Wings

I’ve got angel wings around my wrist

like a constant reminder of my mission to take flight

and sometimes when I’m all alone

I can swear that flying is possible

because life,  life, well life has a way of making everything seem alright

and there’s something about this place,

oh, this place that brings out the real me

the me who can laugh and cry and smile and sing and fly

so let’s go to never never land

lets never grow up or grow apart

cause we’re the start of something beautiful

if there is a heaven, it would look like  this room 

loud, full of spirit, love, support, acceptance, and magic.

So. God, grant me wings, and sew them on tight

cause I’m much too fly not to attempt flight tonight

the sky is mine for the  taking

not even gravity can keep me down

because life, life, well life has a way of giving what’s asked of it

and your eyes, well they make me forget that my heart was ever broken

your eyes make my vocabulary infused mind forget the meaning of broken

and I tend to run and hide when faced with words like maybe, falling, and fast

in fear of that four letter word that inevitably becomes the finish line

but I think that you are the tailor who is securing  my instruments of flight

you are my catalyst to the sky

so why don’t we fly

take our chances in the stratosphere 

let all our fears evaporate

and rain over this town

let’s combine our romanticism 

and form a star in heaven

because life, life, well life has a way of granting the love that’s deserved

 

Write From The Heart Never The Head

the thing about writing poetry,

is that it’s all been said before,

Shakespeare stole all my great lines of love and heartache

Dylan Thomas already perfectly raged against the dying of the light

and Allen Ginsberg monopolized the destruction of a generation

in a single poem.

so these days the trick is to find a new way to say the some old bull shit.

but poetry and prose are people, too.

they need air to breath and space to grow

so take a step back, breath in deep allow the words to sink in

cause poetry is more than words, more than feelings, than ink, than structure, more than rhyme;

but put them all together and you have a piece of art.

the only way to write is to sink into whatever it is you feeling,

allow the paper to become that feeling, to become the back drop to whatever of your world

the paper isn’t just processed wood, it isn’t white, it isn’t empty, it’s a painted canvass

and it’s ours turn to add the color and the shape of our hearts.

See Sick

I’ve been feeling kind of see sick lately

‘cause I see more evil than love and that’s something I can never understand

I used to wear my heart on my sleeve but someone’s arms were colder than

mine so they took my sleeves away from me

that’s why I carved my heart into my thigh and threw the flesh into the sea

I figure my heart will see something to ease my worried eyes

and settle my stomach into a Philadelphia future, a cheese steak state of mind

a fire breathing dragon decision, a screenplay, playwright ,right story, right character, right choice,

good change, spare change, ever changing, starving artist, trunk space, less space, who needs space?

red pen, napkin paper, made up word maker, roadside, curbside, weak side, strong side, peace side, trust side

believer that there is hope underneath the doubt

hope, the bottomless pit of possibilities, anticipation, forward motion, wish upon a star or maybe a satellite because there is no difference anymore

they all look the same from down here we panic all the time about time and the lack there of

down here we trust in gravity to keep us grounded and bring us love

down here we swear to god that we mean it

only when fingers are crossed behind our backs

cause down here we like our lies and trust our enemy’s opinions more than our own

down here we only want honesty when it sounds pretty, looks immaculate,  dresses appropriate and makes us feel good

down here we lie lie lie like to overprotect, overexpose, over promote, over kill, over do

down here we all have eyes in the back of our head

it’s called hindsight

and we rely on it to teach us what went wrong

always what went wrong

never what went right

that’s why I write and spit and speak and bitch and grow and learn and teach and make a wrong turn and take the long way home and wish and hope and doubt and feel

I believe in change and I believe in trying

and I believe that when you put the two together that anything is possible

cause change is trying to break through and get through but we won’t let it through cause we aren’t trying to change

we aren’t trying to hear it or believe it we aren’t trying to see it

and that makes me see sick

cause all I can do it see it pass us by

and I hate gravity for not allowing me fly

cause I can’t catch up to it on foot

and I don’t have enough change to get me in the air

so I’m stuck here writing at my computer chair

waiting for something to happen

Clarity

One can’t forever stand on the shore; at some point, filled with indecision, skepticism, reservation and doubt, you can either jump in or concede that life is forever elsewhere. – Arthur Miller

 

i. am. just. standing here. 

nothing more.

time is my unconquerable enemy

because the only thing i can do is wait

so currently my feet are fusing with the floor

despite the fact that i wish i were running for the door

and my incandescent eyes see the cosmic sea of my future

as stars illuminate the ticking clock

so i can contemplate why time

commits suicide every ever second of the day

and why i can  never wish it alive again

nevertheless my feet are growing roots

in the sandy shores of my life

the tide is growing high, i can feel

the cold water lapping on my toes

and it’s growing, and growing and

soon it’ll take me whole, make me whole

drown me in desire  as i swallow the water of aspiration

making my lungs explode with the sands of time

the sands of chance, of hope. the sands of possibility

and the possibilities are endless

so this is my everlong, wondering

if things will ever be this clear again

‘cause i’m poignant but vivid

i think i’ve seen both sides now

i’ve learned that i don’t know much at all

but i have my whole life to live, i guess it really is

times like these when we learn to love again

and yeah, maybe i am just standing here

but i’m ready to take my first step again

i’m prepared to move on and swim in my sea

rather than merely look upon and marvel at its splendidness

i think i finally found a soft spot for this island i call home

but i know what my next stop is. so for once i’ll enjoy the ride

take in the sights, try to live every moment

and i bet philadelphia was sunny today

vibrant and cheeky, a lot like me

one day soon i know its skyline will hold me up

and make me tall but in the meantime

i guess i just have to wait, just have to stand here

i suppose its not as bad as i thought

cause the veiw’s pretty good

when i’m here looking at all of you

and i’m coming together a little more each day

the picture on my puzzle is starting to make sense

the dimensions of my heart are starting to be clear

my limits are becoming more obvious

i’m learning what i can take

understanding how much i can give

and for the first time in my life

being alone isn’t a threat

probable cause to never ending migraine

i think my head hurts every time i try to fool  myself into believing that i’m sincere .

maybe it’s just a reminder that my head’s getting too big or that it’s simply filled with air.

it’s like my personal pride meter, my ego awareness, the anvil on my confidence, or just plane karma.

i left my dharma at the door, washed my hands of emotions and settled for numb again.

so now i don’t know how to get out of this mess i’m in cause i don’t want him.

but who needs truth and honesty when “tease” is written on your lips? 

heartbreak’s the name of the game and i’m the reining champ so unless you’re a masochist stay away

because i don’t trust myself with love.

i’m pretty sure you’ll deserve better than this and i know it’s nothing i can give without faking it a little.

2am and no one will call me even though i’m still awake.

can you help me cover up and hide my latest mistake?

I can’t pretend that winter was ever my season.

the best place to write a poem

my chair seems tired of holding

up me and my big ideas

underwear poems don’t thrill me

like they used to

my brain’s too cold, too rational

there’s nothing poetic up there anymore

but it’s cold outside

the park bench is nothing more

than an ice patch

the roof’s too soggy

the beach too bitter

avalon too baron

man, i wish i wasn’t alone

cause a heart’s not the right place to write

when i’m writing all alone

and you may think i’m happy

but you haven’t looked me in the eyes

if you did you’d know the truth

cause eyes that aren’t connected with a heart

show the avalon inside

but i guess that should be expected

since my hearts a maze

that goes round and round

and it seems to me like it only leads to one place

cause no matter how many times I follow

my path around

my thoughts always come back to you

and i still can’t believe you read back to you

and i hope one day i really will be back with you

cause these boys I spend my time with

don’t make me smile like you do

still it’s all for the best

temporary, permanent

it really doesn’t matter i guess

cause no matter how i twist and turn it

i’m still alone for now

in this room full of friends

or at home in my bed

or out on a bench

cause i’ve been lonely lately

especially when i found those old pictures

and when you send me a message

but I guess it’s time i get over you enough

for contentness and maybe some connectedness

with anyone but you