The Thoughts That Keep Me Alive

The only thing I have is the future
The thought of growing old
The thought that there is more to this than now
The thought of the money I will have
The thought of moving out of this hell
The thought of the lovers I will fuck
The thought of all the lovers I will love
The thought of the stories I will write
The thought of the poems I will preach
The thoughts that take away the chills
It’s all that still holds me to the earth
Keeps a slight smile on my face
All that keeps me sane
All that keeps me alive

The Woman Who Saw Everything As It Was

The young woman was always gloomy

“But it’s okay”

Her therapist would say

“Everyone has bad weeks”

But she had bad months

No, she had a bad life

But things were okay in the end

She had books to help her hide

She had friends that pretended to care

She had that one hat with the feather

And an amazing sense of realism

That she knew not everyone had

Yet there was still something missing

Some piece to her that was just empty

Dictionary

The grown man never cries

Instead he quaintly whimpers

Until he is cockeyed

But at least he is a healthy fellow

Starting a revolution in his own body

Coquetting the night away

In his medieval style

His life is like an episode

Of consequence that is considerable

Always on the breach of something

That is not about redemption

But like his brother in law always says

“Review the reverie! Review the reverie!”

Instead he forgets it, and keeps on living

Study Break Sonnet

A simple message from you drives me mad

Since I don’t know how to talk to you

But I want to talk

I want to know everything about you

I want to become a cliché with you

Hold hands in the park

Watch movies and have dinner

Have a perfect romance

A movie romance

Something that may never happen

I want to know you intimately

I want to know you personally

I want to believe that can we be something

But first I must learn how to speak

During Shakespeare Sonnet

Wishing I could get a cookie

Just because my head is light

Sleep is taunting me again

Though I had hours of it

I don’t understand my head

Why does it not leave me be?

I want to rest, and be rested

But no, I’m screwed to be tired

And sleeping on BART is not a choice

It is a fear that leaves me goose bumps

But this tired is taking over

It is making me no sense

If only I could sleep some more

But no time, no time at all

234

When the sun dances high

Totally godsend

Burning my fucking eye

But it’s okay in the end

Block the rays with my arms

How my life is such a big bore

But failure brings me harm

How horrible of days I’ve had before

Block the rays with some shades

Because this poem does not even know

But only little does it fade

Wondering how horrible this day will go

Thinking about some random song

I give up, and keep strutting along

123

The old woman was a cunning dame

And a Storyteller of sorts

Until the day it returns, continuing

Speaking a never ending story

That Raymond was only half listening to

Because he never listens to the world

“It’s a shame, a shame”

Her ex-lover would say

But decisively in just that way

He would show off vintage photos

“She doesn’t look like a beast there”

She doesn’t look like a beast here

Nethertheless, there is always something horrifying

About the past, that still waits

Dejala

Don’t Fall Apart On Me Tonight

You are the Nicest Thing I know

And I don’t want to say Bye and Bye

So I hide myself in a Cocoon of lies

Pretending to be an Actor Out Of Work

But your Desire to leave never withdrawals

But I pretend I have a Heart Of A Lion

Creating a stronger Version of myself

But I Should Have Known Better

It’s Cool, We Can Still Be Friends

Forget the Cigarettes Wedding Bands

Making this sonnet About A Girl

Who keeps me on of the edge of Survival

That one girl I met at The Market

Lifted Or The Sonnet Is In The Soil Keep Your Ear To The Ground

Well the future got me thinking such awful thoughts

Animals laughing from the dark of the wilderness

Missing the frowns you never used to give

Please return, return to the person that you were

You wrote such pretty words that

Washed away the rumors and left the concrete truth

I know that I completed you

But men with purple hearts carry silver guns

You used to cut my nightmares out of paper

Created a book that sunk into the sand

Now you don’t even bother

To give a therapeutic smile

Please return, return to what you were