I've learned....

I`ve learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.

I`ve learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assho!es.

I`ve learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.

I`ve learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you`d better have a big willy or huge boobs.

I`ve learned that you shouldn`t compare yourself to others - they are more screwed up than you think.

I`ve learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you`re finished.

I`ve learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities.

I`ve learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades, and there had better be a lot of money to take it's place!

I`ve learned that 99% of the time when something isn`t working in your house, one of your kids did it.

I`ve learned that the people you care most about in life are taken from you too soon and all the less important ones just never go away.

The science of heart-break....

I had visions of our future. They were as clear to me as a 60 inch HDTV screen. In my visions we shared a life-long happiness. We had the kind of romance that you read about in the pages of great literature. In my heart of hearts I believed that someday it would be so.
Alas, as much as I tried, I could never get her to see my vision; to share in my reverie. Now she dreams of another, and I am forced to accept that my dreams were nothing more than foolish delusions.

Is it possible to ever really give up on a dream? Can you really stop hoping?

For the past 5 years I've sent my heart speeding toward one singular ambition. Now I must make it stop, or change direction. But Newton’s Law states that an object in motion will stay in motion unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. What force is more unbalanced than love?
One force that keeps objects from being in perpetual motion is friction. Friction is caused by a molecular attraction between materials - or people. One of the side-effects of friction is that it generates heat. The more friction you have, the more heat you will generate.
Needless to say, it will take a lot of friction to give up this hope, this vision that I have. That heat sensation is what I feel in my chest right now. The burn of trying to bring my heart to a screeching halt. Can you see the sparks?

I apologize...

...for the incredibly bad poetry I've been writing lately. It's just that I love her dearly, and I want so badly to show her how much.

Run

I run
I run far and fast
I run 'till my lungs are aflame
'Til my legs won't take another step
'Til my chest won't stop heaving
I'm not running for pain
I'm running from it
I run
I run 'til the pain from running
Overruns the pain of her not loving me

She To Me

She pleases me
She appeases me
She eases me
She teases me
She pleads with me
She sees thru me
She leans on me
She agrees with me
She disagrees with me
She's a gentle breeze to me

She percieves me

She frees me

She recieves me
She believes in me

Haven't thought of a title yet....

I'll do whatever I can for you
Buy every piece of land for you
But then I'd have a fear of giving you
Too much to take care of you

I could fly to the heavens and catch the moon
But I might cause the sun to come up too soon
I could entice the shining stars
I could take each one and put them in jars

But of what benefit am I,
If I take the light from your sky?
What if I picked enough flowers to fill your room,
Would I still be outside filled with gloom?

I could scoop up all the waters of the sea, clear and cool
But what good are the crashing waves in a silent pool?
So what, my love, can I really do
To prove that my love is true?

I could steal your heart, if I tried hard enough
But wouldn't theft defeat the purpose of love?
To wholly give your heart to another
Without disguise or sly cover

Who knows the songs that a caged bird sings?
For a caged bird cannot spread the song without wings
I'll leave you to love whom you will, my dear
In hopes that your heart's own gravity will pull you here

Do I dare?

Do I dare hold you so close to my heart?
Do I dare hide these emotions until we part?
Do I dare reach to touch you and watch you pull away?
Do I choke on my feelings as I turn and walk away?

How can I show you my feelings are true?

You're here in spirit... your heart is gone
And now my soul feels so alone
The person you once were seemed to go away,
I do in my heart hope she returns someday.

The tears that run down my cheek
So sweet, so shy, so meek
So, Kerri, if you hear my cry just know
With your heart my soul will go.

By Myself

"You and she will never be."
That's what I told myself
And before I caught the thought
I sought to control myself
I cried like I died inside
So I tried to console myself
No one here, no one near...
My own arms to hold myself

To Dreamer

Dream, Dreamer, as you lay across this silken bed
And I'll lay here beside you counting the hairs on your head
Soft melodies willl resonate thru the room like a drum
I'll sing to you the words I know, and the rest I'll hum

Pondering 'Her'

I study life in the dark
Smoky apparitions imparting wisdom
Answers to queries unknown
Complications are simplified

I hypothesize. I theorize. I assume. I know. Then I don’t…

Expectant with ‘Her’, I am…
Wishing I could abort
Can she love me?
Maybe she’s concealing it

I’m solitary in my affections
An underpinning to disaster
Attempts to run end up in futility
So I try to mask it in anger

Providence always reunites us
She takes one step toward me
And I go running to her
I hate myself for loving her

So what do I do?
Does this tragedy have an ending?
Is the story still being written?
Do I really want it to end?

Miss me? I want you to

I want you to spend the rest of your life missing me
I want you to miss kissing me
I want you to not be able to breathe without me
I want you to lose sleep; when you do sleep - dream about me
I want you to get robbed; I want you to lose your job
I want you to feel a shock every time you touch a door knob
I want your knees to get weak and you can't walk without me
I want your friends to call you every day and talk about me
I want you to never be happy with another
I want you and happiness to never find each other
I want you to hear my voice thundering in your head
I want you to call everyone you love by name instead
I want your hair to fall out; I want your soul to call out
I want you to come up short even when you go all out
I want you to live a long life wishing you could die
I want you to not have any tears, yet wishing you could cry
I want you to cry, then hate yourself because you cried
I want you to feel exactly how I feel inside

The LaKetha File...

I put you in my past. In a little filing cabinet that we all keep in the back corner of our brains, behind the "L" tab. Just one of the many memory files that I wish I didn't have.
You like to refer to me as your best friend. I'm flattered by that, but I wouldn't say we were best friends. Yes, we had good times and memorable conversations, and I was a good friend to you. But I ended up being hurt... I masked the pain. Maybe that's why you think we were best friends.
Do you think you were a good friend to me? Did you ever come visit me? Did you ever choose to spend time with me, rather than HIM? Remember my 25th birthday? Who were you with that night? A good friend, indeed!
I remember the last time I saw you. You said that came to say goodbye to us. I remember watching you two embrace at the end of the driveway. I remember you smiling as he whispered softly in to your ear. I remember swallowing the lump in my chest when I realized that you didn't come by to say goodbye to me.... just him. I just happen'd to live there.
So after years of not pulling your file, you pop back up on the radar with a call outta the blue. You've changed... You're a different person now. I can hear it in your vernacular. A better person, and happy too. I'm glad to see life treating you so well. I'm glad to see that your son is growing into a fine young man. I really am... Say what? You talked to HIM a few days ago? Really? I'll update your file and stick it back behind the "L" tab in a cabinet I call my past, and there you shall remain.

On The Eve Of My 3rd Decade....(Feb 5 is my b-day)

3 score and 9 months ago a couple of teenagers laid down together and conceived me. 3 decades and some change, I'm sitting here typing words. A lot of shit has happened in between... Some good... Some bad... Some too terrible to describe! Overall, I must say that life has been good to me. It's a race; and while I'm not ahead of the game, I'm still in a position to win if I have a strong kick toward the end.

Like most of us, I do have regrets. Hell, I have a bunch of 'em! Most of my regrets fall under the umbrella of the only two serious relationships I've ever been in. Melony was my first love. Aimee was the most recent... I should be married to one of them, but I fucked up both of them. I swear if I could go back to that night at The Renaissance when Natalia asked me if I had a girlfriend and I said "No"....

Other regrets usually relate to my work ethic, or lack thereof. Procrastination is a disease!! Fortunately, God saw fit to bless me with above-average intelligence, and honestly, it's the only reason I've come this far in life. Combine my brains with a desire to bust my hump and I'd be a real American success story! Instead, I'm just another under-achiever with bad credit.

Looking back on 30 years I still feel as if there's so much to learn about life. Most of the time I feel like knocking the hell out of a 20-something who thinks he/she has wisdom. I remember being that way. If they only knew how dumb they sound...

I sometimes wish that someone would invent a time machine that would allow me to go back and tell my younger, dumber self to do/not do certain things. But knowing me, I wouldn't have listened anyway. So fuck it! I am what I am...

Looking toward the future... 

Warning (My 1st Post)

You smarty-arty folks might wanna read this...

I am not a writer. I am not a journalist, nor do I consider myself an "artsy" type. I am not really all that deep or complicated. I am just a guy.

I don't have anything profound to say. I don't have any lofty aspirations of trying to leave my mark on the world. I don't have an eclectic taste in music or fashion. I don't have an extensive knowledge of the arts. I don't even have decent credit!

I have a "baby-momma"... just without all the drama. I have student loans to pay back. I have people at work that get on my nerves! I have a son that I love dearly. I have regrets. I have things that I really don't give a shit about. I have a car in desperate need of an oil change.

So if you were expecting to read something deep and stimulating; I'm sorry to have wasted your time. You see, I am just a guy, like millions of other guys... You smarty-arty folks should probably stop reading now.