Weed in the Crack

I walk the city streets alone at night.  These broken sidewalks cover rich soil who’s product still seeps through the cracks in some spots. This vegetation is alone and far from its peers. Truly screaming in a crowded room but the human ear can’t pick up those frequencies. No, not at all. Across the street I see a man that looks a little like me but much older and far more decrepit. He is rotting from the outside in. He wears that dirt on his skin like a badge. As I pass he ask me for change, but I have none. Then I think that it is he that should have change. I ponder if that makes me a bad person. Yes, that makes me a bad person. However, I believe that time is a gift that you can use to gain or lose. Long ago mankind evolved from whatever into whatever so on and so forth. Mankind had to fight to become what we are today. I’m walking in the middle of the night and a homeless man that looks kind of like me is screaming in the middle of a room but if I chose to hear him then he will never change. If I give him change then he would never change, just grow to expect this kind of behavior from everyone that passes. You could call this indifference, but I call it help. I call it forced evolution. I walk on until I find myself falling asleep, warm under my down comforter. The next morning the homeless man wakes up and makes his way to the liquor store. On his way he passes a resale shop. The resale shop is having a sale. Through the window he can see a decent suite. It just might fit him and its a steal. He thinks for a second that he might look real sharp in that discounted suite. He might clean up real good and all of the homeless on the block might ask him for change for once. He hesitates for a moment just staring through the window. His stomach rumbles loud enough to shake him from his day dream. The homeless man continues down the street and crushes a small plant just growing through a crack in the sidewalk. 

Warm Wind

These four walls cannot contain me
I am the warm wind
That blows in from the west
I carry the smell if fresh flowers
On my shoulders
After the last cold day of winter
I’ll move your lovers hair
So that you may see her face
Her lips and eyes
Her nose and cheeks
Oh how those golden locks
Dance about in my hands
For I am the warm wind
Feel me

When I Get Angry

When my heart pumps hot blood through my veins
My face turns red and my hands shake with anger
I contemplate what it would be like to
Grab you’re face and smash it against the ground.
Over and over and over and over
Watch as you’re features become
A stew of gore and bone
I bight my lip and close my eyes tight
Holding it all inside
Because I’m not that person
Somewhere beyond the insults there’s a future
Filled with something more

Morning

Heavy boots stomp up the seemingly endless set of stairs outside my apartment.
The walls encase the sound waves of their voices in a perfect acoustic chamber as they shout over one another about women they might or might not have had.
They draw their hammers and pound heavy nails into mighty oaken lumber. I hear a stereo blasting the latest top forty country music just over the prolonged hum of a power drill.
This is my rooster crowing wildly
in the morning as I finally close my eyes to sleep.

Comfort In Sleep

Her golden curls sprawl
Across pillows of goose feather
The blankets slowly rise with
Every bit of tainted air that
She pulls into her lungs
It’s cold now in the summer
That cost a bit
But comport is truly worth it
Ask her how well she slept
Or how well she dreamed
Those eyes of hers spiraling
Out of control
Underneath her eyelids
Giving way to
Subconscious cinematic masterpieces
Her lips move but she doesn’t speak
Not one word
Kicking lightly as she falls

Opinions of Power

I don’t care who we vote into power
In the end we all just suffer anyways
So what
Give anyone enough power and
They will fuck it up
It’s human nature to be a
Total piece of shit
Who do you know that’s right for the job?
Exactly
Even if there were some diamond in the rough
They would eventually collapse under the weight
Of the world
Bone would crackle and break
Muscles would separate from tendons.
Give someone enough power and eventually
All you’re left with is a big pile of shit.

Die Alone

Don’t bother me

Go somewhere else

I’m trying to read, think, relax

Play music, write bad poetry, 

Cuddle my cat, watch movies

Drink a beer, eat some pizza,

Don’t bother me

Go somewhere else

I’m driving you away

I guess I just realized that

Come back here and read, think, relax

Check out this song I wrote

Listen to my bad poetry

Give my cat the love it deserves

Have you seen this movie

Do you want a beer

Have a slice of pizza

Please stay because I don’t want to die alone. 

 

 

Settle

The city sleeps in silence as the clock strikes three. I breath deeply and wish I was somewhere else. We all spend our lives teasing the idea of just up and moving to fulfill some sacred wanderlust. When I get there will the leaves on the trees have as rich of a green color, and would they hold the snow as well? Will the choir of morning birds sound as sweet? When I go out will familiar faces smile as bright? Is there a balance? We spend our whole lives wanting to get out but when I close my eyes to sleep I dream of this place.