Called by passion, we hold to one another forever breaking time zones and rules crushing delusions of mediocrity and just by holding hands we pull our fragile hearts from flimsy cases in order to reveal their splendor and show the world our true selves (between us, we share each other)   And the simple act of running my hands through her hair is enough for me   to fully understandthe way the world works I connect to the holy, to the impermissible through her touch, a...

I'm part of the revolution fools and lovers combining hearts and wishful thinking pushing past the dead results We are power united sick of hanging chads and dying Manchurian candidates We are together fighting the only world we've ever known fighting conformity fighting carelessness We must be careful don't meet me at the coffee shop it's under heavy surveillance the park is a better place The election is a sham We've decided, predecided our destinies We are shackled ...

this time a slow moving car chase 13 days long now growing shorter by the moment the racers are waiting to scream and yell, and i will tolerate the narcotic road race 8 days longer i measure time by car lengths weary and torn ready to go home i measure life by heartbeats ready to be in your chasing arms and i will chase your smiles past bags and labels and trays i will chase forever until i catch you time come slowly time come quickly please come any way you can i ...

the world a door to unkown hangs on an emotional hinge on the songs of lovers it swings forward and back a pendulum of time on the voices of mothers it opens (and closes) keeping safe, letting go we dance on the panels swing to and fro in the kisses of the sun race down the molding roads, highways, rivers, causeways and into bliss and open arms we look into futures of sleepless nights and beautiful dreams through windows of hopes desire we find ourselves through the wor...

I write about love about life, about firsts exit wounds and shouts I write about the past about football and cheese I write about the past my childhood My strangeness, my difference I write about them I think about them My personal scapegoats I blame small children who now know better for my problems, "I wasn't popular, I was teased." I say that, as if it's a free pass to sympathy and support. I hate it. I do it without thinking - create tragedy where none existed b...

These are our times two voices across miles sing songs of normality crazy stories, fond memories music of togetherness connected by towers hello and goodbye my beautiful dream my straight path, my darling my blessing, my love sweetest dreams I wish for you dreams of us together again until dreams are reality I will wish for sleep

A shovel pounds dark earth reaching, wretching through roots, grass a rhythmic hum of slamming and tearing breaks between the faulty shuddering and gasping breaths of a 5 year-old boy reposessing a 21 year-old heart We grew together lived together she, an outcast of ill-fortune I the emotional mewing jabberjaw we were comrades in legs and the number three-quarters hobbling through life together tired and worn down, a full 18 years she's turned to dust and polaroid memories no...

now we hold hands at the crosswalk to the library, we lace fingers and laugh about stupid question girls and no-name douche-bags her presence dispels the loneliness and brings light like dawn over misty mornings   then I lived in a different world, before her I wanted something we all need (I knew not that I needed it)   our hands together are a blessing, an uplifting a cure for the cold and the storm   I am alone no longer two whole years spent gloriously ...

This sudden, inexplicable change This switch from having stones to being a stoner I’m the compass bearer wearing a magnetic watch disoriented, nothing makes sense not even the time.   Your   ticking movesbackward as if to taunt me, fool me moving time backwards, regression but regressing does not change this malady represses it, maybe, changes its key from Major to minor Oh child, what have you done?   The man I admired has ...

It’s the casual careening silence that pulls us from our empty state we clutch at pictures and feelings we cannot remember and our hangover headaches are too much to cure with just ibuprofen and for all the silence, the burden of sound keeps me glued to bedsheets and pillows I can’t get up like you I can’t think, but for pain and I realize that something changed not just a ticker on some world clock in the sky not some siren that announces my bacchanal festiva...