November 10


I was writing a scary story to post for Halloween, and I completely dropped the ball on finishing it up in time.  I’m still working on it, but in the meantime, here’s another of my very rare poems.

It’s quiet in this room

As the world lies asleep

And I sit here awake

But suddenly, a creak.

I wander from the sofa,

Pass into the kitchen

Stop at the hallway

Dare to take a listen.

“Certainly,” I think

“It’s just the house settling”

But then I realize

Someone must be meddling.

“Impossible,” I mumble

“I know I closed the door”

But the evidence is clear

As it swings ajar.

I push the slab closed

Quickly twist the lock

Turn around to walk back in

And encounter quite a shock.

Frightful, you may call it

You’d suspect that was the case

As I certainly did not expect

To be staring a man in the face.

March 28

Are you afraid of the dark?

There’s a light on down the hallway,

Piercing through the dark,

Its yellow glow creeps in my doorway,

Causing my thoughts to stop.

You see, a light would be so comforting,

Since I’m home alone,

But only if the power had not been out,

From the frightful passing storm.

August 21


If I could choose to be alone,

If I had the strength to walk down that road,

I would still need you like I need you,

I would still feel your touch across time zones,

I would still have a heart that beats for you,

And I would still not have words that did my feelings justice.

August 1


My arm extends and falls atop the pillow upon which her head had lain,

My stomach twists and there is an ache in my chest that pills cannot cure.

Only one pillow had decorated the bed, and now there are two,

The second serves as a constant reminder that she had been there,

That I had lost myself in her eyes right there, and she into mine.

My arms had never felt better than when they were wrapped around her.

Now, nothing is there except the pillow and an empty spot in the bed.

When my arm reaches out for her, it grasps only at emptiness,

And I don’t know how to function without her touch.

April 13


I wish I could get inside your head,

See the world from the goggles of your judgement,

Part the weave into threads,

See what makes you treat others like dirt,

Take it all apart and find out why you always feel so hurt.

Why do you bicker?

Why do you start fights and condemn?

With an attitude so damning,

You must think yourself a divine authority,

The judge, the jury, and the executioner,

The fire, the fury, and the persecutor.

But you are no better than anyone else,

You are no more than those you torment,

And hopefully one day you’ll learn that

the best way to spread your message is by setting an example worth following.

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March 23


I guess we like to play ourselves for fools

every time we say those three damned words,

The ones that hurt so much every time

my answer comes back in deathly silence,

You like to play your little games,

And that’s fine, I have games too,

But if you want to have a chance at all

You’d better choose a side and mean it,

Because I can see right through your lies,

Every time you grit your teeth and smile

I still hear your serpent’s tongue hissing in your throat,

Making me regret every last word I breathed to you.

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November 21


It’s just me, her, and the road underneath,

She glides down asphalt like a sword into a sheath,

I press down the pedal and zip into fourth,

Top end evens out, giving way from torque.

“This is crazy,” I think – the speed, the thrill!

Like a lion on the hunt, going in for the kill.

Her nose points straight, an arrow to course,

In the dust she will leave regret and remorse.

Beyond the horizon the sun starts to fall,

Grins, pride – having answered the road’s call.

“Thanks for the fun,” as I pull her inside,

Still intoxicated from the thrill of the ride.

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November 7


It has been quite some time since I’ve seen  you,

I guess that has its ups and downs,

But your smile made me question everything,

And though I may never know you any better,

At least I have known you in the first place,

Though, maybe our paths will converge,

In which case, I look forward to perspectives

different than than those I am familiar with.

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November 3


I’ve seen you before,

But we haven’t spoken much,

You radiate, you shine,

The day is made brighter

when you walk outside,

I want to know you,

I want to laugh with you,

I want to share time,

So let’s slow down,

Let’s not let this sign

on the highway pass us by.

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