day 218: here comes the rain, do do-do-do, here comes the rain, and i say...

darkness black

stretches out
white flecks and streaks
mar the midnight
soft fluff covers it
rising higher and taller
but erupting with lightning
bring on

the storm.

day 217: afraid of the words / writers block.

if i die unpublished
make money off of me
use my words to fill
the shelves, between the bindings,
make them sell.

if i grow old and go insane
don't allow me to burn my words
because, not that i'm vain,
but i'm smart enough to see
they're important because
others can feel them--
it's not just me.

if i stop writing
don't yell at me
remind me that words
are unforgiving
but you'll forgive me
if i just pick up the freaking pen.

day 216: you're taught to raise your hand before you speak. turns out that's just a waste of time.

S T R E T C H
at the seams

B I N D I N G S
pages leave

D i s a p p e a r
like vapor

second
ALREADY GONE


Minute
not far behind it


T O D A Y
isn't a promise


it's a question
how will you make 
the world a better place


and what will you do
when it knocks you on your face?


question
you've already answered

[and you didn't even have to raise your hand]

day two hundred fifteen: the age of "social networking"

pollution
we're all poisoned
drowning in media
a raunchy bile

pollutant
we vote, but nothing changes
fooled into believing
silly little lies

polluter
we're all filling ourselves
landfills of waste
with vile and pointless things

pollution
deposit your load
i'll stare blankly at the sky
because i allowed you
to ruin me

day two hundred fourteen:

to have someone 

to rest beside

maybe share a pillow

or a blanket

with someone like you.

nothing perverse

nothing sexual

just to feel safe

while you listened

for the signs

that the world was ending

so i could sleep for a while

without having nightmares

of dying

day two hundred thirteen: the shortcut.

tonight i am ready
ready to live
ready to die
ready to write things
with ink from the sky
thunder shakes my house
winds tear the land
i'm so far gone
don't want for me to catch up
don't wait for me to find you
just keep putting one foot
in front of
the other
i'm going
to take
a shortcut

day two hundred twelve: the garden snake.

vice
grips tangle
heart mine
to mangle
choke don't die
live
let lie
cold moist
hatred
freezing to bone
guarded walls
unknown
slither through
the cracks
never repaired
before
slither through
to destroy
my sacred halls

day two hundred eleven: disappear.

i want to slip-n-slide

off the side

of our floating round globe

and fall into 

some wonder world

known only as the great unknown. 

day two hundred ten: don't fear the violent lullaby

‎today I am married to the sky, 
and with every thunder strike
it lights up a special song for me
known as a lullaby

day two hundred nine: "X"

you’re just an “x” on my list

and i’m on your mind

but don’t worry dear

replacements aren’t hard to find

your “love” 

dozen for a dime

but the lesson learned here

is that i shouldn’t waste such precious time.