The Shop Owners

And every day I go walking through the town square, y’know that tiny little market place we used to buy coffee in every morning before sitting on the edge of the marble fountain. Only now its a place of remembrance instead of love. Children don’t dance on the cool cobblestone at the sight of autumn’s changing leaves and friends just don’t seem to get along anymore. It’s all rubble and ash from the day the sky fell, and I know you didn’t mean to, but you ruined this beautiful home for all the souls to
come and you trapped so many hopeful ghosts within the falling brick. It’s such a shame you are gone as well, because the story sounds so much better when it can be told right, instead of by the buyers of Time and the sellers of forgotten Faith.

Happy Little Accidents

Dear you,

Thank you for the roses - they weren't for me, but somehow they ended up at my house in my room. They are beautiful, and even thought they have begun to wilt by now they brought me a sort of joy I have not known in a long while.

Thank you kindly for reminding me that what I do can actually help someone out there - even if we've never met.

Love,
M. Rene'

Just out of Curiosity

Has your latest dancer gotten better about stepping on your feet or did you let her go already?

Have you found anymore angels with bluebell eyes or am I still your only ocean covered mistake?

Were you able to find a new song for forever or was ours just some generic fit for every offbeat darling?

Gather Yourself Up, Babe

I long for a kiss of the flames
you left behind -

but

I don't need it.
I am my own

wildfire

roaring blissfully
somewhere only

the Northern lights
can see.

New Key Needed

And despite my refusal to remember you there is someone out there who will never forget you. 

Problem with the Close Minded

In the end, you were only ever just another beautiful letdown. . .

Bookmarks and Devils Lie in Between Dusty Pages

Flipping through books read too long ago
     to even remember the end
I find photographs of me in your arms
     and sheet music to the songs

you sang me to sleep with.

I find a pair of earrings and a condom wrapper
     slipping out of Chasing Brooklyn 
and I see ebony lace ribbons tied to
     our wristbands from the summer concert

where I noticed we were in love.

There always was something
     about us and books-
something in the way we made out
     in the library behind the stacks

and that time when we had midnight meetings
     just so you'd read me poetry
between the dew painted grass
     and stars filled with hope.

Flipping through books read too long ago
     to even remember the end
I find that nothing the ink records means
     a damn to me, now that we've rewritten

each and every page.

And you still have our books, don't you, Bloom?

Uncle Bart's Poem

With adventures ahead
and lessons lying in wait
may this year bring you
every ounce of joy.

With bravery and curiousity
laced in your every move
may you remember where you
are headed and where you've been.

With every fiber of my being
I wish for only glory
as you steadily march forth
on your journey.

How to Dry the Tears of a Hopeless Romantic

Just come over and watch a movie. Pull me close. Laugh with me at thunder. Kiss me in the rain. Dance with me in the street. Smile with me over nothing. Just let me believe it's one of those rare days in your life that you will never forget. Because I always feel my best when I'm with you.

A Knight of Penticals

Every time  draw this card, you show up.

So where are you this time, Love?