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Staring into the

desolate snow globe

watching my brittle

tears howl from the chair

Craving novacane for

my anorexic heart

Gravitating to the infection

that is soaking to

my sensitive past

Refusing to retrace

my footsteps of

Chestnut street

Tangled ghosts weave

through out my

strewed mind

Only to see a glimpse

of a debilitating disease

Concentrating on the

disappearing inner tyke

Becoming a nomad within

Placing my hands in my

ragged and faded jeans

trying to capture the light

of playing hopscotch

No matter how many times

I seek the clarity and purity

of my jagged youth

Chestnut Street is just a sign

on a ten foot pole

*Laurel has asked me to use this street name for the Challenge.

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The stench will never disappear. I sit here in agony replaying the years in my head. I stare into the pitch black and contemplating the decisions that I have made in my colorful life. I was a jester. I have discarded all the useful cards in the deck only leaving myself with only a few to hold in my tired hands. I steer away from the root. I run away from the tears that refuse to see the sun. I was the fool in believing in the word forever. You took me for granted. I took you for granted. You didn’t have the ability to own up in your own mistakes. You chose to be stagnant. I thought I was the infant in this relationship. I took my vows seriously. My heart is full of mush, layers of sensitivity, and the cream you find in the center of a donut. I wanted more. I craved depth. I took responsibility of my actions. I stumbled away shapeless seeking the truth. I am a lost soul. All I can see is a twinkling light. I will find my way out. If there is one thing I do well it’s being persistent. Nobody will tell me I can’t do something.

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She has eyes like the sunrise

and deep scabs like diamonds

She has darkness in her clouds

and she could see the light

She has everlasting dreams

and tenderness in her veins

She has discolored nightmares

and the blood drips from her wounds

She has beauty in her mind

and fears up on a shelf

She has loyalty in a grip

and dedication on her sleeve

She has a glass world of love

and sensitivity woven in her skin

She has purity in her voice

and gentleness in her spirit

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Behind dreary and restless clouds

She writes under a vivid pseudonym

Disguised and distinguished to the brim

Covering every inch of the tapestry

Dressed up in lavish innuendos

Only wearing a sheath of tingling dismay

Sewn and stitched to the eyelashes

Carefully placing a bookmark on page 98

A writers block glued to the forehead

Paragraphs trapped in a corridor

A preface floating in a cylinder

Guided by penetration and fantasy

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Roaring parking meters

Stoplights slurring

Traffic jams sound like an arcade

Vendors flipping dollars

Counting change in thin gloves

Smiles parading like a festival

Inhaling the scent of hot dogs

Car doors slamming

Taxi cabs galore

Newspaper stands hand shakes

Concrete greetings

Tap dancing on pavement

Bartenders barking like a pit bull

Candy shops humming sweetness

Downtown in a ornament

Brick walls glaring spray paint

Little Anthony circling fire hydrants

Simone shouting obscenities

Dimes shoved in a jukebox

Ingredients of simplicity

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Florescent wildfire

A scattered chill

Ignited by your tongue

World class enthusiast

Lessons learned

Sincerely apologetic

Exposed to your

magnetizing glass world

Sensing fragility

But armor and strength

Cherishing every second

Recording your laughter

Questions compiling

Curiosity rises

Raising me to the clouds

Wishing for three more hours

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Untamed and unforgettable

Ripple effect spreads like a disease

Lip licking and chomping

Like a wounded dog without a collar

Even your shadows cry

All you do is scratch

Tick tock…

Chasing traumatized winds

Clotheslined by barbwire

A feared and reckless beast

Gnawing at my insides

Even your skin is distasteful

All you do is claw

Tick tock…

Crippling my essence

Ruthless and disturbing you crawl

A relentless bitch

Foaming at the mouth

Even your tears want to run from you

All you do is manipulate

Tick tock…

You won’t know what hit you

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Between the handshakes and

the cold New Hampshire hospitality

Salutations and red carpets

are the cornerstones of this

broken down concrete

Standing ovations and hugs

are shared among the living

from the golden curbs

Wreaths of prosperity are

hung on the door all year round

Love thy neighbor is a

song sung in multiple languages

Perhaps Welcome Street is

the Apple pie of the United States

Check out my books!

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Once upon a time,
I used to wish for a love like ours,
Once upon a time
I pondered that very phrase.
I sat under those bright stars beside you
and saw the words “forever” ring in my ears.
Or at least a love that the stars would forever engrave in themselves,
To be look upon with awe and wonder,

Questions of how did they over come the odds and make it to that kind of happiness,
A love worthy of songs and fairy tales and beauty,
As we gazed into each other’s eyes
I wanted to see a glimpse of happiness.
In my heart I could feel the world stop
but darling in my mind our lives continued.

But I’m starting to find that once upon a time only begin once,
The moment had scratches and it was no longer clear to me.
The only clarity I saw was that we should no longer stare in the fairy tale and stare into reality.
And everything that falls in between is up to chance.
Love is just not a word in a song, card, or in a poem.
Love isn’t just displayed in a movie scene or a play.
Love requires action, consistency, and a splash of romance.

So darling, I could be your perfect once upon a disaster,
Tangles in the highest tower laced with thorns and roses, tasted in the last bite of the poisoned apple,
Or….or we can work to create a new fairy tale.
Once I threw our written fairy tale in the trash can I grabbed a note pad.
I wrote 10 reasons why I am madly in love with you.
I wrote 10 reasons why I want to be with you.
I tore this sheet out of the notepad and placed it on the refrigerator.

Let the old stars die, fall with the hearts of those before us,
I don’t need a fairy tale nor a “Once Upon A Time” beginning.
Sweetheart, my love, I just need to be open, expressive, intuitive, caring, and considerate.
And lets give birth to a new galaxy full of stars that will shine and dazzle those who look up and wish a forever on once upon a time….
If I truly love you, every day that word “forever” will truly mean something.
Forever starts with my attitude, outlook, and the desire to show you how much you mean to me.

A Writer’s Soul – Non Italics

Overflowing Ink – Italics

I had done a collaboration with Kristen and it was quite fun! Kristen is a wonderful writer. Please check out her blog if you haven’t – you will read some great poetry!

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Pearl of the generation

A gypsy in psychedelic rock

Chugging beers in her bellbottoms

The queen of Woodstock

Unforgettable decorated wail

In the circle of the blues

Never drove a Mercedes Ben

Taking a piece of my heart

Playing Try just a little harder

over and over

Addictions took her away

Forever Me and Bobby McGee

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Skewed perception

Perhaps off white

layered in complexity

gazing at simplicity

Efficiency is critical

order is a pillar

Labeled and identified

Root causes are visual

Painted problem solver

in tuned sentiments

Unbiased points of view

Visionary eyes of reality

splashes of confidence

covers my creative heart

Willing to care about others

Too sensitive

Small circle of friends

see me as off white

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Scolded by police sirens
Fire hydrants craving a drink
Chards of glass from the window
laying on the pavement with anger
Barbers and bartenders exchanging
witty nicotine sarcastic conversations
Mimes and witnesses pleading
the 5th amendment to the scene
Instigators snarl at the defendants
Allegations and half truths spoken like
lawyers in a lions den
Blood stains dry on Dripping Ink Avenue
Desperately screaming to the stop light
The curbside is a destination
for gamblers, burglars, and vendors
staring up at the mustard sun
Faces of debutants and vigilantes
walk past the New York landscape

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Stale chips

fallen on a checkered pattern

linoleum floor

Empty pizza boxes

stacked on a granite

counter top

Blaring from the speakers

Duran Duran’s Greatest Hits

Reminiscing of old times

Lost arguments boil

to the rim and simmer down

Recognizing friendships

are made to last unlike

marriages and cars

Green pastures and mountain

eagle like views overtake

your narrow perception

on Coach Road in

the quiet town of 4000 humans

Only the stars become thick

and the air is gold in

the heart of Northern Ireland

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Furious waves are dying. The gentleman in me is fading like a light. You carve out the tension and slowly I am denied. The more you take the less of me you receive.

You are not who you advertised. I remain calm as I construct a devious plan. I hold the wind in my hand. I have a defense. I made sure the world knows. Apocalyptic and cryptic I will speak. Repeating my words is not a option.

You use the word love but don’t show it. You use words you don’t express. The storm in this jungle has elevated to a hurricane. Patience is running thin. You love the image. You love the facade. You don’t love me. Say it. Admit it.

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I will never forget the day I moved back home . I will never forget the sentence that broke my heart. “You will never set the world on fire.” The chip on my shoulder just became bigger. Perhaps he is just a realist. Perhaps he saw his son average. I’m not saying he didn’t know how to love and care. I’m not saying he was a bad father but I would NEVER tell that to my son.

Little boy the message here is that you can be what you want to be. You are going to make choices I probably won’t agree with at the moment but the belief in you won’t disappear. I want to do something that my father didn’t do, just understand you. Please don’t be afraid to open up. I don’t want to be a critical spirit like him and put your thoughts under a microscope. Your father is a writer at heart and doesn’t have support from those who I thought would support. I stand alone. You will never stand alone.