insomnia

I can't sleep, so tonight you get not a poem, but my thoughts, pretty much the way they flow through my head. I'll probably stop and correct typos, and maybe pause momentarily to see where the train is headed, and if I really want to go down that road, but in general this is what it is, and it's not really filtered all that much. I'm doing pretty well I suppose, though it's been a long time since I had a date. That one has been bugging me lately. I thought I might have met someone recently, but it doesn't look like I have much of a chance there. Oh well, that's life, moving on. I'll find a girl one of these days. I know I'm being saved from much heartache, but I'm also being robbed of a lot of happy memories, and I can't help but think I'm the only one robbing me. I um, I need to take out the trash. Not sure where that came from except looking over at the trash, and that A&W Root Beer empty 12 pack that's been sitting there for a couple of days, just waiting for me to have some excuse to go to the dumpster (which they felt necessary to place in the most out-of-the-way location possible. I really don't know how the trash man even picks it up) and unload it all. Anyway, it's 3:41 AM, and I really should be asleep right now, but I've been reading Harry Potter. I'm almost done with the fourth book, and it's really quite entertaining. I imagine I'll have to buy the fifth soon. Oh yeah, that reminds me that Ashley wanted to borrow the first one. I'll have to remember to take it to work. That shouldn't be difficult, since work is coming in like 4 hours. yay. I just drew a blank, but since I'm writing like this, I figure I'll just type out that I drew a blank, and that will keep my fingers going. It's interesting how that works, 'cause inevitably my mind works faster than my hands, and by the time I finish putting my thoughts down, more have popped up, so if only I can keep on going, I'll almost never run out of things to write. Well, someone has just messaged me on Facebook, so I guess I'll wrap this up. I promise I'll be good and start writing real poems for you all again soon. I do kind of feel like I'm running out of steam there, but I need the practice, and apparently a few of you enjoy reading them, so I might as well keep it up. Good night.

another sonnet (try something new already)

I find my favorite part of every day
To be the time I take to talk with you
And though it seems my words get in the way
Intentions still at least seem to get through
And if you were to go along with me
I promise I would treat you with respect
And give you only care and honesty
And never ask you more than you'd expect
I think we could be wonderful, we two
It's been so long I'm not sure of the words
To find out if you feel the same way too
Or if you think me just a bit absurd
But if you should relent and tell me "nay"
Then "friends" is still enough for my to stay

Something short today

I've been a bit cloudy of late
I've a feeling that it won't abate
I recently met her
And now can't forget her
I'm hoping I might get a date

Orange And Purple...Colors are hard to rhyme.

I awoke with a start, and I reached for a pen
There was something I had to remember
As I focused my brain so the details remain
I guess you saw me losing my temper
My face was all screwed in a weird sort of shape
And I must have looked quite a bit batty
By the time I had stopped, and my pen was re-topped
I was shaking, my hands rat-a-tat-y.
So I read what I'd written and checked for mistakes
As you read o'er my shoulder quite deftly
I, if not for your hair, wouldn't know you were there
(Oh no, nothing rhymes with 'deftly'!)
The story I told had turned out quite mundane
And you laughed a bit after you read it
But you took it with grace, said the look on my face
Made it worth it every word that you dreaded.
So I lie here again as I drift back to sleep
Positively confused by what happened
But I finally dismiss it and give you a kiss
It's just one of those things I suppose...

Starting up daily again (my apologies for the break)

If writing songs can be like finding gold
Then maybe I should pan a little more
And this can make it easier I'm told
To write a poem a day forevermore

A single kiss can make the sun shine bright
No matter if the skies before were gray
And lately I've been thinking I just might
'Cause I could stare into her eyes all day

Disjointed quatrains, disconnected verse
It echoes what it's like inside my mind
Though always true, and rarely too perverse
A stranger place you'll likely never find

The day escapes me, sitting in my room
As time continues passing all around
But here it waits, reluctant to resume
And so we hide and daren't make a sound

Together we could be a team of two
But that requires something first from me
To take a sort of leap and hope that you
Can see in me the things in you I see

A turn to love, as poems so often can
How terribly cliche of me to write
At least the pen keeps moving in my hand
That's a lie I typed this with a keyboard

Verse one and chorus (mostly verse one)

Take a picture. They say it's worth a thousand words, and one day it may be all that you have left. Write a song, sing along, and make the world sound better. Take a chance on me that's all that I can ask of you right now.

Write a love poem, not to me but to yourself. You know you are the only one that counts. Read the lines, now one more time, raise your voice up louder. Join the chorus of the ones who've made up their minds.

Say oh, I will be just fine.

Haikus

The easy way out
Shift work has ruined my sleep
Days run together

A momentous day
Part Seven Part Two comes out
Are there tickets left?

Keys not meant for words
W, A, S, and D
Think fast, or be killed

I wrote a poem
It was short, like this one is
It had more meaning

Ten holes, Twenty reeds
It rocks you all the time, too
Like inward singing

Falling Behind

The salt air of the sea woke my senses, so as I approached you I couldn't help but notice the casual air you wore about you was just as put-on as the scarf around your neck. I couldn't blame you for either though, what with the cold days we've been having and all. I was determined to break through the barrier though, and so I opened with a nervous "Hey." I am such a charmer. You looked back at me with eyes that seemed to move back and forth from subdued interest to total indifference, which only added to my supreme confidence.
"It's late," you replied. My hope grew weary at such a frigid reply, but I pressed on.
"I know. What are you doing out here, anyway?" I asked, though we both knew the answer already.
"Look. I don't want to talk about it, okay? You know how hard this has been on me, and you haven't been making it any easier."
"Hey, I've tried. It's just that every time I open up my mouth, something stupid comes out. I know it isn't fair to you, so I came out here to tell you I'm done. I'll just leave you alone from now on."
For a very brief moment I saw a flicker of emotion. "Maybe that's your problem. Maybe you should try keeping your mouth shut."
Your words seemed to be telling me to go, but something in your tone told me to stay. I walked to the railing next to you, and took your advice. We stared out at the deep almost-black of the water, and I tried my best to ignore the sniffling I heard, because I knew that if I tried to comfort you, all of this would end. You would look at me, embarrassed and look away, and I would sheepishly retreat. I was thinking so hard about what I couldn't do that I didn't even notice that your hand had come to rest on mine until you whispered "Thank you," and started to walk away. I knew the morning would bring with it the same cold air as before, but at least tonight I could fall asleep knowing that we were friends, and I guess that will have to be enough.

Something short to set my mind at ease
Since other things are pressing to the fore
Harmonica has stolen all my time
But writing is one thing I simply can't choose to ignore

I'm doing very well to keep the pace
This once-a-day can be a little much
But maybe once a week or once a month
I reach you for a moment, and through digital lines we touch

So this is all, three stanzas is enough
Four lines a piece, with a, b, c, and b
The meter doesn't fit to say its name
The last line longer makes it somewhat special, well, to me

And one more couplet brings us to a close
So that is how tonight's poetry goes.

Sleep is a fickle friend
We never can agree
On exactly when and where to spend our time together.
Sleep is a fickle mistress
When I want to share my bed
She never seems to share my mood
She chooses instead
To bother me at work, or when I've just made other plans
She seems to know how quickly I'll give in to her demands.
We spent a lovely weekend
Just the two of us alone
And though I didn't see another soul all day
By nightfall she had vanished
Simply gone away too soon
And I'm stuck here writing poetry about her
One day I'll have her for my own
One day she'll never leave
But she'll be disappointed in the end
In truth that day will be my last
And so the story goes
About my ever fickle mistress-friend.

Open Mic

An open mic is a wonderful thing.
It gives nobodys like me a chance to feel like somebody
It gives patrons a free show
And most of all it gives aspiring talent a place to go where they know they'll be among friends
Even if they've never seen you before.
I've seen poets and comics
And felt like what I did was easy compared to that
And the musicians
Oh, the musicians!
I've listened to horrible renditions of amazing songs
And amazing renditions of horrible ones
I've tried intently to listen to the painfully awful singer pour out his heart
And as the crowd tries to drown him out with their conversation I just want to stand up and yell
"Shut up!"
Because I want to hear what he has to say
And because he took a chance and got on the stage
And to me that counts for something.
I've seen a man with a gnarly goatee get up and play the most beautiful violin I've ever heard
I've seen a man in a business suit break down a mean "Simple Man"
And I've seen a girl who's only sixteen years old blow my mind with her voice.
I've seen ukelele players play industrial music
And then bust out into pop songs.
I've laughed, and I've sang along
Sometimes both at the same time.
I've gotten on the stage myself and played a few tunes I wrote.
I've gotten long, boisterous applause
And silence
I've been encouraged with words
And used my words to encourage others
I've forgotten the words
Three times in a row
But later I remembered them and played the song as well as I ever have.
I've done all of this, and it never cost me anything
Except to listen
And to share.
And I hope wherever I go next
Wherever this journey takes me
That there will be a bar
With a mic
And an open mind
Because that's where I live
And that's where I love
And that's what makes all the rest of my week worthwhile.

Ten Things I Know To Be True

I've been told that when you're writing
And you reach a loss for words
To write a list of things you know are true.

My list begins with simply this:
I know that love is real
Despite the evidence I have
From relationships that never last,
And a marriage that just fell apart
Before it had a chance to really get going,
I know that one day I'll either die happily in love
Or happy knowing I never gave up on it.

The second thing I know is that everyone has a talent.
Some people don't know what their talent is
And some have been cultivating and growing theirs for years.
Some people have put in the sweat
The blood
The tears
And some just pick it up without any effort at all
But no one is completely without any creative outlet.
Everyone can do something
Whether you draw
Or paint
Or write
Or dance
Or sing
Or play
Or listen to a friend
Or teach.
Maybe you're a dungeon master
Or maybe you can tell a joke.
Maybe you don't know what you can do
But whatever it is
Be proud that you're the one who can do it.

I also know that the internet is wonderful.
Sometimes it's scary
And sometimes it's gross
But if you took it away from me, I think I would be lost
Honestly, I don't know what people did without it.
They probably got a lot more sun.

I know that nachos were made for cheese,
And so was macaroni.
I know that counts for two
And this one makes six total.

I know that the best feeling in the world
Is the one I get when I hear someone else singing along to words I wrote
As if the words are actually meaningful to them.

I know wearing a shiny belt won't stop a car from running over me
And that there is no substitute for common sense
I know things the government hasn't figured out yet.

I know that I'm not always the best of friends
That there have been people in my life I've let down.
Maybe I didn't listen when you needed me
Or maybe I simply wasn't wround
Or worst of all, maybe you called me "friend"
And I didn't return the favor.

I know that the density of gold is 19.3 kilograms per square meter
I learned that in school
And for some reason it stuck.
And I thank every teacher I ever had, for all the bits of knowledge that stuck
Some were in school
Some were at home
Some were myfriends
Or my enemies
Or someone I watched a video of
Or heard on the radio
But all of them, whether they meant to or not
Have taught me more than I could ever have hoped to know
So the next time I think of ten things I know to be true
It will be just as easy
Because I know by then I will have had a hundred more teachers
Teaching me a thousand more things about this world.

So Tell Everyone

"Turn your ear to me," he said,
"and  hear the words I say.
I haven't got much time before
I have to go away.
I've been a lot of places
And I've seen a lot of things
And in my travels I have dined
With emperors and kings
I've lived alone in solitude.
I've lived with two or three
I've lived among the multitudes
Who never noticed me.
I've seen the shores around the world
When I did sailing go.
I've climbed the highest peaks you've seen
And lived off melted snow.
I've fought the very worst of beasts
And all of them I'd kill.
I've bent a spoon in half again
By only pow'r of will.
I've ridden on the back of beasts
As big as any house.
And even once was almost thrown
When one did see a mouse.
I've studied with the scholars
And I bested nearly all
Philosophy, Mathematics,
Every one of them did fall.
In wits I have no match
So you should really never try
I speak the language of all men
From 'Hello' to 'Goodbye.'
Technology comes naturally
I have no greater gift
So trust me with your problems
And you'll never go adrift.
So answering your inquiry,
As only I can do,
The time is quarter after twelve,
Now I must part. Adieu."

Sometimes it's good to stretch your mental mass
And sometimes you can still do it with class
Though sometimes crass
Or filled with sass
And sometimes I can be quite an ass
But alas
The time will pass
And like the grass
We'll wither and fall away. 

I hate to use some kind of lame excuse
Like awaiting inspiration or a muse
And so I must admit for all to see
My failures lie with no one else but me
I tried to write, but that's a partial lie
Since no attempt was made, like I imply
I simply sat there, staring into white
The cursor blinking in and out of sight
Until I finally gave up on the task
And went to bed.

The weekend is here, and I'm afraid
I've nothing yet to do
So I'll just sit alone up in my room.

I'm feeling like I did back then
Before I moved away
I try so hard to put away the gloom

Perhaps I'm better on my own
I certainly should know
It seems like that's the only side of me

But still it would be nice to know
Just what it's like to fit
I try too hard to find my place to be

The loneliness has threatened to consume
But I'm the only one who gets to see