the need to be loved

time flies when you're having fun
and thoughts fail while entertained
or at least get left alone for a while
before motion gives way to mindgames
played alone and always lost
when allowed to go on for too long
because rationality is replaced with worry
and fighting for favor in other's eyes
becomes a vice of the lowest kind.

come together

new places become familiar
in the light of old faces
and as cliché as it may be
home is where your heart is
and when your heart is home
changes in your weathered ways
don't feel like fatal alterations
so the dawn of new days numbered
may reveal new pathways tread
but an ever-constant destination.

haiku #21

i don't want to do
i want to have done before
if past was future...

overload

at first the melody makes the gears catch
and the rhythm rolls on steady and smooth
until eventually erosion takes a toll
and the cogs catch making gears grind
drowning the music in cacophonous creaking
that only imitates the original tune.

retroactive lenses

once the word is written
and used as a label
the sticker won't come unstuck
at least not without leaving
streaks and stains and stickyness
reminding you to remember
the way things were at first
instead of moving forward
to clean glass and clarity.

haiku #20

i waken anew
surrounded by fresh feelings
it's good to be home

that last mile

the engine always takes its time turning over
but before you know it you're cruising country roads
and the distance to your destination dwindles down
until you can see your parking spot just up ahead
but traffic takes its toll that last stretch of streets
and the wind in your hair turns to waiting restlessly.

scales and garages

even when your favorite cd
sits under the passenger seat
for who knows how long
you still stick it in the stereo
and listen to yourself singing
every word at the top of your lungs.

subtotal: n/a

if all you focus on is the numbers
they'll never add up to anything
and you'll be left staring blankly
at blank checks made out to no one
because when your signature's worth
outweighs the hand that holds the pen
you might want to reconsider what the receipt really reads.

television

i watch time fly
through my eyes
across the room
through the screen
and wish it would
bounce back to me.

too tired for worry

lying on my couch i look forward
to saturdays spent sleeping in
while the winds whisper of autumn
reminding me of younger days spent
practicing football after school
and imagining the feel of a first kiss

beast inside my belly

there's a beast inside my belly
and he's eating at my insides
while tearing at my thoughts.

there's a beast inside my belly
and he's asking me for food
preferring poison over truth.

there's a beast inside my belly
and he's waiting on my weaknesses
to give in to his every wish.

there's a beast inside my belly
and he's wanting me to fuel the fire
of his shallow fleeting feelings.

there's a beast inside my belly
and he's yelling through my veins
drowning out my drumming heart.

there's a beast inside my belly
and he looks like me with leprosy
if i could only let the healing in.

financial flux

by the time my hair grows out
my impatient preferences have already changed
and whenever i save money enough
for the clothes i think i'm wanting
i end up spending my savings on something else
that i'll be tired of by my next paycheck
but i'd rather waste my money on myself
even when my wants wax and wane continually
than invest in causes worthwhile
and though i don't mean that
from the bottom of my heart
the balance of my bank account begs to differ.

haiku #19

sometimes i cheat when
i'm writing syllables and
poetry and such.

haiku #18

that's a funny thought.
happiness doesn't really
rollover so much.

a posteriori (marked with morality)

like a stamp stuck on our lifestyles
we wear it as we walk and breathe
for some it fades with friction's rub
but always stays enough intact
for observant eyes to identify
the birthmark we've been branded with
proving the hand that held the stamp.

if you'll be my body guard...

it falls into subconsciousness
like quarters and dimes dropped
into pockets after purchases
jingling around in memory
but eventually settling into silence
keeping quiet for a while
until an unexpected motion
lets their song loose again.

everything becomes too much

lay yourself down to bed
find the rest you're wanting
absorb sleep until you're full
becoming drunk on peacefulness
eventually when morning comes
the strength you were regaining
has come to pass with the hours
and you find yourself needing rest
from the rest that you were wanting.

redefining progress

it's really a shame that it takes
an exercise bike to power our lives
and windmills aren't too appealing
with the way they spin but still stay
it certainly takes a lot to appreciate
that sometimes just staying afloat
is the best that circumstances can expect.

ironically unoriginal

i'm tired of typical metaphors
and still familiar phrases
being all that pass from my lips
even as i search for subtleties
and new ways to work with words
so i can say the things i mean
in a language that's unique to me
and not the tongues of many men
because i can't believe my brain would work
on familiar frequencies frequently used
with so many paths of thoughts
and circumstances so distanced

hesitation, pay attention

seems unfair how easy it is
to lose your step and forget
why you walked up stairs
and flipped the switch in the first place
knowing you only have moments
to reach into your memory
before your purpose is entirely forgot
and steps retraced with reason lost.

haiku #17

something held loosely
but never undervalued
is hard to let go.

holding onto the unforgettable

climbing through crawlspace cobwebs
and pulling possessions to be priced
you remember moments mundane
yet important in an untouched way
and as sticker-tags release nostalgia
there are some memories that mean too much
to go without a written reminder
or at least a photograph to fill the gap.

note:

missed a few days because of family vacation/dropping off the sister at college

haiku #16

if i could watch me
from an outside perspective,
i think i might cry.

just look away

as animals we adapt to alterations
acquiring apathy for pain that persists
creating calluses instead of cures
forgetting feeling with expressions forged
rather than regret wrong turns taken
we forget the facts and with tails tucked run.

rotten roots

my mind grows wild and twisted
tangled like a topiary needing trimmed
but it's behind my back and i'm blind
besides, even if i had an angle and eyes
my bare and blistered fingers would fail
and i haven't a cent to my tainted name
much less a tool that could ever tame
the thorns that i thought were there for me
providing protection and security
i didn't know they would draw my blood
if i twisted and tried to lift myself up
and no gardener could have any gloves
thick enough to allow him to love
my rotten roots and horny thorns
i'd rather sap from soil some disease
than allow the rain and rays to please
brittle branches withering away
preferring the ease of slow decay
i need another to hold out a hand
of hope and hatred for wasted land
because my brain is washed of any thought
that i could ever become what i'm not
i'm not a sight for eyes long sore
i haven't provided anything more
than shade for beetles and bugs beneath
my tangled frame and greenbrown leaves
but i'd rather have to turn my face
to cutting shears and pruning pain
than continue counting down the days
of wasting away in my slow decay.

when kings go off to war

i know i don't want in my head in my heart in my mind in my soul in my thoughts in my feelings in my right mind i would never want. i know i don't want but i want. i want. i want more than anything for the moment. for the moment i want not in my head or my heart or my mind or my soul or my thoughts or feelings or in my right mind but i want and that's all. all i am is what i want and i want what i don't. all i am what i don't want and that is all i want right now for the moment that is all i am is what i don't want. i don't want it at all inside of me pressing down on me i don't want it even near me i don't want to want it but i want it and it's what i don't want to want what i want what i don't what at all with everything in me i don't want to want. i don't want to want this i don't want to want like this. i want to want what i want the way i want what i don't want. i want to want what i want the way i want what i don't want. i want to want what i want. i want to want what i want.

haiku #15

scars on my body.
forgotten operations.
wishing i knew pain.

shine on

somehow sometimes on certain days
the sun finds a way to shine in the rain
and it makes me think that maybe there's a way
for me and my heart to smile through pain
because the light that brightens every day
pushing through clouds to lighten the gray
resides in my heart and always remains
even when forecasts attempt to dismay.

haiku #14

the battle begins
but it's not head versus heart
it's two civil wars.

fitting room forgotten

she catches your eye with her hues and hems
hanging amidst the wreck of a rack where she rests
while you wonder why, how she found herself here
standing out against the stains and fades
so you buy her beauty before even thinking
to try her on or look in a mirror
and even though she's beautiful
when you finally get her to your home
you realize she might not be the right size
and despite the pain that parting brings
you know she will never belong
in the same closet where you hang your clothes.

the pull

somehow the silent yells
of a thousand highway miles
scream into the virgin ears
of a small city student boy
who's hesitant to be alone
but wants to burn for life
and the long lonely quiet road
whose current swells a breeze
against the rusted wind chimes
pushing him from his front porch.

tucked in

there are no words
that could dare describe
the feel of your own bed
against your aging skin.
the talk of old friends
in a dark backyard.
the melody to follow
in your first favorite song.
the taste of chocolate chips
in cookies baked at home.

the chase

legs pumping because you must
make it there where you're going
to what you want to get to
the goal you've been chasing since
the race began and you gave your all
for the feeling of winning the prize
money to spend on something different
than the goal you were chasing
from the beginning of the race.

whispering in deaf ears

i try to rewind my mind
and remember what i forgot
but i just end up feeling
like a three-year-old staring
at the silly shapes in rows
that the big people put on
the things they talk about.

you your attention

can i have your attention your full attention every little bit of your attention is all i want is that too much to ask for all of you your attention and all of you. i only want to see you happy to be happy to make you happy to make me happy is all i want is to be happy for you so i'm happy and your happy for me because i'm happy is all i want is you is to be happy. i would give everything for you for me. i would do anything to make you happy to make me happy. you can have my full attention if i can have your full you your attention your full you. as long as i'm the one who gets to have you you can have me if i have you all of you then you can have me too but only too. only too.

haiku #13

too good to be true.
it's unfortunate when that
really is the truth.

lazy

tiptoe through time
careful not to
disturb the dreamers.

afternoon

i inhale a yawn
through my body
and it spreads itself
across my skin
like a warm blanket

haiku #12

bright eyes and a book
vs. the television
hands down decision.

behind my back

listen to the dripping dropping
landing softly on the ground
listen to it faintly falling
soft erosion softer sound
listen to the ticking tocking
chasing hands on circle round
listen to it never stopping
still erosion different sound

night drive

lungs take in life. eyes open. lights. slip slowly backwards before shifting suddenly forward flowing smoothly. fast. wind whirling through windows and around. up my arms softly touching shoulders. life of the lightless night becomes my breath my breathing i hear the music but i don't hear it i hear the wind i hear the night surrounding me the wind surrounds me i feel the music i hear the wind the music lets me loose surrounded by nothing by the wind the nothing of the wind it breathes for me it breathes with me into me around me it breathes for me. the coolness is the wind is the night. broken by the rain. drops. windshield. clear night sky broken.

moderation

it's hard to define the fine line
between indulgence and satisfied.

solitude, surrounded.

i suppose it's silly of me
to sit on this library shelf
surrounded by volumes
and worry myself sick
simply because my sequel
is a single day overdue.

full, filling still.

i am a twice-dead termite
taking pleasure from pages
that they tell me were once wood
etching the ink out with my eyes
leaving lifeless leafs where once
there was wisdom to be found
now devoured by my desire
to provide for my pride.

cross it off the list

no matter how many times
i'm reminded of what i want
and how to get what it is
i will always want what i want
and that will always be
something else.

the created void

i can't understand
if it's automatic, it
can't come unattached
so how can the claim
of which one comes first
cause the chasm that
creates this chaos
we call christianity.

falling asleep

i don't want to go to bed and fall asleep it takes forever and i lay there and think about falling asleep about not falling asleep about trying to fall asleep trying to pray about falling asleep about everything that i think about when i cant fall asleep and i think about everything about myself and what i do what i dont do what i should do what i could never do what i need to do in the morning every single day tomorrow what i should have done today all the time i had all the time it takes to fall asleep all the time i wasted tomorrow and the next day thinking about everything about how i can never fall asleep about how i dont even think most of the time i waste my time so much time thinking about not falling asleep not thinking all the things i could do all the time i have to think to waste to not think to fall asleep.

watching detached

i might rather read my life
in books bound afterwards
feeling sympathy for the man
who fills my role, but not
letting his life become my
own set of steps and breaths.