On Monotony

Every night becomes an invitation
To some new knowledge given,
But sometimes a night just withers
Away in a simple, quiet fashion.
I love the thought of a new everyday,
But maybe I've got to resign myself
To the truth that some days are just
Unimportant collapses of particles,
Cascading across horizons at intervals.
Well, oh well. A guy could do worse.
Up close in life I fail. Always do I
Quantify every idea and image that
Crosses my mind. I look at the root-
Never the branches. I often miss such
Beautiful blooms that sway sweetly
In a nighttime air of confident bliss.
What a fool I've become, these days.

New Breed Kids

New breed kids,
Color and shade, bright light
Music, drowning sonic waves
And sunshine moment
Through paved jungles of easy
Persuasion. Lost ones; lit faces
In noisy places. Disconnection
Connected together, disillusioned
And drowning with acute perception.
Know better than the rest. Informed.
Sex addicted, solipsistic wonderment
About them. Energy enlightened
Fifteen seconds at a time.
But time only changed the platform.
All that is remains to be the same that
Mothers and fathers did,
Their parents before,
And all the human spirit ever would.
Reflection is still a scarcity.
This world takes too much time
From individual cultivation.
Kids see themselves through
All eyes but their own.
An honest look without a mirror.
A glimpse at inner roots embedded
Into the fine dust and heat of
Humanity.

Sour Apple

For the first time in my life
I'm hungry for a thing I cannot name.
Yeah, maybe it's love;
Maybe I don't get that jive.
Could be ambition, some nameless
Presence I might encompass.
Maybe it's the stagnation of
Lonliness. Hard work- being alone.
I bite the bitter part of a better life,
So someone else can get the sweet.
Truly, I'm the composition of a fool.
All my life a teammate, never the star.
Who's gonna look at me and light up?
Who would want this mess of a man?

Uncharted days lay dormant for
Footsteps reticent to press the ground
And be firm for once. Of their own
They may make a purpose yet.

I am breath malingering forward
Lazy, and with such effort at times;
You can gift the world, bright-mannered
And brimming with all your best,
But if you fall they all forget you.

Love has got to be
Some kind of fluid thing.
Seems like it always changes.
If you know me you'd probably think
That I don't know the first thing
About it; you'd be mistaken.
I have seen it's signature. I have
Felt it warm my nature.
But I know the cold spells as well.
I know what it means to lose
The warmth. Lost it much. Probably,
It was my fault. Likely I carved the gap
In every tender moment that
Could have been.
How do I apologize for of
Disruption and heartache? Where do
I begin, and how should I resume?
7'~~•|

*I fell asleep writing this and those last bits at the end were there in the morning when I awoke. I do not know how that happened.

Humanitae

Made a vow to myself long ago...
Swore I'd never settle for less
Than the absolute best
With love, and all other things
That matter.
I felt quiet love.
Thunderous at times,
But mostly a sigh in the late hour;
Timid gesture when it should have
Been bold.
I felt thunder always.
Knew she was a sweet girl,
But she roared like a lioness and
It shook me fierce until I gave up so
We broke.
And all the almost loves,
All the lovely inspirations I knew
Were worth every time
I was wrong; always wrong but I
Loved it.
What I mean to say is that
I forgot to human my meaning.
I lost how to nourish the roots of
Why I'm lost and detached.