I Will Not Fight In the Shadows

From a safe distance

 

Anxiety sets in

As my sweaty clenched fists

Cross in front of me

 

I seek refuge

 

In my mental isolation chamber which

Distances me from opportunity

While comforting me from possibility

 

Leaving me

Straight jacketed by my own fear

 

My attempt to lash out

Is silenced by my harsh judgment

Knowing it will only showcase my insecurity

 

Therefore

My mind must dissect you

From across the room

 

Beginning at your legs

 

For arm’s length

Is far too close

 

During an unsuspecting battle of wits

 

The next thing

I know

We are shaking hands

 

Saying “It is nice to meet you”

 

 

 

Genesis

Worry and fret

Get stashed

In the bedside table

 

The darkness

Of the late hour

 

Makes your blurred vision

Temporally meaningless

 

Fighting with your eyelids

Just stalls your reality

From your date with fantasy

 

With your external senses

In dire need of rest

Your mind relaxes and explores itself

 

This is when the best ideas come

Free from pragmatism and structure

 

Every night I make a deal

With the Sandman

 

Exchanging half baked poems,

Delusions of grander and possibilities

 

For a one way ticket

Down the rabbit hole

 

The swap over tired musings

That make inventors wealthy,

Authors captivating, and crazy people

Just that

 

For a restful sleep

And a return to the ordinary

In the AM

 

So next time,

Try to barter with your nighttime friend

Maybe your eye crusties

 

Might just be the genesis for your next poem

 

Fall of a Season

The Alluring acidic aroma

Of decomposing leaves

In a sidewalk gutter

 

Hangs sweetly

As a chilled nose

Inhales

 

Mother Nature’s perfume

 

Ohh

 

What a great excuse

To practice our ratio of

Powdered hot chocolate mix

To heated milk

 

The nectar

Of frost bitten mornings

 

The blend of sunny

Cold days

 

Allows us to appreciate

The warmth outside while it lasts

 

The night lingers

Longingly

Into your morning commute

 

The sounds of your tires

Demolish tricolored leaves

Making a perfect eulogy

 

To the end of an Indian summer

 

 

Sugar Coated

One of my gifts

Is best served cold

 

If you inhale my gift

Your brain will freeze

 

If you let it linger

It will melt

 

Sticking to everything

While attracting flies

 

If you use the wooden stick

Provided to you

You will receive splinters

 

If you use a spoon

I pray your tongue freezes to it

 

I can dish out 3 scoops

Of rocky road

 

Before you even realized that

You got served

 

I am like a diabetic entrepreneur

Ice cream truck driver

 

Only a single taste

Of my own medicine

 

Leaves my decayed teeth trembling

And frozen in my Moose Tracks

 

 

The moral being…

 

Before you could dish it out

It must have been forced down your throat.

 

Spring

Where else is it

Socially acceptable

 

To dress

Half naked

 

While replacing

Warm layered clothes

 

By sunscreen

Shorts and

Smiles that form organically

 

Relaxing

 

Sleeveless

 

Pant less

 

Flip flopping along

 

Your soul hanging

Between

Your toes

 

Exposure to the untamed earth

Is worth the burn

 

My freckles sing

The song of Spring

 

To Do List Write this poem

If you sit

With the boredom

Accept it

Something more

Meaningful

Will come

 

The best moments

In life

Are not on a daily to do list

 

Life is light

Take joy in

 

Lists lock in your life

Your present

Becomes a chore

 

Possibility is cut off

When you are always rushing

Towards the completion of

The next task

 

I have been getting

Far too much done

These days