What is a world without the land and sea
And what is land without wildfire and flood
What for are plains and rolling hills to be
Without the shed of Gea’s children’s blood
They build, evolve, and spread as they begin
Erecting mighty towers as their homes
But what are cities without all the men
And what are men to be without their bones
As such we search and crawl along the ground
Like worms and snakes we slither to and fro
But what is lost can not ever be found
And still, by nature we will come and go
We cry for help but no sound will come out
For we all clasp our hands over our mouth

O, I am not myself, we are two minds
Ever in analysis, one scrutinizes the other
The second is of another kind
So impulsive, a fool, but a brother
That scrutiny is what separates the two
A scrutiny, reserved only for one’s own
A game of self blame, but compromise comes true
When I just kinda do whatever sounds good
And it’s all justified cause it’s meta
Maybe some time later, I’ll suss this out 
Spittoon, four syllables, poinsettia
If you couldn’t tell I’m getting burned out
Well now it’s all ruined, become some meme
At least I should maintain the rhyming scheme 

Coughing on the smokestack pipes
She bleeds and sputters out orange, red, yellow fringed with purple
As she falls to sleep after her day of injury, she blackens and the silvery pinpoints shine through her holed sheet 
Centered is a big gray mass
She wakens and coughs up her colors again, this time they fade to blue
On and on
Undulating, just a dying background to the little actors’ meaningless lives

As I speak manically
The words spew forth
My mother laughs hysterically 
And her eyes roll north
This poem is superfluous
Why can’t it be over
But I think it is beauteous
It rhymes moreover
This is a feast
A verbal explosion
Don’t encourage the beast
Or your mind will have erosion
I am officially a poet 
And did not before know it

With endless despair in gaping wide
An incorrect judgment has mistook
Seeing guilt that obscures my tide
As I reel for a chance to look
For this endless pit thoust only guide
And maybe I can find a right
As I cannot undo what I tried
By a reservoir to misdoings by night

From darkened pitch of sweeping black
I may see what though this dye
Some off flung ledge leaning to back
A smoky sight hard to make eye
I try to imagine what I may not see
As I cannot fathom what is to be

There is a little dude who lives at home.
He stays asleep sixteen hours a day. 
Sometimes he ventures outside to roam, 
There he rolls around and finds birds to chase. 
Eats the same food that he’s had for ten years.
But every evening he eats it like cake.
Maybe life is boring, maybe it's weird,
Might be amazing, so much more to say. 
After all, I am not a cat, only
A person who imagines his own days. 
There is one thing for sure I know fully:
You make days brighter, in every way, 
If we could both speak, I’d say in a rush,
Thank you little dude, I love you so much.

The chilly autumn air bites at stale dust
old oak door, the world forgotten and lost
crisp gusts of icy wind meet marble must
inside calm fights against odd outside frost
 
stories once told of a bright knowledge spring
long since faded to a dim winter lone
clocktower ticks on, rusty bell chimes ring
the last of cold monuments etched in stone
 
all that’s left are ghosts, books with worn down spines
skewed and scattered pages tattered and torn
silence sings loud, no one to hear the signs
echo in the walls, siren song forlorn
 
mice skitter about, a bird calls in fright
stained glass palace lost the last of its light

To love and lose someone is a disease.
The heartbreak can leave your stomach churning
Puts hatred in old lovers hearts with ease
Overcomes passion that was once burning.

The hurt’s vision clouds with love’s flame’s exhaust,
Destroying their soul with a virulent flu.
Uproots others lives and create lines crossed
Leaves chaos and division in its rue.

Love provides an everlasting heartache.
When betrayed, can make the broken fearful,
Once found, it is forgotten it can break
Numbing hearts and power to be cheerful.

This bewildering invisible pain.
Love can turn the most clear headed insane.

I stare at the sky on this quiet night
The stars gleam at me, rendering me blind
How great they are, shining so very bright
“Insignificant” seeps into my mind
 
A single speck, an ant, that’s all I am
In this infinite plane of life we adore
But we’re unloved in turn; the cruel world’s scam
No man, no god, knows what we are made for
 
Yet the stars still shine, light guiding us on
What for? To find love and open our hearts
That is our purpose, that fate’s stars have drawn
The universe binds them, never to part
 
Grounded by gravity, tethered by love
The stars in a way are just like us