Cold

Im cold 

Chilled to the bone 

Left outside 

Forgotten 

I'm looking outside in 

Where there's warmth

Within anothers skin 

I'm jealous 

Of the touch 

Between lonely lovers 

During the seasons 

Of the embrace 

That never seems to end 

Not for the uninvited stranger 

I'm alone 

A dog without a bone 

An acorn without its cap 

A lover without a love 

I'll be okay 

It's only winter 

I'll awaken in the spring 

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

Demon Attack

Always be aware of your surroundings.

There was a full moon that night, and the air tensed with the uneasiness of something horrid that was to happen. I was sixteen at the time, young, pretty, college bound and full of adventure.

Work went like it went as any other shift, fifteen hundred bodies coming and going on a cold winter night. Some where at the mountain to learn how to ski, bundled up so that they resembled moving marshmallows with squeaky voices. I worked in the basement then, helping customers find the right sized boots for their rented skis or snowboards, or finding their shoes when they've returned my equipment. I loved my customers; from the out of townees who couldn't wait to try the slopes that was on their to do list, to the people that became friends from out of the country. I had a family once that I was able to communicate with my limited Spanish and their broken English. Our interaction was so genuine and wonderful that they returned the following weekend to try skiing again and asked for me to help them!

The people I worked with in the basement could not have been nicer. There was Rob, who sold stocks on the side. He was 28, handsome, married to his snowboard and very clever. He would dive in to any situation to help, even if it wasn't needed. Sue and Joe were the twins, always in sync with each other, whenever you saw one, you would see the other shortly after. Even though Sue was obviously a girl, and Joe was obviously a boy, they would cut their short black hair the same way, and wear the same shirt under their uniform, just to drive our manager crazy! Oh my manager, Mark, he was the most wonderful man in the world to work for as someone just starting out in their careers. He was on the far side of fifty, with as many wrinkles on his face. He was short, but his voice was loud, you could hear it from one end of the lodge to the other. If there was a customer that needed help, or we were understaffed, he would roll up his sleeves and help us out.

The night in question though, shortened my stay with these lovely people. It was my last night working down in the basement, the last night before I headed back to college. I wanted to stay and be with all of them, and continue working with the customers that I had grown to love. They threw me a small party, and wished me luck as we closed up together for the last time. Most of them would stay, but I was the only one that was leaving for the wide world. I would return the following winter, and stay on perhaps a little bit longer.

I never liked going out to my car alone, and neither did Mark so we always went together. We made a funny pair, Old Mark and I, walking each other to our cars that were tucked away from the customers vehicles. I said good night to Mark, gave him one last thank you hug and locked myself into my car. I loved that beat up car of mine. I had only used it for a few months and it already went through two relationships, three snowstorms and a flat tire. It was a four door white tank that I would not have traded for anything in the world! I started up my little car and started the drive home.

About a mile away from work I heard a *crack* at the bottom of my car and my heart stopped. I thought I had only hit a branch but it was obviously something more serious. I signaled to let the truck behind me go around, and started to pull to the side to check ... but the truck did the same! I panicked, I hit the gas and drove home, or at least as far as I could to a safe place. I knew there was a house that I had babysat at was only a mile away and I knew I could make it that far. The truck was still behind me, and I still didn't let him pass. He honked his horn at every turn, and flashed his high beams into my mirrors, but I still would not pull over until I knew I was somewhere safe!

Finally, the clunking under my car could only mean something was serious and I pushed the little car to the driveway of the Triackles. The truck was right behind me as I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find, the heavy flashlight that was a part of my winter gear, leaped out of my car and I screamed loud to wake the neighbors, "What do you want!" I waved my mighty flashlight over my head and braced myself to throw it, and to be ready to run. The Triackles porch light went on, the motion detector was set off by my wild movements.

Slowly the truck door opened, and out stepped a tall man, with heavy work boots. He wore a thick Carhart jacket and laughed at my stance. "Oh honey, I appreciate the theatrics and that you're trying to protect yourself, but you don't need to! I've been trying to pull you over since you hit the tree because you broke your tail pipe!" He laughed again. "Ha! Just go ahead and pop your trunk, I'll stay over here and wiggle it loose to throw in there, and I'll be on my way!"

True to his word, he removed the broken tail pipe, threw it into my trunk, tugged his woolen hat in my direction and drove off, smiling and laughing at the situation. I could see Mrs. Triackle standing in the window, watching the whole situation. I stood there shocked at how quickly I had misread the situation, and how quickly I had stood up to defend myself against an angel. I was proud of that. I drove home, and explained why I was late. It turned out my angel had already called my house to inform my family of what he had done, and to say I would be home shortly. I never got the second chance to thank him.

I suppose it could have been worse. I would rather be ready to fight an angel, and have the situation be a very funny story for the future than if I had let myself be unprotected when the demons attack. Always be aware of your surroundings.

Anecdotes

As a writer
Little things I never
Would have guessed
Would still have an impact
Find its way back to me

I'll find little notes
Just little anecdotes
That take me years back
To when you and I
Used to talk daily

I'll find the little handwritten
Folded pieces of smitten
Written between high school loves
Or the others torn and taped
Between friends, in between classes

I started to write this break up note
Which I found in my old small coat
About how 'I've got this heaviness
In my heart when ever I talk to you.'
And I haven't a clue as to who it is to

As I read on this old love letter
It really doesn't get any better
For I write to them 'I don't know
If its because we've been over
or because we never were.'

I must have been the writer
Because I've always been a fighter
But I read on as it says
'If we never were then we never were.'
I must have really been fighting to let go

As I continue on I read
And understand where it starts to lead
If you think about it, it can be applied to everyday
'But I wish the spot in my heart would go away,
It makes it hard to breathe sometimes...'

Now before you and I get too excited
I think you are going to laugh and be delighted
To know that this was not to some old love
Or to a friend that I had let go
It was to the end of Girl Scout cookie box
Which now I once again crave.....

Roses

I've never been one for hidden meanings
The hidden picture books always drove me insane
Don't ask me to find the missing whatever
I'll answer you just the same

When you offer me roses I adore the colors
From red to white to yellow to pink
I'll appreciate the gesture and the time that it took
To bring them all to me here

When I offer you roses understand that I know what they mean
To my friends forever I'll offer
The pale yellows and pure whites
To show my love and appreciation of our true friendships

If I offer a person who has wronged me
By perhaps eating the last cookie
Or taking my parking space
I'll offer them a single, perfect, yellow rose

This rose means we are still friends
And friends we'll forever remain
I forgive you dear friend
For all friends deserve a second chance...

Just don't eat my cookies again!

Killing Me

I'm sorry that I'm worried 

I'm sorry that I care 

I'm sorry that -

Wait, I'm not sorry 

I can't type the words that I want to say 

But if you look at me as I write this you would know 

But you can't see me tonight 

And you won't see me tonight 

Because you are too far away 

You're too far away from me 

Too far away in your thoughts about her 

And her 

And of course him 

And of course he's in my mind too 

The tears well in my eyes as I think about us 

The three of us so many years ago 

I picked us all up  

In the car I borrowed from my Dad 

Do you remember that spring afternoon? 

It was you and me and him 

Blowing bubbles in the cool spring air 

Not knowing what the next few years would bring 

You and I continuously called each other 

Saw plays together 

Watched the stars 

Played card games 

Planned our individual lives together 

Watched others fall apart 

Then rebuild 

He and I called each other when you weren't around 

We even went to dinner together once 

My girls night out date cancelled 

And he came to my rescue 

One of my favorite date nights still 

And will always be 

When the day came that changed our lives forever 

And I saw you a few days later 

You were a shell of yourself 

A absolute shell of yourself 

Not even a spark of your was left in your eyes 

I knew it would return 

Slowly 

But I knew that haunted look would never leave 

Unfortunately I hide mine behind my smile 

I'm writing this in real time 

And I should have written it a while ago 

The tears I thought had stopped 

The muffled memories I thought would stay hidden 

The folder where I tucked everything 

From the story in the paper 

To the card as a reminder 

To the few ticket stubs I found 

I thought they would stay there and keep me safe 

But I know that they won't stay hidden and quiet forever 

Like the tears that still appear in my eyes 

I know that you hide yourself in helping others 

By keeping mementos and dropping what you're doing quickly 

When you offer a ride to someone in need 

To sending things that don't belong to you to faraway places 

You like to fix things 

I wish I could fix you 

You can't see the haunted look in your eyes 

That will never go away 

You can't feel the soft hugs that you give 

And how they used to be so strong 

You can't see the pain that I can read on your face 

When you attempt to tell me a happy story 

You can't see 

But I can 

And It's killing me 

It's killing me that every time we ask 

You give us a different answer 

It's killing me that every time you throw a party 

You act like a different you 

It's killing me that I'm losing one of my best friends 

You might already know that 

The things you'll say to me when we're alone 

The stories that we share 

The tears that we spill 

The laughs that we have between the tears 

Those moments will always be yours and mine 

Yours and Mine Alone 

But I wish I could see more smiles 

Instead of tears 

I wish I could have tighter hugs that never let go 

Instead of ones that let go too early 

I wish I could have a little bit more of you 

Instead of the shell of you 

That you are silently becoming 

My dear, dear friend 

You know I love you dearly 

I tell you this almost every time I see you 

I may not say it, but I most certainly show it 

When you ask me for help on your homework

I try to help 

As we're heading to any of our shows 

I wish you well and a safe trip 

Each night as you lay sleeping 

I send a prayer your way 

Any day that shows any sign of joy 

I pray that more will find you soon 

I'm not sorry that I'm worried 

I'm not sorry that I care 

I'm not sorry that I love you, 

You'll forgive me some day 

Three Hundred Years

You wake up sleepy here in our little town,
In the middle of the night.
You eat dinner for breakfast and Breakfast for dinner,
but lunch still stays the same.
But you spit it all back out,
So you never get to enjoy it.
You don't walk the dog in the traditional sense,
Instead, you put it down,
Yes that down,
 and it goes right back where it started!
Cleaning messes is easy because the house cleans it self,
Here in our little town.
You  go to work exhausted and hungry, and most definitely sober,
But you undo everything that was done before,
and yet you call it done.
Or you un-teach what was taught,
put the trash and recycling back,
Un-buy the groceries or
Un-win the lottery,
But that how it goes in our little town.
After lunch the sun goes down in the east,
And it slowly gets colder out when we go home wide awake,
Un-sipping our coffees or teas and kissing our spouses hello
We sit down and undo break fast too.
There's never any crime because it's always being un-done,
And you can never die,
Just grow younger until you no longer exist,
Even up to the moment  of conception.
Technology is slowly de-evolving and
We're getting dumber everyday.
I wish I could tell you how to stop it all,
 But I'm waiting for just the right day.
I made the wish to see time go back wards
And affect everyone but me.
Every second that goes by more history is being unmade,
People aren't dying from war or disease,
In fact, they're going home and being happy again.
And the sick children are able to play once more,
The dog you loved as a child is a puppy again,
Though he's being un-trained as we speak.
The cries of fear from the war bombs
Are cries of relief as they instead go away.
Sons and daughters come home with tears of laughter instead of fear!
Fifty years have gone by,
Maybe more,
As I watch history reverse.
I've seen so many disturbing entries,
About what happened in the past,
But the historians forgot to mention the happiness,
And the forgiving stories that unfolded As well.
I should probably stop and let history repeat itself,
But there's one thing I wanted to do first:
Three hundred years before now,
When my town was just a single field,
Before there were paved roads and friendly neighbors,
And the summer time fair,
Before there was the golf course and the churches,
And the old school bell,
There was just the fields and the few farmers,
Who decided that this was the place to start a new town.
I wanted to go back,
Literally go back,
And see who was responsible,
For starting my life off, right.