Poems 2010-11


What have you got to lose? ( 6/6/2011)

what have you got to lose x3
except your heart
what have you got to lose x3
all that you’ve got

just say you love them , with all your heart
just say you love them, with all that you’ve got

there’s something, that we all fear.
when you’re in love, those words you hear.
afraid to say them first,  you hesitate!
there just words, if not said could break


Sunrise Irony 9/30/2010)

Fall before the sunrises and the ending is near.
A riddle tune of suspect advise, given to us  in fear.
I call into the wind and its silence is my misery.
Fighting for your love now is like battling for everything.

Seasons ending soon, Sunrise is Irony
the seasons ending soon, no time to say goodbye.

Our Pages turning, this story is unfolding
the choices we make never ending,  Our love is forever and blinding.

Crazy times ahead for us, nothing can prepare you for the dreams.
They keep us awake at night, waiting and anticipating what could come.




Rocket Man (9/30/2010)

Flight of the mighty Bee

I arrive at the airport, the sights and sound strange but familiar. There is the bustle of the crowds, the “wonk wonk” of the intercom and the dull tempo roar of planes soaring to thier destinations.  The gate is busier than I remember, a flight has been cancelled. The mutterings of frustration and anger swirling around. The mood turning from the bright warm sunny day outside to overcast and gloom. I’m standing in the gate line, I have no seat you see, but I’m assured that I have one somewhere. The front of the plane, the back or maybe the wing?

People talk on their cell phones, their agendas diametric to each other. One is trying to bleed cost savings and pennies from a car rental and yet another debates if they should even be in line or not with their home bound companions.

Time begins to lose meaning, the airlines are like a well rehearsed Vegas act timing take offs and landings like a hire wire circus. I am out of my element, I don’t know their dance moves or routines. Many here have not flown before, others this is their second trip this week in an endless parade around the country.

I can feel the uneasiness around me the frustration from the others. Time ticks down and you wait. You know the plane will lift with or without you but you have to try and stack the odds in your favor.

Nudge forward, take a step back I feel like some Beef cattle in line for the slaughter. Everyone moves up but to where no one is at the counter yet but the anticipation is strong among those around me. Could I get my chance soon? Will I need to plead my case to the seat judge? Will I get one or will they be  out, like some carnival food vendor on opening night?

Only time will tell but I would be very pleased to get a 2 dollar soda 45 thousand feet in the air.


It’s a Plane Day (9/30/2010)

Watching the planes land and take off.
I think about how special our lives have been.
I need the power of the engines thrust.
Nothing feels as good as when we land.

Like clock work they land with purpose and demand.
Take off is full power no looking back.
They all travel with a reason, a flight plan.
Radio the tower tell them we’ll pull up the slack.

Inside each plane are different people, they are like our emotions.
Each one has a story of how they got there and where they are going.
I want the whole world to know truth.
That this isn’t a normal, I say. This is not a normal old plane day.

From miles above, everyone looks small but each of them can stand tall.
Knowing that I know they are the brave souls who gave their lives so that we could go home.



Flight Pork (9/30/2010)

There isn’t any thing I would not do for you.
nothing I would not plan to finish.
You might think I’m a simple man worth a small plan, but I have what it takes to make you proud.
Your like an angel only in disguise, your a woman with a little girl inside.

Open your heart, open your mind and you’ll see.
We have every thing ahead of us , and nothing to worry about.
Walk down the fashion runway of life like you own it.
Smile and wave or they’ll think you don’t want it.

Here I am high above it all, but it means nothing since your not here.
The coast line passes under me and all I can think about is coming home to you and the kids.
It’s night now and the dark is as black as ink from the pen that wrote you this poem.

We traveled this far we should go the remainder of the distance.
Made myself smile, made myself cry. Sorry that I spilled my emotions on your dress

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Do you remember that time that you tripped and I caught you in misstep.
Do you remember that letter we wrote but didn’t address.

Funny story, I forgot your name, I forgot were we met.
Do you think it matters this late in the game  now that we’ve got last night to forget.

Over the water does the rain really make anything wet? Am I crazy when I think our love is the easy way.
Thirty thousand feet up and all I can see is you in my heart.
Ever thing else is tiny from up here but your love is visible from outer space.

Count to ten, call it a dozen.
I won’t give up on us
Do every thing our way.
Your blue eyes always surprise me.

Count to ten, call it a dozen.
There isn’t anything that can stop us.
Doing out our way.
Your blue eyes always surprise me.


Treed Softly (9/30/2010)

Their pure souls, with their horror of question after question.
Unable to control themselves when it would be easy they instead unleash thier fury upon those who mearly stand near or are related by birth.

The running and jumping are the worst. They pay no kind to those around them, they heed no empathy. Crashing and bumping, thundering and rushing.
Jumping for the sake of it they tell all that they pay no toll.

They are inquisitive in nature though and inherently directed towards good, but that child is hidden deep below the many layers of dirt, old hot dog and juice stains.
Hidden it may be at times like the sun on a freakishly rainy day it will break from behind cover and shine brightly for a moment.
These are the times every parent lives for and carries them forward a little longer.

Barside (9/30/2010)

The hot red tables with there secrets and lines.
They don’t show thier age as much as the bar.
She knows me, has a hold of me.
She at least pretends to know me and my friends.

The man behind the bar hears the yelling hears the sin.
He hears the fact that the old man hates his wife and hates his life, but he says it with a grin.
The bar makes change but never changes.
It is the same lover, the same promoter in every city, the same crowd come to see the stage.
Many eat lunch here. Some think they live here.
Others try to pick up love here but find bitter memories and fleeting eyes.
I met my wife here, you can call it here but it was a thousand miles away.
In the end I think if I wasn’t at least born here that I’ll die here.
With the old jukebox and bachyball dart games.




 Posted by at 6:41 am