a poem

can the esoteric
be generic
can the barbaric
be garish
id rather parish
in a parish
then flourish
with out a purpose
im nervous to share
the harder side of life
the good is so easy
a nice way to pass the night
but stryfe and conflict
strike more than covicts
unless a convict
is some average tom smith
the best of us
face the worst of times
and the rest of us
can be hard to find
in the shadow
where the cages rattle
the good guys battle
and the villians
well the villiians saddle
up for another night of mischief
and theyre in our lives
despite our deep wish
the gentle kiss of a lady
carrying a baby
can change the shady
or make a sane man crazy
and excuse me but maybe
we just need a break
step back from this life
its not how much you can take
and ive taken alot
im prepared for more
the struggles ive been through
left me prepared for war
and theres more in store
its a battle wore
on our sleaves and our hearts
were on our knees
please impart
a moment of peace
im begging you please
cure this disease
thats me being me
so this generic esotaric
stops this painful marriage
of words that will one day parish
so please just try to bear this
and give me patience love
or a gentle hug
cause i need to know
that what i am is enough

lessons

a writers pasture
should be a place where
ideas rapture
and capture
it like a picture
and make it clearer
like real life suspended
held in a mirror
and though thoughts
are not dependent
how it is said
is how its presented
and how its presented
displays how its meant
a lyric is dead
if not read
with what is said
held in mind
so people process
each line
and successes defines
what others may find
to be not excess
but a beautiful expression
an interjection
a random collect
the minds indescrection
on a lesson
a great idea
that takes possession
and i cant describe
the feeling of freewheeling
images
instances
where innocence
and experience
create something
mysterious
about a feeling
that lures us
endures us
and ill endure trust
if a writer must
but it must create lust
and produce intrust
so please pick carefully
and expose scarcely
those thoughts that barely
make you care free
and at the same time
make you say
"i scare me"

dear sister

how many times did we say good bye
and never say hello
how many opportunities did we take
to really get to know
each other
and some times a sister and a brother
despite their father and their mother
could to better for one another
but i know that theres still love there
though the hatered and the stryfe
used to strike like a hurricaine
but as the years have died
weve forgiven the pain
and im sorry i havent called
lifes so wild and confusing
even one thats as smart as me
cant deside if ensuing
choices will help or hinder me
plus so much shit with family
sis i cant begin to describe
but the bowers blood thats in me
it stores a wild ride
and how are things with you
the dog and significant other
or have you finally decided
its not better to be lovers
im gonna call soon sis
and ill read you this poem
to let you know i think about you
when im busy and alone
and though i wish we were closer
i know our bond is deep
and so this random writer
decided to put our love in ink