another.
Dance to the entropy that comes after the symmetry.
But do it quickly…

Put on your dancing shoes.
This club isn’t for everyone.
Find out if you got what it takes.
And if you do, treasure, love, and be you no matter what others tell you.

Pursue the lover.
Dance like no other.
Please be a true charmer.
Be filled with symmetry and of course a little entropy.