Ink & Words

Writing

I write way too much poetry. Most of it lives in notebooks and 2 AM phone drafts. These are the honest ones — curated from about a hundred, grouped by the feelings that keep showing up.

Featured

Sleep Poem

Rest your eyes, let the darkness surround you. Keep them shut, let light fill the inside. Let your mind wander from the dark to new. to come back and take you for a ride. Let the clouds of dreams hover. Beautifully, drifting asunder. There shall be cotton candy dreams. Extreme exploration of other worlds. Toys with candy bursting from the seams. Super powers and lightning whirls A terminal cursor blinking green at 2 AM, wheat fields stretching gold past a Montana fence line, the hum of a hotel hallway you can't find the end of. Let your dreams fill your mind Let it take you to wonderful places And then, leave it all behind. Come back to your current races As light fills the room and the sun rises you realize soon energy and peace were the prizes. And you slowly forget everything as you find yourself awake. You come to remember nothing, and your day starts to take.

Sweet Dreams

The bedtime rhymes — cotton candy dreams and counting sheep

Rest Well

Well baby, I'm beat. So here's a poem, now I'm going to get some sleep. Rest well, sweet dreams, tomorrow is another day. No goodbyes, just close those eyes and be on your way. The world around you may morph and change, let it be magical and take your mind past its range. Rest those eyes, keep them shut, but darkness won't make the cut. Your mind's eye will wander, and bring its own light, Where you'll find wonderful and magical delights. Tomorrow will come in a hurry, but you'll not have to worry. For the light peeking in will rise you to your feet, And off you'll go on another day to your heart's beat.

Dreams

Sweetest of dreams to the lioness with the mane of gold. Let those shining dark spheres rest their turn now. It is time for your thoughts to become much more bold. Allow the world to be turned and let this one take a bow. Enter the dreams with the fun, excitement and cheer. Leave behind all trace of darkness, fears, or tears. Visit your friends, your loved ones, your dreams or your past. Visit the future, the fantastic, a new world, or bring in a new cast. Your dreams are yours and fun should they be, While you rest your eyes until daylight shines on thee. Until then, let them be filled with joy and Glee. But I do have to say, try to remember me ;)

Goodnight I Hope to Dream of You

I rest my head and close my eyes, before me a new image begins to arise. Will it be something of a frightful ride, Or will it be something fun to bide. Maybe it will cause great intrigue, A story with obstacles attempting to impede. Maybe the journey will bring something fair And cause a stir, an arousal in the air. But whatever it may be, I know I desire to see, A wonderful memory Of you and me.

Rest Baby

Rest your weary eyes, Lay down your sweet head Good night baby, it is time for bed. While your body lies, With only motions of sleep, I'm here to help you count those sheep. May slumber take you, one and whole And allow you to regain a semblance of control Rest for now, for as you wake, If you've had your fill, happiness will better take. And your day will continue, as any before, But tonight, my baby, get that rest you were hoping for.

Rest Your Eyes

Rest your eyes, Those gems so bright. May you sleep wonderfully tonight. Let your eyelids fall, not to rise, Easing pain and bringing calm. As if humming a wondrous Psalm. The mind will carry you where you need. Let you experience, be, see, try, or do indeed. There you will wander great distances, Travel the world and experience new feelings. You can meet with anyone and find any healings. You can even create your own existences. And you can stay until the morn. When you wake, hopefully much less worn. And then those beautiful eyes so bright, Must wake to the morning light. Take the time and rub it out, That sleep that rested in your eyes. And wake yourself, turn about, To start the day as the dream memory flies. Hiding those gorgeous gems you carry. No worry, no hurry, nothing to tarry. There you'll let your mind take over And I hope it takes you places like Dover.

Darkness & Light

Depression, self-confrontation, and the parts we integrate

Darkness

Hello darkness my old friend, Here we meet once again. For in the light I won't be found, In the darkness I am bound. I hold myself so deep and true, Locked away inside of you. Once I wished I knew a way, to lead myself back to day. But here I am dark and in need, of something to make me heed. Something that exists within, that'll let me step away from sin. Here I am once again, locked inside my own prison. I do that which I should not, fucking up my life a lot. And rarely I find a cure, instead I find myself impure. I walk away from time to time, but always come back soaked in wine. My tears of joy are all of sorrow, I'm lost again until tomorrow. On that day I hope so true, that I can finally escape you. I hurt so deep it can't be said, but that's why I'm back here instead. Locked in my own withdrawal, I hide inside this little ball. Till one day I am free from you, till then, let me sit here in your view. And once I gather courage true, I'll escape but surround you. With things that we each need most, and darkness will be bright in this host. For together is the only way that you and I can complete and stay A full version of a human being, one with brightness and darkness not just unseen, but held in knowledge and complete as a person shining from that feat. We will hold ourselves up high knowing that this darkness is my, partial side that can be so bright, not something just held out of sight. And together we shall be dark and light inside me.

Worthwhile Improvement?

Rage induced improvement, Self deprecation turned beneficial. The fire burns towards true potential. Pain induced pleasure as pure deterrent. Loathing and anxiety create missions. Improvement just raises the pedestal. Gaps swell and collective interests fall. Time continues to hamper the visions. A constant battle against complacency. Anger driven ambition always arduous. Renaissance man becomes incongruous. Epoch resolves. Toil exhausted wastefully?

Rest

Marble, beautifully engraved, pictures, words, dates and a name. In a field hidden where no road is paved, Between two trees, here the wildlife isn't quite so tame. The summer brings life abound, Farming, working, and nature's many sounds. Green, warm, and wonderful You rest hidden, but nearby love is bountiful. Overlooking a site many would die to see. Post mortem I'm certain a great site to be. Colors, arts, and life anew Here is where I finally come and visit you When cold and hard, the winter may flurry, And all may not come out in as much of a scurry. However, it is fitting, for life was rather rough, You break through the winter and are rewarded for being tough. We love and care for you quite dearly, So I hope you listen in when we visit sincerely I forgive the pain and issues we had, So rest in peace mom, this place helps me remember GLAD.

Emotional Sinkhole

Sometimes you find yourself in an emotional sinkhole. Everything says to follow that of what you know, but you avoid it all as you kill off what would grow. You find yourself digging and ruining the whole, when you find yourself sinking in an emotional sinkhole. The trap you set was one you'd not be able to turn down, the thoughts would sit and fester as the web, it unwound, and you would be caught in the bottom of the puppet master's role, as once again, you'd be stuck in your own emotional sinkhole. A day of tiredness you let to fester, growing wary from experience, you messed her. A lesson learned, a lesson done, give it up, learn it, son, you know how this truly ends, you need to heed your off trends. The rest is fine, you know it is true, but Jesus kid, get the f#$@ over you! And here I'll slumber once again, as I see where I was to begin. A hand, a twist, a jerk, and a pole pull, anything to rid of a ridiculous emotional sinkhole.

Renaissance Man Problems

Identity, mediocrity, and the jack-of-all-trades anxiety

Mediocre Master

A jack of all trades a master of none. Left at the end with not a single one. You see what it was that you always wanted, but each time is a reminder just to be flaunted. Walking through, incapable of achieving, that which you wanted, it is just deceiving. Never another to fully be capable of an assist you walk along, lost, while opportunities are missed. One day you'll either reach the destination, or you'll die trying, the more plausible situation. You've seen and thought long and hard, but sadly, you're not any actual bard. You try and tell each and every story you hold, but your life only allows for them to unfold. Repeated times of tire and drear, rear their head and create sundering fear. Ne'er a time have you told a rhyme, as memory has spared you not a single dime. Either chaotic and boring is each tale told, or you find a way to be to cloy and bold. One day you'll find yourself quite able, versatile, well rounded, and capable. However, you'll sit around an empty table. There, it can be shared, your entire fable. All of what was done and what you're still able. This is the audience you strove and fought to find, for in the end, you'll realize it is somewhere behind. Back it is lost in the depths of your time, and you, now ending your place, remembering syne.

Git

A love lost is like no other, it burns the heart and closes it to others. You feel the covers as they shutter closed, and wonder where you stand, posed. Another time, another loss, you give up and cry another toss... Eventually you'll realize where you stand, you're just a good ole no one's man. You live alone and you live true, but goddammit man, you are you. Go on you old damn git, you're perfect for you, and that's fucking it.

Untitled

Some feel that I'm plain, that I'm nothing more than ordinary. Vanilla becomes a loaded adjective, something that is meant to be lackluster. Funny thing is that I am far from plain. I'm extremely deep, extremely ornate, the depths I go are hard to relate. I just don't get the cram and sugar. I dress well, hell, I dress up. But other things, subject matters, shouldn't be beat around, shouldn't be dressed up, the point should be plain and clear.

Sometimes We Learn

Sometimes we learn a lesson vast, sometimes it shows who we are...at last. Sometimes we find what is real, sometimes we find we have to hide the feel. Sometimes we stumble on the thing we need, a hand held out, a word, a planted seed. But whatever we do, we each must be true, for something lost to us is something to rue. And either way, a lesson will be learnt, for never do we walk this earth unburnt. And all we do, we learn, love, laugh, and say, but goddammit, sometimes it could just go our way.

The Funny Ones

Not all poetry has to be serious

New Tires

Dark, slender, curves and grooves. Mesmerized, I stick, as you move. Your grip and feel Let me slide and reel. Our syncopated dance Almost as if a romance. Steering so tight, Hugging each corner with delight, Enjoying every moment of flight, It all feels just so right. Even wet you stick! YES this Grip! A ride like this, Thank you mistress. You came as a pair, Tantalizingly fair. And altogether improve, Our every which move. I'm glad we all work just right, As we hit the road and again take flight.

Thank You Brodin

Thank you Brodin, my gainz were good. I can now lift more than I could. The endorphin high reminds me, to remove my rage. Forgiveness for all, that is my new page. At least until tomorrow, When far off I will go. Traveling, yet not moving, the pain will begin shooting. I'll feel the sore, glad to feel. I'll embrace the pain and know something real. However, my attitude may shift, as I wander around through people adrift. I'll exit the airport, rage fully renewed... But then, once again, I'll just have to pray to you.

I'm a PITA

A pain in the ass, I'm sure I may be, but hopefully worth it, to thee. I'm needy, I'm coarse, I'm callous, I'm sore. I know sometimes, I'm probably even a bore. But somewhat smitten, I quite seem to be, I'm here once again, writing poetry. I want you, I need you, it is easy to see. So though quite a pain, please, caress me. From a pain like myself, it may be asking too much, But I really desire, enjoy, and need your touch. Over the moon, head over heels, apples and flames The idioms abound, they have so much range. Sayings all over, but they all do the same... Proclaiming feelings one hopes will not change.

A Window

It can be bright or dark, filled with color or blank. You see many people on it, few you know. Many sights and many sounds, landscape, animals. The world is in it. I know one thing, my TV is always on.

After Dark

Things written when sleep wouldn’t come

What Is Kept Behind the Door

Poetry I have in store, But only so much comes through this door. And so right now, I wish you rest. For, to wow You isn't best. Some things are left some things unsaid, But that is best when words are only read. The times we've spoke have been quite few, But some little spark has lit anew. I hope to see where that tinder flies, But for that, we have to meet our eyes. So rare we've seen, it seems unreal For the number of words and this long, time wheel. We talk a bunch and joke at that, But will you really visit the cats? Sometimes confusion says it best, when words fall short of what's expressed. And so I write something more drab, At least until your attention I've grabbed. I hope to try and fight it clear, And let you see that I am here. I'd like to see where things could lead, What sparks and fires that tinder seeds. But what I want is not always real, And so this goes on my hidden reel.

Hope for an Us

A gorgeous lioness so sweet, Still a bit of mystery, but we came to meet. The amazing course our night took, so long, yet short, it left me shook. My heart trembled open with joy, as you took my arm and fit so perfectly there. Hand in hand, with you, my heart did swell, to play at the balance of bold and unaware. I wonder more upon your thoughts, for what of me you've seen so far. I mentally play at what was brought to the table and where we set our bar. But of those things I work to calm, for they will not ease or sate the qualm. Memories of touch display our truest aim, This I'm sure, even if she forgets my name. Either way, the spark was cast, the fires lit, together we sit on the edges of the pit. Looking down at embers we each see if the great flames come to dance with glee.

Love & Growth

The ones that reach toward something

Endeavor

Side by side, hand in hand, down this path we go. I'm here for this journey my dear, beside you, so you know. A love unlike those before, growing in each, we sow Your hand in mine, we choose a path, we advance. You look at me, I look at you, we share another glance. Looking back, our initial paths crossed purely by chance. The constant divergent paths, slowly merge together, As our path continues, we may face some unseemly weather, but side by side, hand in hand, we move forward and endeavor.

Us

We each need the kind of attention that calls back when the line goes dead. A ways before stable, and life still uncertain. Let's open our curtains, and make sure we are able To ensure that we grow, and learn each quirk Life has more for us, so let's each make mention and follow up often so our walls can soften. Let's see where we grow if these lives we do sow. Water our relations, let light enter bright. Creating foundations by nurturing right.

Sorry

Sorry to hurt you sorry to leave, sorry to be there, and cause you to grieve. I'm sorry to feel you, and desire you more, I'm sorry to be there and question why for. I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass, I'm sorry wondering if you'll pass. I'm sorry for being there, I'm sorry to care. I'm sorry you're hearing sorry, it isn't fair. But really, I'm not sorry to you at all. Because each of my sorries comes with a wall. You've seen me consistent, you've seen me as me. And well, hun, I care for you, and that's all it can be. So, I'm not sorry for caring, or sorry to try, but I am sorry for being, such a pitiful guy.

Some Things Are Hard to Say

Some things are hard to say, Like when I see your eyes, I can't turn away. Those gorgeous eyes shine so bright, Shimmering back so much light. It makes me want to hold you through the night. Strongly holding my arms so tight. That look you see, that glitters back at thee, a jewel that shimmers so damn delicately. Something transfixes inside me, And once again I'm stuttering. A sight that lights fires so warming. It ignites a desire for holding And sharing warmth, glowing. Something sweet I wish I'd say, But instead I stare, unable to turn away. And so we sit, at least one, still misunderstood, Wishing to do more than what we have, but not what we could.

Prose

Short essays and stories — the things that needed more room than a stanza

Communication

Remember everyone, communication is a two way street. I often hear friends complain one way or another about another friend or loved one. "He won't just listen! He offers advice all the time! He won't let me vent!" or "She doesn't understand! She complains about her colleagues all the time! She gets jealous over any little thing!"

As I often tell people, you have to be straight up. No one reads and understands each situation perfectly. Lead the conversation with, "Sorry, I just need to vent." "I don't want any advice, but..." "Hey, mind listening to me rant for a minute..."

I'm serious. I have mentioned this to people, and it isn't taken seriously enough. If you want communication to be better, improve it. It is all a two way street, and no one knows you like you. So, let others know what you want or need, then let it go at it. Interrupt, say you don't want advice. Mention and talk through jealousy.

I know I have problems, that's why I bring this up. I do it all the time, I cause people to feel like I am giving too much advice and being condescending, I will try to solve everything, or I'll buy or do something to help out.

In all honesty, I try to let others know when I think I am feeling jealous or angry. I follow it with why and what actions caused it, and try to dive into if it is reasonable or another goofy reaction to something meaningless.

I know it sounds crazy, but if you actually walk through your communication, your problems, your fears, and your less helpful emotions, you can get over them, past them, and make progress.

The only way to build true trust, care, and understanding, is by trying to display and communicate YOU. We all have to interpret and understand that. In order to understand someone, they have to present themselves. In order for the understanding to be mutual, you have to work through the communication and interpretation barriers. Life isn't easy, communication isn't easy, but you can make things a LOT easier by just trying to see things from both sides and present what you mean.

Home

And then you enter your hotel room, look around, and realize that this isn't you, this isn't home... this isn't even something worth keeping around. There isn't much to remind you of what you thought home really was. You stare, desiring, wondering, contemplating... Hell, even the people you talked with today ran when you said you were 40 miles out of their town... why would anyone come here... what would anyone do?

You decide to go grab a drink upstairs, calm the demons, calm the self, see what others were letting out tonight...

Step step step... after reaching an elevator, you guess at the floor. 7, that sounds good. Ping!!!! You arrive.

The doors open, and immediately your heart drops. You don't let it sink, you never do that anymore... You decide to take a few steps, see what the hell is on the other side of this glass...

Squish, squish, your shoes make a light noise against the tile that you can't help. You think to yourself that these shoes obviously need to be replaced with something worthwhile, something not foam... but you remember your client, and decide against caring. Suddenly, you quote again, "Not my Circus, not my monkeys." It seems to be the only thing holding you together now a days. The last remnants of a sanity once lost...

Anyways, you step beyond the glass, lean in, ready yourself against the bar, and look around the room.

The room is empty aside from five businessmen all sitting around a table. How surprising... what a perfect way to end a perfect night. There is no one to converse with. No one that understands you, no one to attempt to make a connection or a mutual complaint. No one to care or share your current situation with. You decide it must be past reason to be at such a place, and start to wander around the bar, looking for any clue of left over life.

"Can I take this to go? I got up here and suddenly my spirits were shot."

"Of course! Take it wherever! Just make sure you pay, and sorry, it was last call, so I cleaned up."

I wandered out, my chardonnay in hand, looking for my next adventure. The only thing that arrived was a vending machine. I ordered a coconut water and returned to my room... my current... home...

There, stewing over the lack of sleep, creativity, sensitivity, and sincerity of everything I had been sharing, I realized I had to do something more.

I opened my online notes, realized I was far from the person who claimed nothing original in content, and decided that, for once, I would write again.

I read the beginnings of myself, continued on, and wrote something... anything! Sometimes, our creativity never brings us close to reason, but sometimes, it at least lets us escape danger.

I knew I had to do something like this, it was text that disappeared so long ago, along with her, and text that will arise, as she beat that into us.

107

Written

Curated

Collections

These aren't precious. They weren't written for an audience. They were written because 2 AM wouldn't let me sleep without saying something.

If you write too, I'd like to hear about it. The best conversations start with someone saying “I wrote something and I'm not sure it's good.”