Thursday Morning

I'm starting to think I like my face better wet
Crying over some dead celebrity I never met
And forgetting
And rememberring
My priorities
And wondering when exactly I started liking coffee
And asking
Does it matter?
And remembering a dream
Of what we all want
Of mattering
And starting to think
And starting to say
Its to early to think
But I think I
Will anyway

Life

Constantly haunted by secrets untold
Watching helpless as disaster unfolds
Trying to believe
All you've been told
And chasing the sunbeams
Your hands cannot hold

Awkward

I'm going the wrong way
On a one way street
My heart is set on dancing
When I've got two left feet
I cannot sing a note
Yet my souls aways in song
And I'll ask you to arm wrestle
Though you could hardly say I'm strong
If the name of the game is awkwardness
I guess I'm keeping pace
So i might as well go through life
With a smile on my face

I looked up confused in the thesaurus

I'm abashed
Addled
Befuddled
And baffled
Simply Bewildered
And dazed
I'm discounted
Quite distracted
I'm flummoxed and flustered
Why I'm absolutely puzzled
By love

Lost

You
And your allusions
Of grandeur
He gave you roasted sunflower seeds
And tickled
Your barefeet
Yet you yearned
For more

You left a note
And caught a bus to nowhere

He says your name
In his sleep

Art Room Sink

This is what happens when you stare at a sink for 10 minutes.

Sleek
Silver
And Shining
You are beautiful in your simplicity
And suprising in your complexity
Your arched back hangs
Over the waiting abyss
I watch in awe
For you do not tremble

Flops,Socks ,and Toes

Sometimes poetry can be inspired my the most mundane objects....this can result in something amazing....or not:

My poor sock
Without a pair
I wonder if it even cares
Is it's mate in an affair?
Perhaps the pink-
She's missing too
Yes, she ran off with my blue
Hiding out in the laudry room
   So i wear..
Mismatched socks to school




Squat little creatures
Standing in rows
Stuck to my feet
Is the egnigma of toes