The Craft

Tears well
followed by
a deep breath,
sadness
is a fine art,
and I’m still
after all these years
developing the craft.

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Happiness & Love

Happiness
& Love
killed
the poem.
As
for
the poet,
he lived
mourned his loss
then learned to love again.

Try

Most days
all we can do
is try,
try without motive
without reason
but with trust
in ourselves
that tomorrow
is another day
to try.

Commute

Purple sky.
Blinking lights and a deep sigh.
Cars pass by.

Pudding

The
proof
is
in
the
pudding,
but
I
don’t
eat
pudding.
So,
shit.

No need for a title

I’m not sick
but I am tired
trying to grip
anything
that will hold,
because
it’s been some time
since I’ve been inspired
and life has a way
of taking its toll.

The difference between women, men, and scars.

Scars heal.
Women don’t.
Women remember everything.
Every failed step.
Every spoken word, every mistake.

But women forget sometimes,
that men too
are unlike scars.

Men don’t heal either.
Men remember everything.
Every time, every opportunity.
And every failed step.

Then there are scars.
The untimely breakup,
which neither swears
they ever saw coming.