I did not write today.
I deserve no forgiveness
and no shame.
I did not write today.
Another day less fettered
I will put thoughts into words into bytes into ether into eyes into thoughts.
I did not write today
and the world stayed the same.
I did not write today.
But I wanted to.

I’ve been sitting on this package for months.

Maybe I should have held off telling you that I was going to mail it, but
I was so excited to send it off
that day and I wanted
instant gratification
even at the expense of the firework boom of surprise.

But the post office,
while not far away,
not really,
is a bog of bureaucracy,
paper trees that never blossom,
just sit obscuring vision,
and people wandering lost,
wondering, lost,
thinking that’s just the way of things.

The post office,
no matter how much I decorate the box,
or fill it with little big nothings,
the post office
would ruin my moment and
your moment
for me.

The package is just sitting there now
dust replacing meaning
dust usurping thrill
until it’s just a box
to be checked off a to-do list.

And even I don’t remember
what’s in it.

I want to open it,
and see
what you’re missing.

I like dreaming with you
the images tangible
conversation coalescing
fabrications for foundations

No one to tear down beams that are
structurally unsound
The beams the moon provides
have strength enough

Let us take that first
tender
tentative
step

I like dreaming with you

In due time, I will,
as you do now,
stand astride my conquests
and trumpet myself in
and my name shall be my herald
in strange lands

At present,
I am smaller than my shadow speaks
enclosed in miniature representation

It will not always be so
I will not always be so

Look back on my life
when it has ended
and call me prophet

Vast
and empty
as a desert
my memory of her
stretches itself out before me
her face, blank canvas
but blind emotion
sculpts her
silhouette

I sacrificed virtue at the altar of lust
betrayed and undone all the souls that I trust
To lose myself here in unbridled bliss
Give and forgive me this single kiss

An oyster knows much
of patience and dignity
making jewels of grit

Blank stares dominate
the conference room as talks start
Code is forbidden

What I see when I look
is bait not hook
a life without and with her

And why not be content?
why hearth and home resent?
one eddy to prosper, the other wither

these chords in accord
and rivers to ford
are not so deep as wide and long

And though I see the other bank
Wade here in the dank
mistaking babbling for song

Sonnets come fairly easily to me. I would never say I have mastered the form, but something about them has always appealed to me. I am also attempting to stay away from love poetry, so if the imagery is lacking in these, it is due to that very specific thinking.

This one is fairly personal to me, but does not quite say everything I want to on the subject. Maybe that is for the best, however, as I tend to be a touch wordy in general. Besides, I am sure every writer has at least some work which does not exactly work the way they want it to, but seems complete nonetheless.

As for those of you who just want funny ramblings and links, I will try to separate the two in the future, but I am rather busy, so bear with me.

—

I’m hardly shy but neither am I proud.
Humility has served me well so far.
I speak my mind. Sometimes, I speak it loud,
but often times, my fullest voice I bar

from sounding forth and making itself heard.
Don’t think at all that I don’t trust my voice.
In fact, I like the way it says my words,
but I keep it low if I’m given the choice.

You ask me why; the answer’s clear enough,
as what’s expected of a man my size
is to be bold and dominant and gruff,
which I can be, as you should realize.

My voice and touch are more tender and light.
So why be loud if you still hear me, right?