Cold Hearts and Strong Minds

There's a man on his way to work,

In all accounts on time.

Leaving an hour early,

Regarding every traffic sign.

He's learned to walk on broken glass,

From the times he cut his feet,

Scratched his nails with his skin,

And learned the art of retreat.

Taking in the world all around,

As he drives behind a truck.

Feeling safe and insecure,

Knowing he disposed his own luck.

With the future straight ahead,

And the past increasingly behind,

He's taken steps to ensure.

To everybody he remains kind.

Although the world builds itself up,

Heavier and more intense.

He submits to it's control,

And builds a solid fence.

A cold heart is a strong mind,

And soon all will see.

That in this truth you will find,

A simple story of me.

Four Lines at a Time

What is there to say that hasn't already been said.

Lines from poems and poets run rampant in my head.

Past literary figures leave me breathless and dead.

Leaving me to sulk silently in my empty bed.

Grinding my teeth to the point of no return.

Getting through each day with each sad song I learn.

Knowing my pictures are what you wish to burn.

The truth is out and now it's your turn.

Driving empty streets wishing I had a direction.

A destination, anything to keep my eye off my reflection.

Knowing it takes all your strength to maintain your complexion.

I'm a scab, a slit, a wrist with an infection.

Day two and feeling mostly indifferent.

lack of flavor, life, insipid.

There are hints that point to the innocent.

Realizing slowly, this is it.

Cold nights and an empty stare.

Your wellbeing is beyond my care.

Nothing I do or say is fair.

Take everything, take it all, even my air.

Confirming Sureness

taking every scrap of time it takes

to burn this history and rewrite fate.

taking all actions into account

sealing the fall with this image i create

missing the pretense and how it never occurred

failing the innocence and chalking up the lines that blurred

knowing strength is what it takes

to remember that these November days are absurd.

waiting for the warm wind to die away

bring the cold breeze to stray away

all the heat that this life has created

and hoping this time the frost will stay.

triggering tears in an atmosphere of confusion.

all of this all of this, it has to be a disillusion.

something false, something not there.

something a few steps short of a solution.

wandering down street lit alleys

knowing someone less fortunate is around the corner rallying

oppositions to take whats mine

prepositions support this fallacy.

words rhyme yes

as they come less and less

stolen from another poem

until there is nothing in these fingers left.

recycled what was mine

to create another line

to lead me away

from what i thought was mine.

fearing the light, holding the darkness.

knowing i cant see anything in this emptiness.

knowing theres no steps ahead of me to fall upon

knowing theres nothing left to confess.

Waiting for summer to turn into fall.

Hoping for this archetype that I place above them all.

Waiting by my memory hoping it will call.

I know that I screwed up and I'm waiting for the fall

but know you know I love you, insecurities and all.

Patterns in speech draw pictures of your voice.

Fractured and unclean I staple them to choice.

Scratching away surgeries I sit and rejoice

Carbon Copy

The poetry is gone, it's too much like the rest.

writing carbon copies of loves and past deaths.

looking for a break through, knowing theres nothing left.

Theres nothing in this ink

save the monthly issues I think

the subscription to apathy

the premium I link,

to my life and my mind

knowing nothing ties in with time.

seeing the world pass by me

while slowing down in the middle lane, weaving lines.

when something new comes along it will connect itself to the past

the past is the only reasons these poems end to fast.

Through November.

Into December.

Freezing and faulting pain to remember.

no time to rhyme.

return to sender.

*Not Titled Yet*

Chalking up the cold air to

scrape it across my face,

I see the frost on my eyelids

I see the hurt that i can taste.

I feel the memory rip me back

I feel fractured pieces within

I hear the voices of the future

I hear the cries of the past come in.

Infiltrate this design

create the fine line

for me to cross

and you to see

all that is lost and

all that cant be.

remember the day when you say you want to leave

hold it in your mind,

watch it make you bleed.

Tomorrow.

Zero Rhythm Connection

There is no up and down to connect you to this verse.

so i sit and lay here and beg myself not to curse.

your slipping away in the cracks i made and now i see a herse

but from inside i see you watching me drive away with a smile in your purse.

Yes i have dreams and yes i have schemes

i have plans to break this down.

i have examples and samples and a license to break sound.

i have excuses and fuses to keep this spark found

i have everything i need to remember where i was

and everything i dont is just a reason to rise above.