Category Archives: Poetry

You Are Big. I Am Small.

lion

You have exhausted me
I am a shell of a man
Enduring your endless
Boasts and hyperbole

You are not unique
I’ve suffered many
Like you before
Chest bowing crowing

I wonder what
Tragic event unfolded
To make you like this
What great legend speaks

I don’t understand
The need the want
Of a hole that
You must endlessly fill

You do have my pity
As I groan under my breath
Pausing to let you tell
Another moronic story

Sympathetic, yes
After all we are friends
And I am a man of
Honor and patience

But there are times
When I cannot help
But feel that you are as small
As you make yourself big

That comforts me
Gives me the strength
To fight at your side
Against the maws of the beast

Seeing you as less than
Makes you tolerable
But I cannot help but wonder
If it makes me egotistical instead.

Photo Credit: Tambako the Jaguar via Compfight cc

Advertisements

Soon.

soon

The check is in the mail.
You’re next in line.
The other light just turned red.
Your order is shipping today.
The curtain is opening.
Your call is important to us.

Thank you for holding.

Your grades will be posted tomorrow.
The timer is ticking down.
Storm clouds are forming.
The bus is one stop away.
The pizza should be getting here.
Your file is downloading.

Buffering.

The grass is growing.
The paint is drying.
The cake is baking.
The dryer is buzzing.
The commercial is shouting.
A secret is waiting.

To be whispered.

The nurse will call your name.
You’re the next patient.
The MRI will be reviewed next week.
We should have your test results in two days.
We will call you if it is serious.
You shouldn’t have to worry.

White knuckles.

I’m going to have to get back to you.
Sign the papers and you’ll have it.
We’re just waiting for clearance.
The judge is in his chambers.
The jury is debating.
And then we will know.

Soon.

Photo Credit: yyellowbird via Compfight cc

WHY U NO?

crybaby

I’ve been trying to contact you
Although I have never said a word
I’ve been typing my thoughts to you
And sending them like prayers out
Into the ether. Never seen, but merely whispers

You have not responded
I must assume you are getting my messages
What do you think when you look down to read them?
Do you think me a fool, an asshole, or misguided?

Your apathy angers me
Your unwillingness to let me in frustrates me
Your disregard for my feelings disturbs me
Why are you so willing to ignore me?

Ignore my thoughts, my feelings, my plans, my needs, my love?
How can you go about your day without a concern.
Without a glance, without a nod, or a we’ll talk soon.
Your lack of response has driven me mad.
I have diminished myself by lurking, stalking.

I see you on your Facebook
Liking a person’s status
Making cute little comments
Posting, posting, posting.

What have you been doing the last two days?
The days that you have been ignoring me?
Let’s look at that timeline and see.
Oh.

You lost your phone in the toilet.

My bad.

Photo Credit: ★ spunkinator via Compfight cc

Lightning Rides and Other Highs: My Poetry Collection

Screen Shot 2014-06-29 at 12.42.11 PM

I have a small collection of my early poetry that has been available online for almost two years, but I have never bothered to promote it.

Not sure why. Perhaps I wasn’t feeling confident or the fact that it’s only an ebook, or that the platform that sells it was new at the time and I didn’t know if they would make it.

Well, it’s time to let my neglected child see the light of day. So here it is.

It’s only $1.50 and features some of the poems on this site and other early works. As long as you have an e-reader that can handle an ePub file, you’ll be good to go.

Click here to grab a “copy.”

Happy Sunday.

Bang.

3777084698_a7ef4bf328_b

Bang.

A hammer to a nail.
A fist to a door.
The finger to a trigger.

Bang.

The guy overheard at the bar.
Sharing his last conquest.
Banged her, he says.

Bravado, ego, the art of bragging.
I’ve little time for this nonsense.
I’m in the corner booth.
A little off. A bit fuzzy.
Busy analyzing what’s wrong with the world
And the people in it.

A BIG BANG.

PLEASE.

One to bookend the first.
The slam of a fucking huge meteor
Somewhere in the South Pacific
Following by a cleansing wash of sea water
Across it all creation
Drowning us and freeing nature of our tyranny.

BANG.

Save me from having to hear another word
From the douchebag
Holding court
Five yards away.

Photo Credit: fpsurgeon via Compfight cc

Amnesia

room

 

There’s an aspect to amnesia
That I find quite attractive
A forced blank slate
The loss of so many regrets
Haunting mistakes
Poorly chosen words
Many people won’t forgive you
Because they know that you know
What happened that day
They want their justice
But if you don’t know
If you just simply don’t have
The recollection

It wasn’t you.

So there is no one to blame
They must forgive you
That you no longer exists
An alluring opportunity
The bitch of it, the tradeoff
Would be kissing goodbye
All of the things that went right
Pretty little picture postcards
Torn to shreds

The new replacing the You that you knew.

To be truly reborn at an older age
To experience everything for the first time
A loss of irony and cynicism
That’s attractive to me
Because I judge far too often
I’ve been carrying these bags for years
I’m exhausted and
I have no idea
How to shake the memories
That follow me.
Photo Credit: Jon Chevier™ via Compfight cc

Family History

It’s my understanding that
I have one hell of a family history
That’s not too difficult to believe
Probably true for most.

From all over Europe
Viking North
Mediterranian South
And many stops in between.

There’s been much love
Conducted across the water
and that love trickled down
from Duke to Lord to whatnot.

There’s a Von in there somewhere
And someone who worked
For the Hapsburgs
And some other sketchy types as well.

I once asked
If we’re descended from such greats
WHERE THE HELL IS THE MONEY?
Have you heard of the Great Depression?

My father loved to regale
Such histories and myths
Your grand so-and-so knew Jesus!
Now that’s hyperbole.

The Greek line has been
The most frustrating
From Sparta, I was told
Fierce. Warrior. Blood.

Oh, how I loved that
A cult of manly men
Brutal with sword and spear
I could almost feel the DNA.

That little chestnut
Kept me going for years.
No matter the beast
I could slay it. Spartan.

Then I learned
It wasn’t Sparta but
Crete called home.
Asterion, my brother.

Not nearly as much
Fun a boast
But there’s that labyrinth
And the bullhead.

As are most things
Less impressive and shiny when
Scrubbed down by truth
But useful nevertheless.

If you are ever lost
Keep making right turns
Eventually you’ll find
The way out of the maze.

I learned that in Crete.