Day 304

Still Beautiful

A dahlia with a missing petal
remains delightfully full.
A blue sky with a cloud overhead
remains magnificent.
A meal without dessert
remains deliciously sating.

Day 303

The End

The looming dark overhead
will fall
and the daylight
will die
Your darkest nightmares
will wake
and you will sleep no more
Your fears will be fed
and your reason starved
until all that remains is your
throbbing heart
pried wide eyes
and claw marks on the wall.

Day 302

Where Were You?

She longed for him to come to her side
to help her through life's toughest journeys
to protect her during times of troubles.

She knew he was incapable of these things
for he had never experienced them himself
for he was barely able to survive on his own.

Yet she couldn't help but feel angry and betrayed.
She couldn't help but feel abandoned and disappointed.
Her expectations repeeatadly unmet.

Day 301

Do not look at the shadow
in the corner of your eye.
For it is shyer than you think
and will disappear from view.
It survives only on your fear.

Day 300

Here we are at another milestone! 300!! I can not believe I've been able to keep this up. I have found inspiration in many places, some expected, some not so much. This is a sort of ode to those inspirations, wherever they were found.


How The Words Come

A passing phrase
A subtle change in weather
A speeding car
A shocking news story
A friend's struggle
A friend's joy
A stranger's name
A lover's kiss
A lover's goodbye
A hateful comment
A warm embrace
A soldier's sacrifice
A mother's love
A poet's promise.

Day 299

What Side of the Revolution Will You Be On?

When the fighting starts
will your principles uphold?
Do you even have any?
What about your passions?
Ethics?
A moral compass that you follow
along the roads of right and wrong?
Will your fear take hold
and paralyze you?
Or will your fear empower you?
What is your fear, anyway?
What would be your
Hell on Earth?
Your paradise?
Will your hatred be set free
upon your perceived enemies?
Who are your enemies, anyway?
Or will your hatred be replaced with
love and understanding?
For you are both in the same battle,
undergoing the same traumas,
fighting for your beliefs.
Are they truly your beliefs?
Or are they the beliefs that
have been imposed upon you,
emblazoned into your psyche,
etched in your soul
by external forces?
What are your true beliefs?
Do you even know?
What is it that keeps you
awake at night
when all the world is still?

When the battle begins,
will you allow
the anarchists
with their violent ways
to take control?
The very control they
are fighting against.
Will you allow
the artists
and their free-spirited,
naive notions of
love and peace and acceptance
to take control?
As if they would even
want to control anything.
Will you allow
the rule makers
with their self-aggrandizing,
egotistical ways
to take control?
Haven't they had
control long enough?

Will you at least
attempt to understand
why the other side fights?
Or will you be so blinded
by your own obsessions
that you only see them
as the enemy and nothing more?
Will you speak
the truth
no matter how
well or ill received it may be?
Or will you speak lies,
spread fear and hate
to win favor and power
over those around you?

What are the choices you will make?

Day 297

The Photograph

The photo you took
has revealed me.
It pried deep beneath
the layers of makeup
the volumes of hair product
the smoke and mirrors of clothes
and the face of false confidences
to reveal the
old, ugly, fat
insecure person
that has been
forced into hiding.

Day 296

Lost In Translation

Words come out
a little too terse.
Thoughts
abbreviated
by the pen.
Full, fluid, flourished
opinions and feelings
become most unimportant
in the ink.
Verbalizing the
chaos, creation and cacophony
in the soul
diminishes
its very existence.
Ideas...
desires...
hide behind...
a wall of words
that must be demolished
brick... by
unbearable...
brick.

Day 295

At Peace in the Dark

The cool shadows
calm the restless spirit.
The silence
frees the ringing ears.
They create their own music.
The darkness
relaxes the distracted mind.
It creates its own thoughts.

Day 294

A Good Night's Sleep

Laundromat.
One AM.
No one but me.
And the homeless man asleep under the table.
I load a month's worth of fashions
into the washers.

Laundromat.
Three AM.
No one but me.
And the homeless man asleep under the table.
I remove my toasty clean clothes
from the dryers
and return home to
hang them in my closet
fold them into my drawers
put on fresh pajamas
and sleep in my cozy bed.

Laundromat.
Four AM.
No one but the homeless man asleep under the table.

Day 293

Night Trip

highway
one am
no one but me
reflective lines
glow ahead
the visual tick of
miles traveled
there is no horizon
only the point
at which the
lines disappear
into the abyss
until the headlights
draw them from
the depths of
their obscurity
lines flick by
as they shoot
at me from
complete darknessa life sized game
of asteroids
I am the alien invader.

Day 292

Wait it Out (or Trust)

Lava creeps down the mountainside.
It inches along, bubbling, brewing, melting
flora, fauna, stone and steal beneath.
All become one under the
destructive warmth of its blanket.

The people at the foot of the mountain
know their fate is coming,
but yet they stand defiant,
certain it will not destroy them.
They know that it will stop
when it is meant to stop.

Day 291

Beautfiul black and white patterns
obscured by the black stripes of a steel cage.
Fresh air and fresh stalks
replaced by circulated wind and imported bamboo.
A simple life of leisure
halted by the pressured eyes of zoologists.
Ever sad eyes
glance up
through unending
black holes
longing for peace.

Day 290

Silence

The shadows through my window
danced as the gnarled branches
that remained bare long after
fall's departure swayed
in the breeze.
The branches tapped my window
in a rhythmic melody
with the urgency of
a trapped soul.
But tonight,
The shadows are still.
The branches are silent.
The air is thick.
This would be the last night
the spirits would visit.

Day 289

Come To Me

From far away
I can feel you.
You breathe,
And the wind blows.
My air draws thins
As you inhale.

If you reach out,
I will stretch out to you.
I will pull you
In to me
And breathe in
As you exhale.

Day 288

Trust me when I say that there is actual meaning to this. It is not literal. It is not figurative. It is not symbolic. Don't try to figure it out, though. It only makes sense in my head. And maybe one other person will get it. You know who you are. :)


Candy cane popsicles fly by
a rainbow of blue and orange
sugar melted and reformed
into shapes and sizes
unrecognizable
while mountains of tar and
jellybean sandals
follow behind
with a wishing well
filled with the
hopes and dreams
of a long forgotten
conscious.

Day 287

The Temple

There is a temple at which
many have preyed.
It is a grand old building
filled with his sotry.
The stones of its foundations
were laid with love.
The vines on its walls
caress its corners.
Beyond its doors
awaits sweet release,
For many have sinned
to gain entry.

It is a place where
life begins
And where
life can end.
It is kept hidden, yet
all are welcome.

The believer will enter
with humility.
The skeptic,
with bravado.
Neither will
appreciate
its beauty.

Day 286

Backstory...
They replaced three dead bulbs in the light fixture over my head at work. I did not need these lights replaced. I did not ask for them to be replaced. There are 3 other light fixtures in my area, all within 10 feet. Directly overhead, however, it was dark. I loved it. It made for a cozy little spot in a fluorescent world. 2 full work days later, and the sun-bright rods of death are still there. I have had a headache for 2 days. I have requested for them to be removed. I truly hope that is the case.

Light of Pain

Dear fluorescent light,

The plants may love you,
But I do not.
You think you fill my life with light,
But you blind me.
Your neon blanket of glare
Constricts my head.
You are just doing you but,
But you are fired.

Sincerely,
Everyone whe ever worked in an office.



(update - the lights have been removed!all is right with the world. at least in my little 8x8 desk area of the world.)

Day 285

Ode to The Boob Tube

The TV calls to me
beckons to share with me
it's stories
it's lies
it's truths.

Day 284

What Really Happened

I told you to shut up
and to get your things and leave.
You told me you were sorry
and that you'd never hurt me.
I told you I didn't believe you
and that it was the last straw.
You told me it was a mistake
and it would never happen again.
I told you to forget it
and to get out of my house.
You left.
I cried.

What really happened.

I asked you what happened.
You lied.
I said OK.
You stayed.
I cried.

Day 283

Inspiration

In the blink of an eye
or the flip of a switch.
On the road less traveled
or the crowded subway.
In a NYC minute
or a long, lazy stroll.
It can hit like lightning
or creep in like the tide.
When it arrives,
it must be let in.

Day 282

Memories hit the soul
like a Yankees baseball bat.
A ball of emotions explodes
like a super nova.
A galaxy of insecurities crashes down
like rusted scaffolding on a skyscraper.
Survival walls crumble
like stale chocolate cookeis.
Anger heats ups
like a volcanic fissure.
Words of hate bubble up
like a rumbling belly.
Acid eats up your insides
like Joey Chestnut at Coney Island.
A rollercoaster ride
takes you right back
to the moment it all began.

Day 281

Unrequited

She entered the diner
with an ache in her heart.
Her love had not been
requited.
For years, she held out
hope that he would see
her feelings were
genuine.
He never saw her as real,
or what she had to offer.
He was always looking just
beyond.
His life had taken him
down many roads of pain.
Many times, he had been
betrayed.
She knew of his sorrow.
It's what she loved most.
She knew she would be his
salvation.
She saw them together,
deep in her soul in visions
so clear, they were not merely
imagination.
They were together in a bar,
huddled together in a dark corner,
lit only by flickering
candlelight.
They were on a long drive
to a vineyard where they'd
been a dozen times
before.
But she would not know
how it feels to be with him
through life's moments of
joy.
She would not know
what it would be like
to walk holding
hands.
She would only know
the sadness deep inside
her dark, broken
heart.

Day 280

Baggage

There is room 

in my closet

for a suitcase

filled with memories

of a jaded past

from a well explored life.

Day 279

I've been pushed aside forever;
Ignored for just as long.
I've not been taught to love you.
I'm forever doing it wrong.

I beckon to my master,
"Come teach me what you can",
But master keeps on walking.
His love, he'll never show.

I wait for it to find me,
To reach and grab my hand,
But it just goes on running
Laughing, "Catch me if you can!"

I've been sitting here forever;
Alone for just as long.
I've not been given true love.
Tell me where did I go wrong?

Day 278

Meow

A cozied up cat
in a curled up corner,
sleeping the day away,
with a catnip mouse
and a dish of tuna,
there's no better way to lay.

Day 277

This was a challenge from a friend.  It's kind of a work in progress. I think I can do something else with the conecpt, but this is a start.


Cup Of Tea

Try the drinks before you.
You'll like one, you'll see.

Try the left.
Try the right.
But drink them down,
And drink them fast,
Before they fade out of sight.

Try the drinks before you.
One just might be your
perfect
cup of tea.

Day 276

Sinking down
down to the ground
settling in
down to the ground
Sinking down.

Swirling around
round and round
up and down
round and round
Swirling around.

Floating away
up, up and away
flying high
up, up and away
Floating away.

Day 275

My pen writes
the words in my head
from the feelings in my heart.

Day 274

Summer's
warm, comforting
caress
releases my hands
to receive
fall's
cold, sharp
embrace.

Day 273

Here's the rest of yesterday's poem.

The Moon and The Cemetery

The village was filled with ancient buildings.
Buildings that existed before the war.
Buildings that were rebuilt as exact replicas.
The fall weather was spectacular.
The sky was clear.
The wind nonexistent.
The cemetary was even more ancient
than the surrounding buildings.
Plots with dates from over a thousand years ago.
Plots that were overgrown and barely recognizable.

The cryptic engravings over deteriorating mausoleums 

create fear and wonder in passers by.

The watch tower, slowly losing its foundation,

leans towards the moon as it

illuminates the stone markers of 

lives long since forgotten.