Trekking New Mountain Ranges

I loved you and you knew it too -


that's the only reason you keep

coming back to "check on me"


to -sit on my feet- and poke me

for the sake of conversation


when neither of our brains are

solid enough to entertain our


usual crowds of friends and fire

hazards. You considered reaching


out to hold my heart for a while

when we were too young to


understand the consequences of

distance and lies dancing along wires.


You were a beautiful stranger,

a faceless monster and now


we've both been reduced to magnets

for the taco craving, pancake flipping


bears that currently claim our minds.
    

Through the Fire

The walls missed you so much that they

started talking last night. You left such

beautiful words behind that they are

almost enough to make me forget

you ever even left at all.


The shadows started asking where

you are and silence echoed back

as one of those half baked answers

when no one's sure if its better to lie

or tell the truth for the other's sake.


The radio voice makes me sick

and the songs he announces are

too much to take now, because he still

loves all of our favorite songs more than

we ever could. You really do leave an

impression everywhere you go,


and it's good I'm getting ready to

leave these memories and haunted

halls because this place will never be

the same again.

Soothing Reminders

When you are scared or worried or upset, remember:


There are a million faces

in a million places

waiting for you to show

yourself and what you know.


Come with me

we'll set them free

just like they need

all humans freed.


From the demons past

and sorrow's blast

of powerful tears

that you taste for years


Come with me

leave this be...

we are stronger than this

stop neglecting the kiss.


It's simply life

absent is strife

as we go about the day

knowing we'll be okay.


Nothing to worry about,

no need to shout.

Follow me, you'll see

you too can be happy.


Come with me,

one, two, three,

somewhere I've found

a place safe and sound

Tickets Sold Out

And I will never forget the morning we sat in the coffee shop

with the rain slipping down the window panes beside us

paying the ticket taker all our extra cash for front row seats

to the Dance of Life that was our breakfast laid out on the table


steaming.


I can still smell the perfect Kenya beans with the smoke

waltzing away effortlessly. The slight pirouette of crumbs

skipping down my collar into my lap with the slightest brush.

I remember your tea doing the tango with sugar and cream

as you delicately stirred your concoction. You the scientist and I


the poetess.


I will never forget that Sunday morning down the street

waiting patiently for the grey skies to drift away (secretly hoping

that they'd forget how to run). That was the first time

you showed me off to the world with kisses on the nose

and whispered words tickling the sides of my face -

it was the morning I realized that we were not falling.


It was love.

The Way the River Flows

There cannot always be rainbows in the sky

otherwise they'd lose their beauty - their importance.


And every time it rains flowers are sure to follow

as they poke their pretty little heads up and out

from underneath their cozy blankets of grass covered dirt.


There is something enticing about fire

raging through dry brush in California summertime

that leads to springtime births of hummingbird friends

and birds' nests popping up like polka-dots dancing.


I know it melts the snow as winter begs not to die

and I'm well aware how leaves write the eulogy

so effortlessly as the days slowly countdown

to a new year - but only seasonally.


Sometimes, if we're lucky it can also be

emotionally. Like when moss covers stone

and cypress facing north only - until spring comes.


Sunshine blocked by windy days

and clouds stars die in our hands


as moonlight fades the way you did.


But darling, spring is here - finally


you can shed this skin and bloom again.

I Shall Walk Slowly There

I shall walk slowly there

with nothing left to fear

but Fear himself there is

no other thing to do

like such


however


light takes the tree over

by the fence singing beneath

the fullest moon ever seen


and Time screams

too softly to be heard

as Fear passes on to

a world completely

unlike this


yet


I shall walk slowly there

fearing only Fear ticking

seconds off one by one

listening to Time questioning

more than I

ever have


what shall become of us all

if moments continue

wasting away

like this

Giveaway Contest!

Alright, so today you're not just getting your dose of Learning to Fly poetry,  you are also being introduced to an opportunity! If you like the pieces you see here, you can see them ahead of time on Patreon.com using the link mentioned above OR you can even have an advanced and personalized copy of my latest collection - just for supporting my Patreon page (as little as a one time contribution of $1). This is not only a chance for you to stay in the loop but also a way for me to make up the difference I'm missing before being able to enter a couple of contests and getting into the Performance Poetry scene. And if you are a subscriber of my Patreon page, you'll be with me along every step of those journeys - at times you'll even be asked for feedback or see videos of those performances before anyone else (not including the live audiences at the time).

Thanks so much for reading, and for visiting as often as you do - I appreciate you more than you will ever know. Good luck and have a wonderful Wednesday! 

Thirteen Cents Short

No one said I was playing this song

here on the corner to make a living.


 I just needed an excuse to go

anywhere but home,. They sing

along to songs no one's ever heard

and your pocket change is all I need

for a new start.


I sell my soul for a penny a thread,

 a dime a note, a quarter a memory

and it's all I need to keep myself

from going back


to a homeless man's home.
 

The Photographer

And the ashes can't be forgotten

because people can't forget

what they've been taught is

important but others stand there

listening not understanding.


That's how i feel.


I keep a camera in my bag

at all times, I never like to miss

the things going on that manage

to make me smile. Children playing tag

in the street while moms make dinner

or the way petals hang just right on a rose.


Honestly, there's a rhythm to the world

that artist capture on film every day

and all I'll ever ask is that you give me

the chance to be like that.


It's not something you can search for

and find so easy; there's more to it

than that, there's the adventure of getting to

the moment, the right place at the right time.

i keep a camera by my side everywhere I go

in case I find the kind of beauty

I can only wish I possessed.


But really,

in the end,

it's not so bad

hiding

behind the

camera.

What was Left Behind

Your name gave color to my cheeks and now your jacket matches my eyes when I cry. 

Upon a Canvass

One tiny dip

into the paint

of soul.


Just one sip,

a little one

please.


Then I will

form a true

masterpiece.


A moment until

I will really

dance.


Colors of blue,

green, purple, and

pink.


To create you

within my life

again.


There's no heart

but lots of

pain.


Why'd we part

with so much

left?


I'm off to paint

another work of

art.


I'm no saint

but its for

you.

They Dance Alone

Late at night,

in the depths

of their darkness

they dance alone.


Each and everyday

they hide away,

so none see as

they dance alone.


They look this

way and that,

left and right,

they dance alone.


They are in love

though none can

know this fact.

They dance alone.


Like the tale

Romeo and Juliet

they must care

They dance alone.


One day they

will walk away

hand in hand.

They dance alone.


Until the day

they are free.

Every night

they dance alone.
    

Smudged Ink and Seven Digits

You have been reduced to nothing more than a phone call I could not make. And now that I think about it, that's okay. 

All I Really Know

Butterflies every time I see you

But I really don't know what to do,

My soul giggles a little bit

With you and our frieds do I even fit??


I thought you really couldnt stand me

Now I guess its jealousy I see.

Am I even worth the time,

Arent I just worthless slime?


This is all so crazy in my eyes

I qm used to pain, hurt, lies,

And I wonder how I got this

Almost kind of maybe bliss.


Let me just end this here,

I like you a lot my dear...

We Could

We could all have a chance to save the world...


If we learned to give out hope and cheer

instead of revenge and darkness, simply

because we ourselves are shattered


deep inside.


We could all do great things


if only we knew how to see the best

in those around us, because we're not

all made of devil spawn or heartache


we're human.


We could band together like when


The entire world reacting to an

earthquake in Haiti or Ebola outbreaks

in Africa, France honored America

after 9/11, Americans and Russians

liberated Jews from concentration camps,


simply beautiful.


We could all save the world if we did


just a little more than getting out of bed,

drinking coffee, reading the newspaper,

and thinking only about ourselves


each morning.
    

Where there's Strife

The sun can shine

or the clouds can rain -

but that flower

really takes away the pain.


You can love

and you can hate -

whatever you do

don't fight Fate.


The moon will guide you

the shadows will hide you -

you miss them

they miss you too.


You can laugh

and you can cry -

you need to know

I won't let you die.


The forest seems safe

or maybe it's just home -

whichever it is beware

cause you're not alone.


You can stay here

and you can run -

which sounds like

it would be more fun?


In the end

it's your life -

so you decide when

and where there's strife.

Waiting for Brooke

She tattooed a rose around her hips

with petals reaching up and blooming

above her breast. . .


People called her a thorn and liked to say

that she drank blood from the veins of

last night's lover for breakfast. They

pressed her petals between the soles

of their shoes and early morning dew


thinking she was just another flower.

Beauty wasted on no one special.


The stamen whispers goodbye

while the pistol screams a name

that belonged to a heart

she's never really known.


Every guy in town has seen the tattoo

they tell us there's more trailing

her curves, begging for kisses

or maybe just a little more love in general.


Someday, they'll all know


the truth behind the tattoo.

Welcome Home

Oh Hun, I've gone back to playing all your songs

and watching the shadows dance across floorboards -

revitalized by such memorable motions.


Apathy moved out and Sorrow bought the house

next door, so she and Joy could fool everyone

into believing that they are a happy couple

now that he's gone two months without cheating.


Hun, the walls won't tell me which songs

you sang to me when I was sleeping, but

they do ask me where you've gone this time.


I know my soul is accosted by the memories

but she has never been more beautifully so.

Oh Hun, everything reminds us of you and

everyone else misses you so much more

than you will ever know. - - -


And if you have found this

I still love you in ways

you will never understand.

Widow in Training

His tongue so full of

roses

remains aloof -


a mystery soved

long ago

but still misunderstood.


His tongue so full of

roses


left thorns upon my

bloodied lips

in that way I once

believed

only Summer could.

Wind and Whispers

Shame, shame you never listened

all that well, she said it every single day,


Wordless reminders and action filled phrases

she misses you as much as you miss her

if not infinitely more - I promise.


Shame, shame you don't listen

a little more, every night

she still screams your name
    

Writing Cows

Who knew cows could write?

I barely knew they could fight,

But I was ever so wrong

Cause here comes one singing a love song.


What is it, click, clack, moo

Or is it more like Dr. who?

What is this world coming to

Cause one day cows will be ruling you.
   

* A piece from 2012

Caught in the Bloodstream

Maybe if I'd have written more letters you'd have had a safe place to bleed out the poison and heal again after. 

Anti-Ode to a Spider

Anti ode to a spider

Oh, little spider,

how can you be so tiny

yet ever so scary?

Why are you always around

when nobody wants to see you?

On all my best days,

you show up and my heart races.

Oh, little spider,

how can you be seemingly

harmless yet ever so deadly?

Why is it I know fear

will do no good though I scream?

On the ground is where you belong,

not crawling up my leg.

Oh, little spider,

I will never be your friend.

And that's my anti ode to a spider



--- it's not exactly a birthday poem, but I figured I'd use it to wish you a happy birthday considering it's the moments like this that I miss most with you! And I hope you're doing well now anyway. 

Closer to the Final Puzzle

Even in my sorrow and loneliness, I am happier and more complete for simply having met you.

I hope the new people in your world make today something so much more than simply memorable. 

Enter the Cooler Days

Let those leaves fall as they may. There's more to the season than pumpkin spice or raking piles of discarded growth. Watch as countless new hues take over the world - find new names and emotions for all of them. Curl up with friends and family reading and painting and laughing warmly over coffee and apple cider. Leave the leaves be, they're just living the only way they know how. So are you. 

The World Already Ended

You claimed
that your mother
was a gypsy

while you were young.
You told me stories
from your adventures
with her and offered up
the fears instilled
within you by
your father.

You let me know
more about you
than anyone else
ever would.

Then you left
without any
sort of warning.

At least I know
where you got
that from.
I love those
gypsy ties
of yours.

And it's comforting
to think that you
won't be back,
prepared to deepen
these elaborate cuts
decorating my soul.

A Different Kind of Wonderland

I was walking through a rose garden, trying to lose myself so that I could find another piece of you, and these bright salmon roses reached out to the path whispering "Remember me." In that moment I knew I'd never find more of you because I already had more than anyone else. Even yourself.

It's funny though, I never imagined you as much of one for salmon or roses. 

Chinese Gardens: The Bridge of Fish and Joy

And as you walk across this bridge with me, feel the worries and doubts slip off your shoulders and dive into the pond below with each new step towards the other side. Know that by the time we touch the solid natural ground again, you have every opportunity to be a lighter (new) person. 

Desert Rose

Be the unexpected glimmer of hope or the brilliant splash of color in a dry and empty space. 

Whether Bonsai or Magnolia

Grow at your own pace. There is beauty even in the unconventional. It's time you embraced that. 

Better as the Sun Soaks in

I've been spending a lot of time with sunflowers lately.

They no longer break my heart to look at, but they do still spur my creativity every morning. 

Fresh Slate, New Month

Don't be afraid to set goals for yourself. Even if they seem out of reach at first - you'll be so much better off once you achieve them.

Besides, with goals in place, you never have an excuse to be bored.