Tuesday, December 28, 2010


I could be so much more
I could be a great star
If there had been effort

If there had been effort
If I had put more into it
I could be far better

I could be far better
I could be good enough
If only I were

Monday, December 27, 2010

Rubber Band

A rubber band is a strong thing
So long as not stretched too far
When it then breaks and all falls
And its groups no longer are

Saturday, December 25, 2010


Wonderful recollection of the birth of human God
Occurring December 25th each year
Sacred celebration of the incarnation of Christ
Leading his people out of their fear

Gathering in the Church with the community
Unifying the varied in Mass
Remembrance of the event with a great party
Collecting beloved family en masse

Congregation in a familiar and comfortable home
Unwrapping gifts galore
Revelation of the holiday's wondrous spirit
Manifesting in the store

Monday, December 20, 2010

You Write Good Poetry

Are you really so down upon yourself
When right over there, sitting on the shelf
Is a set of poems written by your own hand
That frankly, in a single word, are grand

Give yourself a bit of credit, dear
And trust me when you then hear
That you have written quite well
And so now I try to compel

You to write a bit more for us all
Perhaps something better than that goofball
Who writes so much on some dumb website
Who you could probably beat without a fight

Yes, he's alright, some poetry strong
But never are his efforts that long
Whereas you, with your patient mind
Can, in poetry, kick his sorry hind

So now I invite you to try once more
Your hand at poetry, I even implore
Please, oh please, write it again
One, two, thirteen, and then

Think about what you've accomplished
With the words formed you have nourished
Minds of men and hearts of them too
All because of the poetry by you

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


Once upon a time there was a
Gigantic purplish fuzzy bee.
Which is really strange, eh?
But what is shall then be.

Look at that creature, see
How it plays some great de-
Fense in the hive's annual Cee
Lo Green sponsored Game D,

Within its tournament, a
Tradition for the queen bee,
Friend of all sport to a
Point of no harm to a bee.

Thursday, December 9, 2010


Isn't it just crazy
How I'm up late working
On readings for a paper
Due in 108 hours?

I must be insane
And I know it happened
Somewhere in the past 18
Years, but where?

That's it, I'm mental
And there's no going back
To the future or the past
Or to a state of sanity

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Computer Virus

You lurk in the shadows of the Internet
Watching, waiting for your opportunity
You hop onto that computer and hold tight
Obnoxious, loud, flashy, and deadly

But with the help of a friend
Hours of effort
It can work out in the end
Computer's unhurt

Virus, nice try, better luck next time
You were a worthy adversary, "Antivirus Action"
Come around if you get a chance ever
And we'll test out my antivirus reaction

Deeper Meaning

Deeper meaning lurks somewhere in the dark
As I seek it out from these choice words
Unsure of any possible significance
As I pick through as a pack of buzzards

This poem had meant something to me
For why else would I then write it
But the circumstance and thought is gone
As I seek some meaning to now refit

Deeper meaning lurks somewhere in the dark
Evading me and leading me away
Unsure of any possible significance
Which I cannot recall to this day

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Late Night

It's a late night
Writing a paper on
Arthur, legendary king, not
President number twenty-one

Writing a poem
To pass the time
And rest my mind from

Arthur and his stupid
Chivalry and honor
Cause I prefer my

President obsession
To that king and
This stupid paper

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Go Ahead and Hurt Me

I don't care if you hurt me.
I don't care if I cry.
I don't care if you straight-up
Make me wanna die.
It doesn't matter one bit
About the hurt I feel.
All that is important is
That my love is real.
You're worth being hurt
And worth feeling some pain.
You're worth mile-long walks
To the store, in the rain.
Because what takes me down,
What makes me sad
Is nothing compared to all
That makes me glad.
I'm happiest when I am
Somewhere with you
Without you, then,
I don't know what I'd do.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


I'll put it off for just a second
One tiny little insignificant moment
Let just a minute pass right here
Then two minutes, three, an hour

The next day it still hasn't happened
Looking for a time for that one statement
Time adds up to be more than a year
And the situation only turns more sour

Don't be a giant idiot
Just go ahead; do it

Friday, September 3, 2010


A roll of the dice
A turn of a card
Give it a try
The game isn't hard

Name your own stakes
Throw down the chips
Now you're winning
On these gambling strips

But great big champion
Remember your virtues
Just one bad roll
And all you will lose

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

The Poet

I have toiled and labored for my art
And poured out everything in my heart
In the creation of these great idea shrines
My mind is all wrung out for these few lines

Each word I raise to a higher plane
Carefully formed into haiku or quatrain
They come to me to become exalted
All they need is to be rightly flaunted

The words and the poet in divine harmony
Using each other for their great journey
Leapfrogging together to new heights
They reign then as the poet now writes

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Love Across the Room

I see you there across the room my dear
You are unflawed in each and every way
Dark hair falls down though tucked behind one ear
Your smile makes me inside feel just so gay
Brown eyes wander around gazing at all
And cheeks recalling hues of pink roses
Your lips reach out to me with their love's call
Take care they say to not hit our noses
You stand and start to walk away from this
But where could you go off to lone right now
Soon you'll be gone from life and from my kiss
Thus I can not lose track I so avow
I will persue as you search through some life
Still you will soon become all mine my wife

Friday, August 20, 2010

Gatsby and Standin 3

Gatsby and Standin were fighting crime
In the form of a drug-dealing, murderous mime
And by fighting I literally mean fisticuffs
Over a vat of various boiling hot foodstuffs

The mime silently threw invisible knives
At the heroic pair's imaginary (extremely sexy) wives
Gatsby dove quickly with a really big "NO!"
Was hit with the knives and turned aglow

Nothing was more important than his imaginary wife
And when she was threatened he'd give up his life
But that has nothing to do with the Gatsby-spewed light
Which was completely the work of Standin in his might

Blah blah blahbity blah Standin's voice did it
I don't plan to bore you with every last little bit
Basically what happened is Gatsby and Standin won
And they found the entire experience to really be fun

Oh and don't worry, Gatsby isn't at all dead
I mean, honestly, the knives were in his head
An evil mime isn't suddenly evilly magical
Although this one did have an evil third ankle

The mime rotted in prison but went out loudly
At least by mime standards, and did so proudly
While Gatsby and Standin spent the night with the girls
As they went to the park to chuck acorns at squirrels

Standin sent in a knuckle-acorn really well
And then the squirrel army raised some major hell
As Gatsby and Standin were distracted from their ladies
So opened up the fabled Gates of Hades

The pair of thought-up babes fell right in
And Gatsby and Standin exchanged a quick grin
Those ladies had been holding them so far back
Now the fun would begin anew with this unprecedented squirrel attack

Thursday, August 19, 2010


I wuv Jersey and they posting 4 mirrorpicysss
Waking class likes Ngata
Anybody I meeting is sippin Bowie
All super movie
I is ready, Skype
Excited carnval
Two misses

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Great Honor

A greater honor than I ever dreamed of attaining
Was suddenly bestowed upon me the other day
I've been told to dispose of the opportunity
But to that I quickly and easily say "No way"

Lord knows I haven't lived the most honest life
But I'll take a blessing when it comes to me
Perhaps someday in the greater scheme of things
Even more honored and bless├ęd I could be

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


Bear and bird
The unlikely pair
Must now fight
Through Grunty's Lair
Save Tooty
Little sister bear
From clutches
Of the hag up there
Learn new skills
From the myopic mole
Careful in
Clanker's blowhole
Play the quiz
Then in your hero's role
Battle now
The witch atop her pole
Take her down
With the Jinjonator
Win the game
As you decimate her
Well except
For about two years later
She returns
Rises anew from that crater
Battle 'gain
You two are greater

Monday, August 16, 2010

Jay "The Poet" Kane

Jay "The Poet" Kane,
Posting poetry again.
I wonder if he would throw a fit
When he realizes no one reads it.

Life Keeps Going On

What I wouldn't give to live it all twice
The times I had weren't perfect, but nice
There's plenty of changes I'd like to make
But I'd still take it the same, no mistake

So maybe I did a few people a few wrongs
Perhaps I should have written a few songs
Things didn't always turn out their best
But in the end I suppose I was blessed

Life keeps going on
Though I would like a rewind
I must look ahead

But I can't look ahead, not just yet
I'm still on the times I can't forget
My wonderful past is still on my mind
Even if sometimes I just felt inclined

To belittle its happenstances
And regret a couple of dances
It was not a heroic epic
But still just fantastic

I must look ahead
Though I would like a rewind
Life keeps going on

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Farewell, Not Goodbye

It's time to grow up
Time to live new life
But the transition
Is what causes me strife

I hate to leave behind
Friends family and familiar
But it's a necessary evil
As I best can figure

And as we must bid adieu
I can't say goodbye to you
On now we cannot dwell
Just go out and fare well

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Last Time We Talked

Last time we talked
You said that
I truly am
A good person

You said that
So many times
I started to believe

I truly am
Worthwhile to be
Your friend but

A good person
Never regrets the
Last time we talked

Friday, August 13, 2010

Millard Fillmore

Thirteenth president, Millard Fillmore,
Reigns undisputed as most obscure.
Of him and his legacy all know something
And that is all about Know Nothing.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

My Darling

I find myself enticed when I'm looking at you
Your curvy form
And beautiful shine
I hold you close to me and feel at home
Melodies sing
With us joined
I love to run my hands over your neck and body
A graceful show
Our wondrous harmony
I want to be with you always and forever
You sexy thing
My beloved guitar

Wednesday, August 11, 2010


shy, sheepish
listening, watching, hoping
young, naive, old, matured
acting, working, doing
strong, stalwart

Monday, August 9, 2010


Gaze upon your reflection
Look only at yourself
Dissatisfaction reigns
You aren't good enough

Hold thoughts of hate
Disdain for yourself
Imperfections galore
You aren't good enough

Think about people
All around in your life
Others so beautiful
You aren't good enough

Notice now the mirror
See it's bends and waves
Trickery dominates
It isn't good enough

Reconsider your view
Find a pure reflection
Pulchritude shows
You are good enough

Sunday, August 8, 2010


You are fallible
Expectations fail
When the wind changes
Prepare to adjust sail
Learn the great arts
Of go with the flow
And work only with
The things that you know
Be ever prepared
For circumstance's change
Before you're left
With no home on the range

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Hopeless, Worthless, Useless, Helpless

Hopeless to write
Hopeless to wrong
Hopeless to correct

Worthless to compose
Worthless to conduct
Worthless to organize

Useless to print
Useless to script
Useless to cursive

Helpless to author
Helpless to scribe
Helpless to poet

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

You Did the Right Thing

You did the right thing
But still hold regret
There you are brooding
Just down and upset

You know it was right
The only pure pick
Still that single night
Can make you feel sick

You were good so good
Stayed away from sin
You did as you should
And as such you win

You know it hurts now
But it's a long haul
Tell the moment ciao
Just keep standing tall


Always right there when I need to find you,
Always the perfect one whom I can talk to,
Always around when I've got some problem,
Always ready to be my family, my chum.

You have helped me see clearly in time of hurt,
You help me when I'm kneeling down in the dirt,
You see me in a way that's entirely uncommon,
You make me move along, do the job of a yeoman.

So I come to you, when I have no more hope,
So you can then make me no longer mope,
So I find a decent way to keep going,
So then I mature and always stay growing.

Always right there when I need to find you,
Always the perfect one whom I can talk to,
Always around when I've got some problem,
Always my grandfather, always post mortem.

Monday, August 2, 2010

You Didn't Ask

You didn't ask and you don't know.
Why did you assume the story was whole?
I wanted to say, to let it all go.
Telling you everything is always my goal.

Sometimes I just need some help from you.
Please realize when there are things left unsaid.
Coax the rest out, that's all you need to do.
Then you own the key to the thoughts in my head.


A friend is someone who
Will sit with you
Discuss Winnie the Pooh
Pass a tissue
Mess around with kung-fu
Share a bit of fondue

But a better friend will
See what in you is real
Take you at that point until
Out of their own freewill
Mountain is made out of molehill
They have no more goodwill
And the friendship then will spill

And then a wholly true friend
One who will stay to the end
On whom you so much depend
Sees your faults and each trend
Your failings then works to mend
They overlook the time you offend
Only good to you do they ever intend
That sort of person is a godsend
Hold on tight to a wholly true friend

Thursday, July 29, 2010

To Emily

I walk and see an ant
And suddenly think of you
Then grab for my phone
To send a text or two

Howdy-do greetings
And a colon close parens
Perhaps ensuing talk
Of Netherlandish hens

You say you've just read
From your favorite poet
And I question who it is
Though I already know it

Later you tell a tale
Of Chester Author, Ol' man
"Arthur" I point out
Then speak of West's Batman

Conversations with you, Emily
Always turn a bit weird
But always and forever
I hold them so revered

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


For years you were put down,
Cut back and hidden from all.
Now at last you come around,
Life without you I can't recall.

I'm so glad to have you,
Imperfections galore.
I'm invigorated, new,
Not quite who I had been before.

Awe you bring from children,
A teen and adult too.
With you I feel change begun,
A different self's grand debut.

You and I, here and now,
We seem just wonderful.
If I were to bid you ciao,
You'd come back, ever faithful.

I love you so much, friend,
Oh dear friend on my face.
It's a fond story to the end,
Let's take the world at blazing pace!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Sitting in the Back of a Lit Class

Sitting alone in the corner
With a notebook on my knee
Around I see a mild fervor
As I compose my poetry

A guitar sings to my right
And tunes of Back play in back
Bach's songs have great might,
While the guitar's might lack

In front, teacher tries to play
Some old DVD of Lit
Oh, it's playing now, hooray!
But still no one watches it

Now I try to finish this
But the teacher talks to me
Well this poem's a big miss
Lit class isn't the place to write poetry

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Rumors and Lies are Physical Violence

"Do you think that Joan is pregnant?"
Alton asked his old pal Steven.
Steven went on to tell a friend;
Didn't bother to get the records even.
Soon Jill told Gary,
Gary had told Claude.
Everyone around thought
Her belly was a bit broad.
Not before long, little Suzie
Went to the now infamous Joan
And congratulated the woman
On the soon-to-be baby of her own.
But Mrs. Joan was displeased
With what Little Suzie had said.
Joan just gained a little weight,
Not conceived of child in her bed.

And that, my dear mother,
Is why I'm not to blame
For the black eye on Suzie.
"My, your excuse is lame!"
And so his mother took him up
And placed him on her lap,
Face down of course,
For his ass to slap.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Ode to The Cardinal Gibbons School

We all expect our parents to die,
Friends to fade, love to pass.
Our school, a place we hold on high,
We think is always to last.

Four years I spent in that place,
Growing fond of my setting.
As I walked out, it was kicked in the face,
For another year it wasn't getting.

Anger, hate, hostility, bitterness,
All breaking out in the ranks.
Authority, faculty, students like us,
Alumni, moms, all with tanks.

The groups fought and bickered,
No two could ever quite agree.
Hope to some never flickered,
Though hope was never there to see.

In the end, most came together
As a great Crusader family.
For they were all held to the same tether.
Gibbons lives on in you and me.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Double Standard

Shame on you for what you have done.
Stop your dumb laughing, it wasn't fun.
I'm quite mad at you for doing this.
Our friendship I'm about to dismiss.

What? No she doesn't have to worry too.
What she did was hardly like with you.
Nothing was half as bad from her acts.
What you did from you quite detracts.

No, no, the things were not the same.
The work of you was great to defame.
All she did was a minor little mishap.
Now get out of here and cut your crap!

Friday, June 25, 2010

The Man in a Tie

There once was a man,
The Man in a Tie,
Who stood in the back
With his watchful eye.

Everything seemed good
Under his control,
Each coming problem
Hid from his patrol.

The Man in a Tie
Seemed almost regal.
He was just so good,
Quite phenomenal.

But it wasn't this man
Who was really in charge,
The man and his tie
Weren't really so large.

The Man with Flipflops
Was king of the court.
The Man in a Tie
Nothing of this sort.

Yet with shirt and tie,
The man still held rule.
Needed not title,
As Flipflop Fool.

It was the good work
From which he derived
Virtue and honor,
Both of which thrived.

The Man in a Tie
Had done really well.
But the day must come,
Where he says farewell.

After he has left,
Pick up all the slack.
Honorable work
Brings his mem'ry back.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


All is Silent and I am alone.
The Quiet consumes me.
Must find distraction... cell phone!
Thus to texting spree.

Seconds tick along but I can't wait.
There will be no reply.
Please, end the dead air I hate,
Loathing introspection is nigh.

Sound, I can summon Sound,
With guitar and voice.
This I couldn't do with others around.
This is a good choice.

Let My Love Open the Door, I sing,
With no one to hear.
Silence, give me all you can bring,
You I no longer fear!

My guitar and my voice are strong,
If a bit dissonant.
With just one little Townshend song,
Things aren't stagnant.

I've defeated you, Noiselessness,
You are no more.
Silence cannot bring me madness,
Music is my cure.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


If he is the one without a choice,
How have I controlled you with my voice?
Yes, I have commanded him what to do,
But he's just more likely to then argue.
When you're asked in just such a way,
You then have no other choice what to say.
His choice lies in an act of defiance,
With his "no" may come greater brilliance.
Your choice has not quite been there,
You assumed my question to you was ever fair.
Go ahead and think that you have the option,
You saying "no," now that is a truly absurd notion.

Monday, June 21, 2010


If there's but one thing
That you need to know,
It's just don't hold on
Let confidence go.

Confidence will kill
You, calm and so sure,
Take your fearlessness,
Throw it on the floor.

Murphy is the law
In Confidence Land,
Where all you are dealt
Is an awful hand.

But there is a way
To a decent chance.
Look at each problem
Before you advance.

Acknowledge you're weak,
Be modest and mild.
Always be ready
If things become wild.

Just don't turn cocky
In your modesty.
Keep your head down low,
You'll do swimmingly.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Fibers of Friendship

A single fiber is easy enough to break
Pull it apart with your bare hands
Not hard at all

Take some time, put in some effort
Twist together fibers and fibers
Make yourself a thread

The thread is a bit stronger than before
But still possible to break in your hands
Perhaps it'll unravel

But take some threads and some more time
Intertwine them, make them more
For now you have a string

Now the string is harder to break
Though with tension and a karate chop
It would fall apart

With more work, more time, more finesse
The string can be built upon
To make a hefty rope

Rope is strong, so strong, but can be more
Tie it in an immortal knot
And it will be the best it can be

But still it can break
With a simple little slash
From a sword

Monday, June 14, 2010


I've built so many walls
Circling around me
Installed a bear who mauls
Anyone coming
The rain above still falls
On me, all alone
Lone with all the nightfalls
The darkness around

Yet you came right in
Without any pratfalls
Found some way to me
Walking as if through halls
Beating my defenses
How still to me appalls

You sidestepped pitfalls
Avoided security brawls
Dodged occasional fireballs
Were unphased by narwals
Flying, at that, memory recalls

Spitball forestalls goofball dolls
But you are inside my walls

My only ally forever enthralls

Tuesday, June 8, 2010


I'm moving along
Thousands of fathoms under the sea
I can't begin to fathom
How anyone could fathom down to me

Saturday, June 5, 2010


Woke up in a strange place
Looked around to place the place
In its place in the universe
A ship it was, I so deduced
A ship unfamiliar to me
A ship, flying ship
with no one on it to see
I panicked, stayed calm
Ran slowly with care
Found the control room
Got my bearings
On what exactly was there
At least I think
I thought
Or so I thunk
A few controls were easy
But they were hardest of all
I managed to move forward
If forward is forward at all
Just as I'm getting a bit better
At getting the ship to just go
I'm hijacked, forced off
To a new ship I must go
New ship
New controls
New forward
New journey?
Yes, with more ways to die.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Look Behind You

What's that you're about to do?
You couldn't! There's no way!
...Would you?

Don't you realize that I'm watching?
Each move. Every word.
I'm seeing.

Why don't you watch what you say?
Guard things. Be good.
...Not today.

Perhaps it's better for me like this?
I see it all. Really you.
Not just bliss.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


Great antagonists, logic and trust
The latter, in friendship, a must
But will you let go of logic?
Should you let go of it?

I can't help it, sometimes trust fails.
I see something; the strings of logic it entails.
But what when the logic is wrong?
Did you mess up everything now?

One false string of inference ties you
To information making a friendship snafu
But how can you fix it?
Can you admit the wrong?

And what about the times when
Trust fails you again?
Isn't it sometimes better
To trust logic over friend?
Maybe that's what helps
Them in the end.

Great dilemma, logic or trust.
Pick carefully, each time. You must.

Monday, May 17, 2010

To a Friend

We had some good times, some bad.
Of all the times, happy and so sad,
I wouldn't take one back anymore
Because now is now always, therefore
I take the good here, help it grow
Try to forget about... well, you know
What we've got now is grand
Just live it, never bland
Keep moving on, moving to better
All we've done is drop the fetter

No More Black

The world doesn't need me
I'm worthless in it all
Used to be without me
The world would just fall

Evil isn't afoot any longer
Nor a hand, eye, or left nut
My cape is on my back
And I still can fly but

The world doesn't care
They don't need my type
Just can't live up to the hype

How am I supposed to live
Without work to do?
Evil Armenia Man
Where the hell are you?

I'm trying to move on
But I have lost my goals
It feels as though my heart
Is just so full of holes

What I can do now
Without superheroing?
I don't know how to file papers,
Pave driveways, or make a bed spring.

I need you evil,
Your darkness and black.
Only with you
Can Romania Man come back.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Presidents

Washington was the man of founding the nation
Adams was the man of general dislike
Jefferson was the man of moderation
Madison was the man the British didn't really like

Monroe told Europe to stay away
But John Quincy Adams was the real mind for that
Jackson survived assassination one day
Van Buren's Boys assaulted Cosmo Kramer (It's a fact!)

Harrison barely survived a month
Tyler is permanent president, Congree agrees
Polk was a strong president and oh crap nothing rhymes with month
Taylor died of from cold milk and cherries

Fillmore had the Compromise of 1850
Pierce pierced 'em in '52
Buchanan and William King were flirty
Lincoln won the Civil War, WOOHOO!

Johnson sucked some major ass reconstructing
Grant sucked some major ass too
Hayes' election sucked some major ass
Garfield wasn't bad 'till he died

Arthur reformed the civil service
Cleveland for his bastard son took flak
Harrison came a century after Washington's greatness
Cleveland found his way back

McKinley brought power to the president
Roosevelt had some sort of big stick
Taft needed a new tub to be a White House resident
Wilsonian idealism makes me sick

Harding's big accomplishment was nothing
Coolidge worked with that nothing as well
Hoover saw the great crash of everything
Roosevelt made ol' Hitler say farewell

Truman's loved by the historical revisionist
Eisenhower was lazy in a way
Kennedy seems to be quite earnest
Johnson's damned by 'Nam to this day

Nixon broke the law with Watergate
Ford bailed Nixon out of his crimes 
Carter bailed Chrysler with government money
Reagan... I can't remember what I was going to say

Bush the elder kicked Saddam Hussein's ass
Clinton liked Monica Lewinsky's
Bush the younger left no child behind
Obama's wife fights big tushy child obesity

That's all the presidents we've had
One up through fourty-four
Unless we get blowed up by Kim Jong Ill
We're set for many more

Saturday, May 15, 2010

The Deadly Mistake

I know I'll win
He's a chump
I'll get out
Without a bump

Throw a punch here
A kick there
His attack misses
All but hair

I've got it won
He's just lost
His white towel
Shoulda been tossed

I celebrate
With just me
The fight's over
Just not for he

He pulls out
A pocketknife
His tool which
Ends my life

The deadly mistake
Assuming I'd win
My greatest sin

Thursday, May 13, 2010

28 minutes (and 18 months)

I had
The dagger.
It was
In your hand
So long.
It never moved,
Just stared at
My heart.
I didn't think
It would ever
Stab me.
But it did,
It did, it did,
It did.
I am cold,
So cold.
Chekov knew
The dagger would
Metal in
My heart.
I'm cold,
I'm cold.
It can't
Be true,
Can it?
It can't
Be through,
Can it?

I'll die.

Death, yes
That's it,
Die now.
Death is
The way
I won't
be cold,

And scream
At you.
My dearest,
My killer,
I hate you.

I'm still
In fact,
I might be
More alive.
The dagger,
The blade;
It's fake.
Never really
A threat
To me.
A trick,
A gag,
I'm okay.
I'm fine!
28 minutes
In hell,
And I'm fine!

The dagger
Is gone
I have
To fear.
Where to go
From here?

18 minutes

2:56, I'm not feeling too great.
Honestly, life just sucks.
I hate the way I live and walk and talk.
Events wait to shoot me like hockey pucks.

The phone in my pocket starts to ring.
Sigh, I think, dreading the call,
Pick it up, say hello, watch it be awkward.
(It turned out awkward after all.)

Some things were said that brought me down.
I tried, oh I tried to be good.
As things happened to turn out,
Be good I could.

The other end was no happier, no more free,
But at least mildly comforted and logical with me.

As we said goodbye, my life had been changed.
3:14 my angst had rearranged.
No longer were my choices and situation bad,
In fact, of my decisions I am rather glad.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Door

It's rather cold here
Standing in the rain
There's thunder, lightning
Annoyance, and pain

Wetter and wetter
Shivering in fear
I'm not having much fun
Just being out here

There is a way out
I see a door there
What is behind it
For I'm unaware

So many things good
Could hide just inside
Feelings of joy, glee
Happiness, and pride

I could have a ball
A jolly good time
Taking me, nothing
It may me sublime

But what if that's wrong
The other side sucks
Torment forever
My face in buttocks

The door taking me
To eternal crap
Never grin again
Always in a trap

I can't make a choice
Staying here or not
The door is tempting
But I've done all naught

Option one, hurt here
Option two, gamble
I can't chance the door
Stay here, stay loyal

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Propensity of the Heart

Hi, hello there, how are you?
I'm so glad to meet again,
I hope you are too.

Such a surprise, is this real?
I'm overtaken by it,
By just how I feel.

Odd, unusual, maybe weird?
That someone like you, by me
Would be so endeared.

Sunday, May 9, 2010


It feels so good
I never want to stop.
I keep coming
For more, else I'll pop.

But I do know
It is rather bad.
That doesn't cease
Addiction I've had.

Friday, May 7, 2010


Time, to all wounds, is healer
They all think as one.
They're wrong, of course, for
Time is a demon.

It hides behind fabric,
A world we cannot see.
The curtain hides it,
We go obliviously.

Growing older and older,
Time gets its man.
It can afford to wait
Longer than you can.

It pulls you away here,
Rips you away from there.
Draws you from happiness
Into deep dark despair.

Your wounds it doesn't
Much care to heal.
But salting them up
It finds great appeal.

Time is not on your side.
Each step it takes, each stride
Is against you.
Your friends too.

Soon you're done.

Time has won.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

The Red Shirt

Look at that, over there.
Do you see that man's shirt?
What about that shirt?
Can't you tell about it, oh! and his hair?

Why, they're both red, my friend!
It's so plainly easy to see.
Just think: explain the shirt to me
Except I'm blind from life's start to end!

How could you describe that color
To a blind person, do you think?
Red is a foreign concept, as a Martian's stink.
I'm glad I'm not blind, to know red, chartruse, azure.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010


The things you do,
Things you say
Don't quite match up,
Aren't okay.
You cause some crap
The sole hitch
Keeping me down
Is the fact that I can't bring myself to complete this line.

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Pain

Bam! He falls to the ground, writhing in pain.
Things were so bad he was driven insane.
The impact was hard, and the fall unbroken.
He screamed out, for words couldn't be spoken.

It hurt so bad he just wanted it to end.
All he had was an onlooking friend.
She didn't know what to do to fix his plight.
All she could do was stare at his fight.

The pain grew worse, he shouted out loud.
The horrible sounds drew in a crowd.
They each put a hand for comfort on the poor lad.
He put on his strongest face, but things were bad.

His friend took action and gave him a hug.
All he could do was internally say ugh.
It didn't help at all, but he had to be good.
The pain drove harder; he was strong as he could.

He walked himself home, unharmed they all thought.
But alone he screamed and shouted, where he wasn't caught.
His time alone became his time of greatest outward pain.
His time with others he hid the hurt and became insane.

Thought Plunger

Ever try to say something
And find a jam in your throat?
It lets out plenty of words
But a choice few it won't.

Don't you just hate
When you can't let it all out?
There's plenty you've said,
Only one you didn't talk about.

Isn't it hard
To deal with the clog?
Maybe it can clear up
On your poetry blog.

Monday, April 26, 2010

The Apple

Look at the apple, shiny and red.
Great looking on the outside
But inside it's rotten and dead.

You don't know what's on the inside
Because you haven't looked
At what the shiny skin can hide.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Shrinking Room

I had seen the walls closing in on me
But the ceiling has suddenly dropped too.
I knew the end was coming shortly
But this end is something new.

It isn't so much the fact I'll be gone
It really must be okay on the other side.
I'm just scared of how I'll see a new dawn
And how I lose all of my pride.

The ceiling is moving so quickly now
It's pushing down on my back.
The weight brings sweat to my brow
And my vision turns black.

Don't let go.
I'm not ready.
Don't let go.
It can't be time yet.

The floor pushes up on my feet
The force is too much to bear for long.
My body wants to admit defeat
But I can't yet; it's wrong.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Gatsby and Standin 2

Agents Gatsby and Standin hadn't done much,
Just go to Super Fresh for groceries and such.
They knew they were in an excitement slump,
But weren't sure how to get out... unless they jump!

So they looked to the window of the room
And towards that same window did they zoom.
Out they crashed with reckless abandon,
When Gatsby turned and said to Standin,

"Do you realize what we've just done?
We may as well shot ourselves with a gun.
We freaking jumped out of the 31st floor.
We're about to die, need I say more?"

Standin looked to his friend in surprise,
Studying the fear in Gatsby's eyes.
Wasn't he a man of science and fancy,
Who could save their lives and do a little dance-y?

Gatsby soon realized their only chance,
"Standin, use your voice! Perchance
Its greatness will save our butts!
Then maybe we'll go for sherbets?"

And so as the 10th floor went by
Standin shouted out, with a great cry,
"Hey world, listen to my voice!
Also, I enjoy reading James Joyce!"

I still don't quite understand this part.
Gatsby and Standin were saved by a shopping cart.
It flew in from the east and caught them mid-fall,
But to the pair of friends, it wasn't exciting at all.

"Gatsby, we're still in an excitement slump!
I thought the only way out, you said, was jump!"
"Standin, amigo, you can't yet doubt me.
That was just insufficient velocity."

So Gatsby went on with sciency science stuff
To give the next jump's speed a great buff.
And soon they jumped from the Statue of Liberty,
Having fun again, ignoring the rules of safety.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Quantum Feelings

Superposition says
Something can be in two places at the same time.
My heart responds,
"Even jolly and distraught, great and less than prime."

Use your quantum mechanics on my heart.
You can see all the classical models,
When you just tear things apart.

Collapse says
One classical model will eventually arise.
My heart responds,
"Which model will it be then, do you surmise?"

Will the result come out to happy or hurt?
I hope to be glad in my heart,
But now it has no comfort.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

To High School Students of the Future

I know, I know
You don't want to read this.
Yes, you're right
The teacher's over-analyzing.

Try to focus,
Put in some real effort.
You may find
Some poetry is really good.

Can it speak to you?
Sure it can!
Can it help you out?
Of course!

Maybe it seems
A waste of your time.
Maybe you care
Not about Keats' rhyme.

But think.

These short lines
Can contain
Worlds of meaning.

These short lines
Can contain
Life changing words.

These short lines
Can contain
Solution to your problem.

I know, I know,
You don't care who I am.
You probably shouldn't.

The author matters not.
Only poem, and the words in 't.

Monday, April 5, 2010

The Void

There's something missing
Something inside me
Just isn't there

What could it be?

I feel unfulfilled
With a gap
In my heart

How can I fill it?

I want to enjoy life
Or maybe distract
From this hollow

Where can I hide?

It is always with me
Inside of me
Expanding out

Why is it there?

I don't know the cause
Nor the cure
Just the hurt

When will it stop?

It disappears for a moment
And then returns

Who can help me?

Saturday, April 3, 2010


Man, I'm just so BORED
No motivation at all
General annoyance is assured
Because I'm not having a ball

I can't get past this boredom
There's just nothing to do
Everything around seems dumb
I want something fun or new

All I've got is written word
And I've done that plenty before
But this poem seems absurd
Though to do, there's nothing more

It's depressing me a bit
Now I'll get into a self-hating fit
And that's never fun

What'll I do
But plan a self-coup?
Aah, I'm attacking, have to run!

Do you really know?

Do you really know
The way I feel?
Your great appeal
To me?
Do you really know
What you mean?
How I'm so keen
For you?
Do you really know
Your immense power?
Or your high stature
To me?
Do you really know
How much I need you?
I live, it's true,
For you.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Guitar's Journey

I'm out of tune
A boy's picked me up
I'll be tuned soon
Good ol' tuneup

He begins to play
He's quite adept
This boy named Jay
Is far from inept

The next guy
To strum my strings
Decides to try
To teach some things

Will shows Arthur
A little song
Will played pure
Arthur just sucked

Thursday, March 25, 2010

On the Haiku

As I consider the haiku
I find little of worth.
Writing one needs no IQ--
Can be done by any on Earth.
There's no deep ideas,
Nothing of great thought.
Don't worry about speeches,
For syllables you have naught.
Seventeen sounds are joined
In three quite short lines.
Short sayings may be coined
As you describe old pines.
People will likely remember
"Haikus are easy
But they don't always make sense
Haikus, you win the moment,
But true poetry is patient.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Life isn't Fair

We said the answer was "dot."
They said the answer was not.
So they tell us the proper
Answer, and cause quite a clamor
For the actual answer was "dot."

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

On Love, Calculus, and School Closings

I just can't quite understand it.
It just doesn't make sense to me.
I am just a little nitwit.

I love so much but still I quit.
Love chains my life, not sets me free.
I just can't quite understand it.

Pencil in hand, my mind is split.
Oh Calculus, please let me be.
I am just a little nitwit.

Big man says that my school ain't fit.
Those are the lies he chose to decree.
I just can't quite understand it.

Life just seems so unfair, I admit.
I'll never be shining with glee.
I am just a little nitwit.

I'm near shouting that I'm unfit.
Things won't soon be clear, we won't see.
I just can't quite understand it.
I am just a little nitwit.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Poetry for the Sake of Poetry

I kinda miss the
Awesome haiku poem form
So here's a quick one

Saturday, March 13, 2010


I can't believe it,
The way things sway.
Find myself in a pit,
Then cloud nine in a day.

My moon wanes,
A new moon waxes.
The new moon causes pains,
The old again flounces.

I reach new heights,
To fall to new lows.
I see brightest lights,
Find only shadows.

Where is the dock
I can tie on?
I have no rock
To lean upon.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Little Things

Big things
May have an effect
But it's the
Little things
That really count
In life
We must
Each gift
Each blessing
Each joy
No matter
How small
And we learn
Just how
To be happy

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

9:50 AM

I just finished a test.
I can't say it's my best.
I'm sure I did just fine,
I'm alright most of the time.
A period ago I taught
About political battles fought
After the War Between the States
And my teaching was first-rate.
The rest of the day
This life will stay
Through whatever it brings
To classes 'til the bell rings.
My day is going pretty swell,
May yours be peachy keen as well.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

My Life

Sometimes I'll think about my life
And I'll realize that things are just
Kinda sorta maybe a bit alright.
Maybe I see a tad amount of strife,
But I realize it's not the horriblest,
As things could be a lot more sad.
At least I'm not part of a cockfight,
Or an ancient king's 400th wife,
Or worst, a beacon of distrust.
At least I have a few things right,
Educmacation's going quite swell,
And I've got a real friend.
The latter I hope to never repel,
To make me good until the end.

Monday, March 8, 2010

I Could Take You

Don't get too cocky now,
You're far outclassed.
Let me say just how
I would kick your ass.

I'm far quicker than you,
I'll move in out and out.
Was that a fist or a shoe
that just hit your mouth?

I've also got a bit of height,
Such a short little person
Could never defeat me in a fight.
Tall vs. short fighting action!

I assume my brawn
Is also superior.
Like Donkey Kong it's on
And I'll kick your posterior!

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Who matters?

How many people matter in the end?
Me, first off. Of course, my best friend.
But who else really matters in life?
Couldn't anyone else take a knife?

But when I consider it, there's more.
Each person has something in store
To affect my life in their way.
I must see this every day.

But it's hard indeed to think like that.
"Caring isn't something towards more than a cat"
Is my thought process more often that not.
Most people I could let go and rot.

But should that be my philosophy?
It has worked alright for me.
Why change what works?
The rest of you can suck it.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Debates of 2044

In the presidential debates of twenty forty-four,
A man moderated, who went by the name John Bonjour.
A question he posted about each candidates' stance
Was, "Sirs, what is your exact stance on dance?"

New Whig Party candidate "Pragmatic Milly" said,
"I quite like to spin around on my head,
Dancing old school, like those 'hoodlums'
From the days of overemphasized backing drums."

Stalwart Candidate, and heir to the Morton Salt throne,
Had hidden his dancing views so well that no one had known
If this could be the question to ruin his chances
All over the kind of style of dance he dances.

"I like to hold my wife close oh so very close to me
And swing back and forth ever so slowly.
But what's this have to do with the crisis of oil?
Don't you, John, worry about our nation's toil?"

The moderator responded to him with a smile,
"Levi, oh Levi, think for a little while.
Don't you think that dance cheers up the nation?
It's almost as soothing as bogus divination!"

The Stalwart proceeded to shout that he wanted issues,
To which the only response was, "If you cry, get tissues."
Then Morton stormed off, booming steps across the stage.
He threw away an election in his little fit of rage.

The Democratic candidate looked on in awe,
As he just couldn't believe what he had saw.
He wanted to storm off just like ol' Firecracker Levi,
But he was paralyzed except for his mouth and left eye.

He couldn't respond to the moderator's question for the room was too loud.
And then each and every person in the audience, those shouting in the crowd
Turned into an angry mob, just weeks before they would be voting
And both the Democrat and Whig were killed, it's quite worth noting.

The Stalwart had gotten out just in the nick of time,
A question of dance had saved his own hind.
But he still lost the election to a political wader,
And finally the big one went to Independent Ralph Nader.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Time is a Funny Thing

Friday evening I left home
For a place I hadn't known
The night was long
The sleep was short

Saturday was fun as ever
The moments lasted forever
The day was long
The boredom was short

Sunday morning came soon
And I left for home before noon
The ride was long
Time till school is short!

Friday, February 26, 2010

Happiness and a Snow Delay

I had a pretty good night yesterday,
And no, not quite in that way.
But I went to sleep with a smile
And slept the best I have in a while.

Then I awoke and looked at the clock,
It was past 7. Oh, poppycock!
I'll be late for school, I thought.
And I was right... Not!

It snowed!
It snowed!

There was a late opening for school.
That's coincidentially pretty cool.
I held residual happy from the night before
And I woke up to lots and lots more.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Hmmm... Get the message?

Have you ever tried to give
A message to someone
In semi-public view
And trust that they
Understand what you say?

Sometimes I don't want to live
When a certain one
Doesn't have a clue
And I hope she may
Only understand it someday.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I Can't Write Free Verse

I may try and try to just write some
Free verse poetry
But the lines always decide to group up into stanzas of four
With a rhyme scheme
Or sometimes
But I don't mean the band there
I definitely mean like lines one and four rhyme and lines two and three rhyme
Oh and there's the good old
Where it's just like
Why aren't these just couplets
I mean they're rhyming that way may as well just make them into two separate stanzas
Except no, that's not right, because maybe sometimes the thought flows through those four lines better than two sets of two
And hey look at what I'm doing
I just wrote
Free verse poetry
And you know what
It really wasn't worth it

Sunday, February 21, 2010

The Night Before School

Oh how I dread the alarm
Set for the morn's 6:43.
Would it really do much harm
To start an hour later for me?

Get up, quick shave, put on a shirt and tie,
To look presentable to Discipline Man.
Hop in the car, up Route 1 we fly,
Getting to band as soon as we can.

Then the classes of the day begin,
Some fun, but most not.
That Calculus class is fun as anythin',
Social Justice can go rot.

I can't wait for the day to just end,
But eh, at least I can see each friend.

But no, I really want to finish the day and it hasn't even started yet.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I Was Eating an Orange...

I was eating an orange
On my trip to Blorenge.
What? You say I made up the word?
It's a hill in Wales, not just absurd!

Well on my way, my face turned purple,
As I ran into a giant curple.
That means the ass of a horse!
An ass's ass is called that too, of course!

I reached the hill at the end of the month,
Finishing an orange, my hundred-and-oneth.
You know that one's kinda a word, maybe obsolete,
But you know damn well it made my rhyme complete.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Play Becomes Work

You know, doing this used to be so easy.
But since then, my rhymes are more cheesy,
The poetry doesn't flow out as well,
I have to work so hard, as a talentless shell.

Yes, I realize now I have no knack
For writing poetry to put in my sack.
Instead, I must use brute force
To set the words on the right course.

What if the words rebel, you ask me?
Why the words are already free, you see.
They seem to come and go as they please,
All I do is hope for a reprise

Of past good work, as I force my lines,
Which occasionally work... Sometimes.
Here and there a poem is still good.
Here's hoping for another. Knock on wood.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010


On a site with URL formspring.me/chetfan21
I answer the questions of anonymous persons.
Some of the questions are moderately fun,
While others deserve to be mauled by lions.

So go ahead and ask me your question,
I won't mind at all.
Just be careful of what you mention,
My lions are on call.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

To My Number One Fan

You read all of my work.
Praise and praise come from you,
Unlike each non-reader jerk.
I enjoy your view.

I'm glad to have you read,
And hope to write my best.
Then my poetry will fill your need,
And you never read the rest.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Don't ask, don't tell.
This rule, I know well.

That's why you won't know
Which of the two ways I go.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


I find myself to be
How do you look at me?
In a couplet:

Far more highly than I deserve.
My life, you always preserve.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Who is this all for?

Am I writing for myself?
Is it important to be read?
I'm not just leaving on a shelf
The goings on of my head.

Do I want it read by you?
Does it matter if there's anyone?
Would you think it's true
If I made an autobiographical one?

This can't be just for me.
My emotions want out.
Yes, I want you all to see.
Anyless would make me shout.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Chester Arthur

Chester Arthur, son of the preacher.
Son, God is your teacher.
Slavery is wrong and must end.
We must fight its growing trend.

Chester Arthur, young Whig.
Who would have thought you'd be so big?
Fight the dissenters in a brawl,
But what difference does it make at the end of it all?

Chester Arthur, young lawyer.
Elizabeth Jennings had wrongs against her.
A black woman on the public trolley?
Fight for her rights, end this folly.

Chester Arthur, Brigadier General.
Organizing New York for the Army Federal.
The Union must fight the rebel uprising,
And your hard work and command is surprising.

Chester Arthur, Conkling machine cog.
You're on Roscoe's leash like a dog.
Work at the Port of New York as Collector.
Don't fight the system in your current life chapter.

Chester Arthur, Vice President.
Working against the White House resident.
Garfield was shot and killed though.
It seems Conkling owns the Executive, although...

Chester Arthur, US President.
Make Roscoe Conkling no more than a peasant.
The Pendleton Civil Service Act is passed,
And you kicked the spoils systems' ass!

Chester Arthur, who now?
Fade into obscurity, you may not bow.
No one knows you anymore.
You're stuck with Millard Fillmore.

Saturday, January 30, 2010


I'm waiting for the moment
Which I promised to you
But that moment isn't until tomorrow
And it seems so far away.
I would bring it early
But you were promised
Before it came.
That time passes so slowly for me
How does it feel to you?

Thursday, January 28, 2010


Life has its ups and downs.
Happy, sad, smiles, frowns.

We push onward through deepest pain.
But what's it matter? It's all the same.

The pain leaves for a minute.
But not if it returns, when it

Comes back you're up a creek,
Because the cure you again seek.

But the pain always wins.
Creeps in by your sins,

Or maybe by your friends,
Or by family's measley ends.

So why should we fight the pain
If we cannot break its chain?

It's difficult to go ahead and choose
Fighting pain, when you'll always lose.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010


They tell me I'm a nerd,
A worthless loser, a geek.
These hurtful titles I've heard
Are not the words I seek.

And so I decide to break
From the white smart teen
Stereotype. For my sake,
These things I will not seem.

So I get my grape drank,
Fried chicken, and watermelon too.
I won't give you a penny, to be frank.
Now I'm a black Jew.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Stronger Will

In a clash of two wills,
The stronger always wins.
But what happens when
Both wills are from within?

One side of me wants
To beg on my knees.
The other side says
To acknowledge your needs.

It hurts so bad
To sit back and wait.
But what else?
Could I tempt fate?

You'll come around
One day or another.
That thought makes
One will beat its brother.

Monday, January 25, 2010


How would you like it?
What if I hid something?
Is it time for me to quit?
Time for the right thing?

They say honesty is the best policy,
But is it the best policy with you?
My studies of the American polity
Aren't half as complex as what's true.

Sometimes I feel confident,
But you make me small.
I'm thankful for my confidant,
Else no one would know at all.

Maybe tomorrow you'll know
The truth beneath everything.
As time continues to go,
I hold onto this ring.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

I wish I were Ralph Waldo Emerson

If only I were famous
This poem would be good

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Haikus are the best

Haikus are the best
When you need a quick poem
It's just a minute

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Gatsby and Standin

Agents Gatsby and Standin were great friends together.
So great, in fact, they learned to change the weather.
Though that was mostly Gatsby, and his skills in science.
And it had the side effect of making Standin live in silence.

This was a horrible thing; Standin had a great voice.
So great in fact, the world would hear it and rejoice.
Gatsby had to get it back for his friend.
Let me make this clear, NOT his boyfriend.

He used his less science-ish knowledge of history
To try and find a solution to this great voice mystery.
His best solution was to revive Andrew Jackson,
A great president and a greater man of action.

It wasn't military expertise that would help Standin.
It was the sciency phlebotinum made by John Brandon.
The phlebotinum was in the depths below the Washington Monument,
Dedicated by Chester Arthur. But back to the present...

Jackson led a brigade, with Standin and Gatsby at his side.
Each of the three had a rocket-powered rocking horse to ride.
They took over the United States' capital city,
But assured Obama they weren't too sketchy.

Gatsby found the tools he needed,
So he took them and then pleaded
The president to pardon their crimes.
He promised in return some sick rhymes.

Obama nodded slowly, with the pistol to his head,
For if he hadn't agreed, his ass would be dead.
So Gatsby left dramatically, with science in his mind,
Contemplating briefly if for this he should be enshrined.

Meanwhile, Standin rekilled the seventh president.
Again he became a national underground resident.
Gatsby met with Standin and restored his voice.
Standin opened his mouth and the world did rejoice.

Standin's voice was unequaled on Earth.
Even better than an Australian's from Perth.
It had to be saved, for the greater good.
You'd have done it too, or at least you should.

Writing for Fame

I'm playing the game
Writing for fame
Emotion and theme
Are eating ice cream
Crying to themselves
For they know very well
They have no place
In my rich estate
I'm in it for money
I want the honeys
I'm playing the game
Writing for fame

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

I Feel Fantastic

I look around, before I go to bed.
I think thoughts flowing through my head.
My life is pretty good.
I feel just as I should.

I feel fantastic.
Everything comes together so perfectly
As though my life is all in great harmony.

No tragedies are drastic.
I have no reason to dwell in pain.
I haven't sunk like the USS Maine.

I just feel fantastic.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Where are you? I'm so lonely.

I was lonely for so long, laying here.
Then you came along after many a year.
My birthday each time, you did celebrate.
Flowers and cognac, your gift is great.

But I counted the days in anticipation.
And this year, you missed the celebration.
Have I lost you, my friend?
Am I again alone until the end?

Is turning 201 just too old for you?
That would be shallow, and cold too.
I'm Edgar Allan Poe, please don't leave me.
Then again, I've always been in agony.


You gave me a shoulder when I needed to cry
You gave me kind words when I wanted to die
You gave me a hug when I was so far down
You gave me a reason to turn the frown upside down

You were the force that kept me on my feet
You were perpetually perfectly sweet
You were always there in my time of need
You were never expecting it when I mutinied

I got better and moved along
I left you behind as I sang a new song
I was gone when the tables had turned
I didn't help when you yourself were burned

I didn't need you anymore
But walk into my door
I'll welcome you as before
I now realize, you're my amor

Monday, January 18, 2010

Haikus are dumb

Who can get a thought
Completely out in a mere
Seventeen sylla---

3 in the Morning

We've typed to each other halfway through the night.
Fighting off sleep any longer for you doesn't seem right.
But it's addicting, reading each word you spell.
Oh dear, some of what you put will make me go to hell.

The grandfather clock sounds its old bells.
One, two, three o'clock is the time it tells.
I see each letter, a character of one byte.
You and I, we can make it 'til the Sun's alight.

Your words ensnare me
As I slowly close my eyes
I lay my head down

But no, I musn't fall asleep, not right now.
I'll make it through the night, with you. Somehow.
I type my reply, a short, quick, "lmao."
I look at it send, but little did I know

You weren't being sarcastic, I was just slow.
You poured out your soul and I let it go.
I see my chances with you take their final bow.
They fade into the Internet, but I refuse to say ciao.

I send you a text
I send you an email, too
I must make contact

We had such chemistry going together, my dear.
I simply cannot let this minor nadir
Prevent a new zenith where we are together.
We could talk with each other, no matter the weather.

Between our fates, don't you too see the tether?
You and your computer make me feel light as a feather.
The rules of the universe to which we must adhere,
They say you need to come back to me, I'm quite sincere.

You will be back soon
Of this I'm so very sure
I will be online

Saturday, January 16, 2010


I'm sitting alone
Next to my phone.
I put it on vibrate
And I wait
For a text from you
Because I need to.
Time seems forever.
Give up? Never.
Just a minute.
You'll get it.
You'll reply,
I'll sigh
In relief.
But good grief!
It's been hours.
They become days.

I can't believe you haven't texted back.
It's been a week.
Maybe I'll try to again establish contact.
But I'm not a creep.

I must try.
Else, I'll cry.
Just a quick text.
What next?

I wait again.

Romania Man

Romania Man
You're a horrible hero
But I love you still

Friday, January 15, 2010


If I were to write a poem,
I would not hold myself to silly rules.
End rhyme, diction, rhythm,
Along with all the other linguistic tools

Would have no place in my writing.
Imagery as well, would have to go.
I'd cast it out like weeds,
To let the true thoughts and emotion grow.

In fact, I may forsake
The Great and Almighty Line.
Such a thing
Could never help to enshrine

My name, my ideas,
My works of art in history.
Instead my orthodoxy
Would have me become a mystery.

If I were to write a poem,
My verse and I would be free.
My innovation would make me the best.
Most surely.