Wander

People talking laughing screaming 

But all I heard was you 

Costumes shifting bumping sparkling 

But all I saw was you 

Crowds surging swelling swaying 

But I stayed with you 

Time was fleeting passing quickly 

Yet I said goodnight to you 

Dear Rose

Dear Rose;

I'm writing to you about our common enemy,
Whose common name is anxiety.
Hopefully after you read this you'll see
How alone you are not, with me.

It crawls in my ear on hot summer nights,
And into my hair after I turn on the lights.
There it will wait as it tickles and bites,
As my mind begins to buckle and fights.

I'll wait for a friend to rescue me from this fear,
But then Ill pause as it makes me think they'll leer,
At my inability to fight at what they can't hear,
After hours of waiting they only say, 'you're fine, dear.'

I've learned to keep the little demons at bay,
But sometimes all it will take is someone's 'you'll be okay,'
Other times it will take an entire freaking day.
But when I break free oh how I feel happy and gay!

I know that I'm not really alone in fighting this,
But on the days I win I'm full of bliss.
Someday I'm sure I'll send it all away with a kiss,
And the burden will lift, which I will not miss.

Remember on the days you feel as if you're losing it all,
Look up to the stars and remember even sometimes they fall,
Even the strong and sound structures will have a weak wall,
But unlike them when you do the same, you have someone to call.

We're never alone, though we feel as if we are,
When home by ourselves or in a crowded bar,
Running I the park or Sitting in traffic in the car,
Just remember if you need help, I'm not very far.

Love,

Me

First hand

If there's one thing I can't stand
Is an attitude that's bland
One that should be canned
And banned
For it's damned
Way that it can outstand
Like a hairband
Or an old waistband
Being tested near the washstand
On how it can expand
Unlike how you understand
Instead you disband
At a hint of a reprimand
As you wave with a freehand
Like a farmhand in the wasteland
But I can outstand
And offhand
Tip your kickstand
Or knock over your book stand
As if I'm from the woodland
Instead I use my sweatband
And toss an underhand
While I'm a deckhand
Sailing just overland
Till I hit the mainland
Where I'll demand
That you'll live on an island
Or a magical play land
That'll be your forever homeland
Where you're in command
Of just a thousand
Attitudes like yours first hand

Swing Dancing

She is back again 

That little blonde 

With the laughing eyes 

And the love to dance 

She's young on the floor 

In age and experience 

But I still fall in love 

With her love to dance 

She's wisked away 

By the polish teacher 

Who teaches her the two step 

And fuels her love to dance 

She's picked up again 

By the Latino who spins 

All the pretty girls 

Like her, who love to dance 

She's breathes in the lobby 

Where the Spainard asks her 

Where she's from 

And why she loves to dance 

She's ready for the last dance 

With the elegant man in black 

Who she's sought after all night 

Who doesn't notice her love to dance 

She's young on the floor 

In age and experience 

But I still fall in love 

With her love to dance 

She has left again 

That little blonde 

With the tired feet 

With my reason to dance

Z is in the Title

As you gaze out of the window, into the

Blue sky and watch the 

Cold wind rip through the old

Dead trees, imagine the ones that live in the 

Ever green world,
Free from the
Grips of the confused that are only
Human.
If you dare to explore this world further
Just remember that you must explore as a
Kid or you will be
Lost as an adult. Explore at your own risk and
Maybe you will understand why there are
No survivors, at least of the un-
Opened eye kind, here we
Preform magic that is
Quite beyond that of a child's mind, so now
Revert back to the
Sarcastic mind of a
Troubled adult. Close your eyes to
Understand once in a while how life can be
Very good, and open them again to
Witness the ugly world.
eXplore the idea of one eye always open and
You may survive the end of the world...

Half of the Year

Warm hot chocolate kisses
Marshmallow mustaches
Blankets warmed by the indoor fire
Wrapped in homemade blankets
Drifting off into dreams

Candy kisses passed from hand to hand
Heartfelt notes left in places to be found
Secretive glances from love to love
Shared warm drinks next to a dying fire
Promises of childish, puppy love for ever

Drunken banter between friends
Green everywhere from head to toe
Traditional dinners and drinks to be had
Deep laughter from makeshift dialects
The party doesn't end at dawn

April Showers bring May flowers
At least, that is how the saying goes
With little flowers peeking through untrimmed grass
Fresh puddles being danced and trekked through
Little babies of all kinds breathing in the fresh air

School lets out and the children give a cheer
Camp begins and continues in full swing
Mothers and fathers forget how energetic children are
Teachers breathe in their fresh summer air
And quietly plan out the next school year

Fireworks popping in the night air
Children screaming with delight
Parents and friends clinking summer time drinks
Sleeping under the stars and night sky
Blessing the time to spend with family and friends

Hot cider tickling senses
The smell of apples twirling in the air
Students and teachers returning to the classroom
Parents breathing a sigh of relief
And taking naps while the children are gone

Trick or Treat is what the children say
Running here and there in the crisp fall air
Trading candies for turkey and the nights become cooler
Bundled feet and mittened fingers
Prepare for the next season ahead

Sweet messages are passed from friend to friend
Nipping winds are trapped outdoors
And become a memory when noses become busy smelling cookies
Evergreen fill the air combined with mistletoe
That are are greeted with a lovers kiss upon every meeting

Writers Block

Writers block
That's what they call it
When you can't write
Or when you don't want to

Writers block
When your inspiration has gone
Your motivation packed it's bags
And there's nothing left to write

Writers block
It's worse than a broken wrist
Or a missed friend
Or a broken window

Writers block
It reared its ugly head
Swamped the writer in a black cloud
Made them think it was the end

Writers block
I'm not afraid of you
I'm not scared of your
I'm going to defeat you