Broken World

Love, the more you give, the more you get

She likes rain at midnight

The sound of wind through the tree’s

A train whistle in the distance

She likes lying in the be next to me

She loves the smell of the ocean

And the sound of breaking waves

We watch the sun go down together

On such a beautiful day

It doesn’t get any better than that

You got my heart baby, I’ve got your back

From sunrise, to sunset

Love, the more you give the more you get

The more you give the more you get

She likes when the leaves change their colors

As the seasons come and go

She picks wildflowers in the spring time

I build her a fire when it snows

Through the years we made a home

All those memories I recall

Through the good times and the bad

Together, we made it through them after all

It doesn’t get any better than that

I got your heart baby, you’ve got your back

From sunrise, to sunset

Love, the more you give the more you get

The more you give the more you get

Lets Fall In Love For A Minute

Stars burn out

Rivers run dry

People turn around 

Without saying goodbye

Thunder rolls

Lightning strikes

I’ll be your north star

You’ll be my guiding light

People say they love you, and then forget

Let’s fall in love, if only for a minute

Time goes by

Nothing seems to last

Tomorrow never comes

There’s no future, living in the past

Clouds shed tears

Mountains fall to their knees 

If the world stops spinning

I’d still need you here next to me

People say they love you, and then forget

Let’s fall in love, if only for a minute

Where No Ones Been

Where No Ones Been

When nothing seems to matter

And no one seems to care

Love leaves no trace

Autumn unfolds, naked and bare

What was it you said

As you turned and looked away

Come with me

Before we fall, and time fades away

Empty rooms

Empty space

No matter where I go

I always feel out of place

I know your scent

I know your skin

I know your touch

In those secret places where no one’s ever been

I swear I can hear your heart

I can taste your breath

If you’d only let me

I’d find you again between this life and death

Wherever you’d go

I’d follow you down

Through darkest of streets

Of the loneliest of deserted towns

Are you broken like me

Black and blue, painted sad

Letting go of all those little things

We could of had 

I know your scent

I know your skin

I know your touch

In secret places where no one’s ever been

Twilight

Forever forgotten
an empty chair 
at silent dinner table
China ware frail
Showing tiny fractures

Pious Stained window
from the back pew
of a prayer worn church
contrition on aching knee’s 
Quiet sobbing in the dark
 
midnight cars meander
rolling by in the distance
aimless forlorn headlights

The lonely bark of a dog at 3:05 am
The measured ticking of a incessant clock
Flickering starlight 
from Dying stars
forgive-less moon
chasing Blind skies
Waiting on a tardy sun
birth of twilight 
Shadows cast from dim windows
across dark silent bedroom walls

Rain drops against window panes
endless November nights
They say the world spins
But I don’t know
What to believe 

We are given no reasons
Holy books and funny papers
Knowing, that there is, no-knowing
What’s reality, what’s illusion
What’s it matter
we all must walk through the fire
And we do our best
To carry on






Soul Muscles

I wanted to be 
Understood
To be irreplaceable
But even the mightiest of loves
Is adrift between illusion and fantasy

The chasm too wide
The silence too deep

You wanted me to be whole
You wanted me to be confident
You wanted me to be stable
But I’m none of those things
I’m vulnerable, kind, sensitive
And there’s nothing worse then being gentle
In a world stilted on false bravado 

The world rewards 
Angry bitter people

Such people
Wear me out
Drain me
Suffocate me

I’d prefer my solitude

Ya see
To be a poet 
It requires that you have
Muscles in your soul

You told me to grow up
But I said why
The world’s full of fucked up grown ups

The road becomes too long
Time blurs
Love’s a vapor

I let it all go
I let you go
I was being dragged
So, I let it all go


The Phases Of Writing

1. Fame makes great writers drunks and madmen

2. Fame makes good writers self conscious and reclusive

3. Fame makes okay (commercial) writers rich and predicable 

  1. Anonymity makes horrible writers drunks and madmen.

Be advised, being a drunk and a madman does not make you a great 

writer—but sadly, it often comes with the territory, see rule #1 and #4.—

If you don’t find any of this shit helpful, then go live your life and write about what you hear, see and feel, then have a taco—-

Helpful Hint

“Try and make the pretty stuff sound sad and the sad stuff sound pretty—” V Uriz

Feel free to substitute your word of choice in place of the word “pretty”—depending on your mood—