I write two kinds of poetry:
- “On Demand” – meaning: people give me a topic, a time constraint (3 minutes), and a number of words. These poems are usually rough.
- “I Meant That” – poems I worked on without constraint.
I started a new category called “Best Poems“, which is a collection of category #2 (I had time to think and edit).
I did this so that you can read the stuff I think is my best.
When she’s feeling her worst,
the only comfort she wants
is to be told everything will be OK.
I’ve learned to tell her this,
even though I know it’s a lie.
If I am ever beside her on her deathbed,
and I tell her that,
I fear she’ll leave this world with the realization
that the lifetime of comfort
that gave her a sacred sense of home,
was nothing but an illusion.
The only thing worse than death that can happen
(when you are high),
is you believing you possess infinite wisdom
you are compelled to prophet.
You lose your voice never shutting up with the fantastical delusions
we should hear only from childrens’ writers.
The saddest part about it
is that this is the most enlightened you will ever feel.
Your religion is based on all your have learned
When you were not in reality.
Maybe this woman gave us the theme because it was Gay Pride Day and there were free tests being given.
Subject: “Your First AIDS Test”
Word Count: 15
Your First AIDS Test
Pass / fail tests – when do they ever get respect?
But this one cannot mean more.
Sobriety is a sharp blade
That can cut anything.
Intoxication is a dull blade
That cuts nothing into pieces.
I’ve been to the bottom and back.
Sometimes I leave because they kick me out,
other times I get enough sense to leave on my own,
but mostly I can’t remember why or how I left.
Usually I have to take a cab home,
and get my car in the morning.
I’ve been to the bottom a lot
sometimes I spend days there.
I take smoke breaks outside the place
which is how I’ve met friends…good friends
though I never know when I’ll see them again.
I carved my name in the bar stool,
change has fallen out of my pockets and is still in the couch.
There is a lot of me there, at the bottom,
but I only leave pieces of me
I won’t need when it’s time
to go back up.
My life is a secret,
shall I say more?
The secret is my best friend
but we have nothing else in common.