Sorry

Sorry

It wasn't much of an apology

head bobbing up and down

                        mouth dry

 but you enjoy it

you let me know

It doesn't begin to digitize

breaking free

                       words said for my own benifit

I might be buried in the earth

swimming in dirt

but instead I keep going

not worried

dancing an ancient dance

wondering if you can hear

basic words

and old eyes

I'm not much (a poem)

I'm not much

I'm not much

just lazy

just kind

I'm not much

just a smile

just a bow

I'm not much

just a broken bow

just a subtle nod

I'm not much

just a dancing little fawn

just a limping hollow shell

I'm not much

just a tiny watching cloud above

just a scuttling crab, crawling around

I'm not much

just a sexy woman, stripping my clothes

just a girl alone, laughing at games

I'm not much

just dead

just alive

Dinner (a poem of starts)

Dinner

(a poem of starts)

I'm cold

siitin too close to the air conditioner, iced coffee in hand

it's Summer in Texas

And I got that bee-bopin smile spirit

it must be because my back hurts too much

this is NOT

the kind

of story I write

but today is a day and fear is a chain-smoker

destined to die by his own hand

Eyes sqwinting

back hunched over

listen to that crowd ROAR!

You've got desperate hippies, lonely gays, and girls who wish that the hippy sitting across from her really WAS an intelectual

and not just playing thrift-store dress up

You've got the girl behind the counter, a permentent smile on her face

her eyes tired, dead

You've got all of them

pitch a hitter

and pretend that crowds for you

that thay are not just for the game and the smiles and the 6$ hotdogs drowning in relish and mustard

huddled over

cheeks stuffed with an Odwalla bar

fingers mashing along

You were destined to be an old-maid Meg

Till Ms Who changed the fates minds.

Learning (a poem)

Learning

My fingers smell like smoke

Fingers entertwined

Ears kissed.  Laughing.

I wonder what I'll be like when I can see.

my poems suck latelly

Rancid

Rancid

I am typing in dvorak right now.   Slow.  Slow.

My hair is thin.  My scalp is not healing.  

Itch

I visited old friends

"Good morning heartache"

They were ugly, manipulative, selfish, cruel even.

I wasn't happy in the end.

Let's laugh in the end of this all.  I'll smile and your eyes will light up.  Let's hold hands.  Let's run and dance.

I miss the lies.

That's a lie.

I can't be there friends now that i can see them for who they have become.  For what they have been made to.

Kiss my ear and I'll laugh.  Make love to me and I'll cry.

This is where words are limited.  They make me sound cruel.

I'll laugh.  My face will light up.  And I'll have nothing but joy.  And it'll explode from me, bubbling up from my soul.

I'll cry.  Pure happiness.  So scared I'll never be this pure or beautiful again.