I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Is there fear in your excitement

like a newly unearthed coffin

You can see it from a distance

like a nearsighted eye witness

It comes creeping through the window

you left open while you sleep

Like an unsuspecting victim

you roll over just to see

There’s a shadow in the doorway

sending shivers down your spine

Like a child on a big wheel

cup your hands over your eyes

When you finally build the courage

to admit you’ve lost your mind

There’s just air and heavy breathing

feels like you’ve got the shine

Now you’re choked up glass of water

who left on the kitchen light

And you swear there’s no one listening

still you check the corner twice

Cause it’s somewhere between 3 and 4

the hour’s devil’s prime

It’s the fear in your excitement

in the background of your mind

Monday morning tired pouring

rain falls cold upon your head

It’s a new day maybe Tuesday

I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Wednesday Thursday afternoon

blurs into Friday I’m still wet

From the tears of Saturday’s gone by

Sunday’s a day of rest?

So don’t fight it just accept it

that to fall asleep is hard

When your dreams feel like the raven

and your mind a tell-tale heart

There’s a shrill cry in the alley

that you wish now to explore

It just proves that other’s trauma

spreads itself like works of art.

The saint in me is still a sinners son

I look at then

and I see me now

There’s people chanting

standing in a crowd

I wanna join in

try to help them out

But my mouth’s cashed checks

that just seem to bounce

Who be it that you try to believe

Who always turns into a parody

Now brush your teeth and try to behave

They’re all gonna hate you eventually

I look at then

but still see myself

Eyes wide shut

full of fear and doubt

She plucked the fruit

from the apple tree

As I stood staring

still I couldn’t believe

Who be it that you try to become

The saint in me is still a sinners son

Who be it that you try to believe

Now you’re all dressed up living a fantasy

I look at now

like she saw me then

All fed up

fist balled paper and pen

There’s dishes broken

on the kitchen floor

The serpent speaks

in tongues I can’t ignore

Who be it that you thought you saw in me

A break fix and used return policy

Who be it that I thought I saw in you

But what difference does it make there’s an election soon

poetry is spam

A large portion of

poetry is spam.

But I don’t eat that stuff,

at least not until I get to see Hawaii

then who knows?

I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.

When in Rome, you know;

when in Rome.

the Devil’s Crossroads

Beware the desperate man

though he longs for love

keep in mind he only needs

a friend. And understand

the desperate woman

though pain in her virtue

there’s much strength

in her hand. So when at

the Devil’s Crossroads

wind whipped bodies bare

man and woman tremble

with nothing left to fear.

lovely pearls.

If you could put

everyone’s depression

in an ivory locked jewelry box

and free the world of self hate

anxiety, fear, despondency

there would no doubt be

someone hidden in daylights shadow

waiting, aching, yearning

and ready

to try on those lovely pearls.

— INSERT EXCUSE HERE —

So quite literally if you say

what is going to be my excuse today?

— INSERT EXCUSE HERE —

Now don’t do that.

Do everything but that.

Do every other thing

you’d rather be doing.

What do you got to lose?

The job you hate.

The credit you pay.

The fear you make.

It’ll all be there tomorrow.

So excuse yourself today

and see what happens.

Our Mind’s Eye

We mustn’t shy away from fear

but rather dive face first

into it’s claws letting it tear our flesh

from cheek to chin and gnaw

on our skulls if not only to

release ourselves from our mind

whose eye is so often filled with fear.