"Maybe the morning air will make me feel better/Oh, I hope better than I feel right now"

New poem I wrote on my phone on a bus last week. 

"ourselves"

book of my life

there have been valuable contributors

fuck the poetry

there are those i could have done without

ah but you don't mean that

i mean  every word i say

you should not believe a word i say

base ideas come from instincts

we should not struggle to be higher, we should obey

oh, but this is foolish, this is nuisance

i clutter, or i ember

i brave or i fade

i encumber

aloof, freedom from oblivion

a loss for words, not for thoughts

we look forward

we crowd in our courage and discrepancies and conundrums

we soothe to be happy

fraught  dissipates

ourselves, just ourselves

"drove yourself here so you might as well stay" "Colors don't change when your life is strange"/Go Hawks

 This is an odd one.I very much feel like I had to wrestle this poem into being, but at the same time it felt very natural, like it came into existence almost fully formed. I just had to prune it a bit, adjust the grammar, show it how to wear its makeup.. The stories told here are almost 100% true.. that isn't something that happens very often. Enjoy. Go Hawks.

"winter (football, fallout)"

a crowd gathered outside a bar

to watch a football game

this was beauty

there was love and hope

this was my city at its finest

a week earlier, game before

a girl, we broke, she drove me home

through the audacity of post-game traffic

we were trapped, so we talked

honesty at last

i told her “life is compromise”

she said “maybe that’s why we can’t work”

i shrugged, offered to get out

she concurred, i obliged

grabbed my bag, went into the street, focused and unsmiling

these incidents were connected

by something i’m normally indifferent to

football season dies as winter limps into its climax

i’m dreading fallout

but praying for celebration

"hey, do you know what this is doing to me?"

Hey, look! A new poem!

“nonsense”

woman, you’re defiant, and often at war

you play your cards like checkmates, or revere

foreign and national examples of excess

bourgeois things and royalty substitutes

hollywood princesses land tits down

but get back up to primp and preen

as your devotion grows larger

frail spectrals

fame’s ghosts, you see yourself onscreen

focused on nothing but the shot

no hair or makeup

can hide the fact that you’ll only be beautiful for so long

are your priorities in sight?

listen, lady: there is nonsense and little else

alive in this world

it will shake you awake

and force you to stare down the dawn

or fierce:

beautiful, messed up and magnificent

something renewed

a sacrifice from the streets

a calf brought back from the altar

and returned into the light

i could define

all the things you are

dear darling, oh inspiration

i could take forever to chronicle your peaks

but then i wouldn’t get to watch you

and i’d miss something

necessary for me to live

"you've got a power source/it's like a solar system"

New poem, kind of a mess, kind of raw. I've been trying to write other types of stuff, but I'm fond of this.

“balance # 2”

keep me honest, but

don’t keep me too honest

my eating habits may

distract you for a while

but tonight will be fine, will be fine

i’m timid and afraid that

you’re just acting

i watch every word i say

which is really

never my normal course of business

if  i’m too careful

you’ll grow irritable and bored

but if i let loose you’ll be scared into silence

so i blance, oh i balance

everything always comes back to fucking blance

"heaven is a place with you"

 Not really going to say anything about this, other than I've been messing around with style. I've gotten pretty bored with most of my traditional formats. I like this quite a bit, even if it might be a bit generic. I'm not great at writing stuff like this, but I'm getting better.

“# 7 “

her body reacts the way a woman’s body should

she gasps and arches and continues her ascent

i kiss her mouth and grasp

ah, but i’m just as content

when she’s lying still in my arms

she gets up to find a cigarette

i hold back to catch my breath

she pulls on her shirt, i mutter a complaint

i watch her when she’s walking away

as closely as i do when she’s arriving

we sit in silence

or hatch insane plans

she turns her face towards me

everything that matters is there

nothing is more important, nothing is as free

"her smile was pretty, but her body was strange/it could have been just the shadows from a passing train"

 Old poem from '09. I think it was in my chapbook Crack Cocaine Kisses and Other Poems, but like three people read that. Depressing as hell, but I'm fond of it.

"collapse"

you came to your collapse like it was a dance and you were fire

you looked around your empty room

as if you had just realized

that you were alone and were afraid of being alone

you came to your collapse without coffee filters, and so

you took to the vodka in the freezer, and began to toast

days you had dreamed up full of fashion and the flames of lovers

delusions go down like water, but fail even quicker when you chase them with liquor

you came to your collapse and you were fine

as long as you were absent, and the checks kept coming

the pill bottles emptied, the ashtrays filled, and you ceased being hungry

lost track of time, turned out the lights, and left the phone off the hook

you came to your collapse with no hope of a savior but against all odds, advantage, or anyone's wishes 

folks will come, the ambulance chasers who only care when you go missing

raise the shades, lock the door and pray

that whoever is there won't be desperate enough to find a way in

"i was sought"

New poem inspired by a different version of the song below.

“ in my heart (with apologies to carey mercer)”

war, war is in my heart

but your love is all i will cherish

let wounds appear elsewhere

your love is the light i will hold up

against the chattering, darkening sky

oh, but i have basked in battle

i have taken up my sword against loss and entropy

i have stood awash in blood and sorrow

and war remains in my heart

my dissatisfaction has grown too large to just ignore

i fist my hand in anticipation of your soul gripping mine

i smile at the vision of you i hold in my head

pretending i could be cleansed

i sing radio songs that remind me of you

your love is all i remember

though through the threat of war i’m still possessed

my mind doesn’t collapse in on itself, as i would hope

it doesn’t turn to dust, cold and miserable

you’re the little bit of blasphemy i could always take with me

if i’m buried on a battlefield, you’ll keep me alive, and fed forever

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UT1uExqHZM