The poet waited for his praise
with long minutes ticking by
Thoughts of accolades and gold
teardrops in their eyes

There was only criticism
No rich and hearty praises
No one said that's great!
There's no back at you, or cute phrases

Saddened by the response
He was a such a wreck
He was totally disheartened
Put a rope around his neck

He jumped off from the ladder
hands behind his back
There were cheers from in the gallery
"He was just a hack!"

Sitting with feelings
A room with four walls
Cracked plaster ceiling
From which the dust falls

Frightened paralysis
Manic discord
Dark hiding hole
Or a fleeting reward

Give it a night
Then give it a day
Give it a week
When there’s naught left to say

Taste disappointment
Which spoils my cup
Spirits are down
But I’ll keep my head up

Ever long we amble
Ensnared by destiny
Endless little outcomes
Yet our will is free

When life just doesn't seem fair
When you think they don't care
When you feel that you are alone
When all hope seems to be gone

You have to hold your head up high
Keep going and never ask God why
Even when you fail again and again
Remember, it isn't over Until You Win

Consumed within the quiet
I fail to notice death arrive
he drove a chariot from hell
yet I felt no fear inside

As I climbed aboard
I shed my earthly dress,
a shroud of stardust glided
down across my breast

As we started moving
I asked where we would go
but the twenty horses pulling
they looked to me to know

I didn't see us take off
these beauties pulled so slow
death said he wanted me
to once more see and flow

I HATE what you’ve done to me!

“Oh, but it made you stronger”
No, FUCK that!!

You abused me
mocked me
shamed me
betrayed me.
You liar!
You cheater!
You’re hateful in all that you do

I wish I’d never met you
I wish you didn’t exist!

The way you purse your lips when you’re mad
And laugh in my face when you hurt me
It makes me sick to my stomach.

You used me for your own image
and knocked me down until I had nothing,
no one but you.

For the longest time now, I have worried over nothing,
With a mindset that beleaguers me and leaves me rather flat.
It's a feeling that belies a deeper problem than I realize
And it never leaves me happy or contented where I'm at.

I worry like a worrywart who lost the art of happiness
And sit in my depression when I'm losing all control.
But I have a saving element to mental stature relevant
In elevating levels that relieve my very soul.

Am I out of my league
Are my poems too long
Should I burn them or fling them away
Poetic fatigue
Has me drowning in song
With visions that won't go away

I read and I read
And try to belong
To a club that esteems one with praise
I breathe and I bleed
whether rightly or wrong
And cast myself down in a daze.

Am I too short on stature
Are my poems too weak
Do bush poems even count anymore
I'm caught in contracture
with muscles so meek
is my genre subconsciously poor

The future of our world
Lies entirely in our hand
We will create the future
We decide what will stand

Our hearts may be bleeding
But we still have a responsibility
To make the world a better place
For ourselves and others to be

We might not have chosen this
But we are on the battle lines
We have the power to change it
We can rearrange the signs

They will say it is impossible
They say we won't get far
Yet we determine what to do
Together, we can Rewrite the Stars

I sit here eyes brimming
with the light of the cosmos,
I remember our first kiss
soft as a flannel flower,
I will never stop loving you

Crystalline tears fibril my face
whimpering I crumple inside,
I kept a part of you in me
everywhere you are is here
covertly I yearn for us

Six foot four of funny faces
and here we are streets away,
it may as well be a million miles,
we're confined in our broken oaths

If my tears were goodbye letters
Dad, I'm sending ten thousand more
If my heartache were an operetta
Dad, I've written a million scores

If waves of grief crash and dump me
Dad, I'll paddle Tsunami's to shore
If I could turn back time and space
Dad, I'd fly you right to my door

If the stars were openings to heaven
Dad, I'd blast with SpaceX and I'd soar
If my singing could reach your ears
Dad, it's vibrato would be heard in Timor