Better on paper

your wet snaked hair

riding hood under that

rain drop stare

 that back street light

cones a pillar of showers’ on the flooded night.

Oh, dark Raven with sometimes screeching green eyes.

…I do love you,

you know.

It’s just… hard for me to see

love isn’t really actually poetry

it’s not so much the same

as the subtle beauty of my dreams

at least…not always.

Not every moment

gets a thousand words,

we won’t always wake with the sun

balancing between our cheeks…

I mean, I’m not the man

my words often draw me to seem.

I’m not the lover I’d like to believe

…I’m romantic, nothing grand, just subtleties-

and seldoms, and few and far betweens.

Better on paper in all honesty

but if…you can see the me beyond that which you may read…

you’re more than welcome...

Dear,     I’m yours for the taking.

shitstorm back home

glasses, and laptop bound

In my parents’ guest bedroom

the night is clear as far as I know

there’s no rain on the window-

and all it took was a video clip-

memory flashes 2 years back

I was naïve, and curious, and

stepping; a child into the world.

Those first city streets…so new to me

My friend, we drove up the coast, and

flipped a coin for where we’d make our stay…

the Great NW debut day

We ditched the car,

lost ourselves, magnificent.

got pizza and drinks at some random bar

kids in denim jackets, and long sleeve tattoo’s

Graffiti walls, and brickredpubs,

oh, how I believed everything I was doing

all the people and things were wonderful and new…

and I suppose looking back.

I still kind of do.

(waking early in paid parking lots

Walking sun, determined to find that city flat

on no income, little pocket cash)

drunk on that birthday bottle irish whiskey

We slept 2 weeks in our front seats

of that jeep…

no ties, a life in between

the stories of love I’d left behind.

(trapped on a piano key melody off Morrison and 4^th)

Under a steady downpour

I soaked up the city’s lore

and erased my past forever more

glasses and nowhere but laptop bound

Back lost in my parents guest bedroom…

there’s no rain on this fucking window.

hell, it’s probably a shitstorm back home..

goddamn,           I miss the skies,  unowned

…the paths of so many streets still unknown…