Three (3) Poems. Only three. I made eight. You can see the other five (eight minus three) if you want. But It would take time. Because you'd need to eMail me, and wait for my response.

Why Never Again isn’t a good thing

I used to play an instrument

like it was a battle

like torturing

while my instrument sang

barely

just barely

Under the massive wave of cheering

screeching

across the room

But my time drew to a close

when those behind me grew impatient

“when is it my turn?

when can we get him off?”

and I stood up,

rounded the edge of the stage

and left

Perhaps,

one day,

I will look back

perhaps with a pipe in hand,

and an old wooden rocking chair,

and smile.

But then again,

odds are,

I won’t.

I would cry.

because

never again

will I return,

to that exact same spot,

play the exact same music,

with the exact same instrument,

for the exact same people.

And Never Again

will I hear that applause

Poem Poem

Two brothers met,

spoke,

flew beneath the glowing sun,

and left

before the fire came

And five of their brothers,

good, strong men

ran

desperate,

but three of their number

were fated to die

Those that stayed

they sang

of those who died

deserved to live,

and those who lived

deserved to die.

And those who left,

mourned,

beneath the glowing sun,

beneath guilt, anger,

but knew,

they deserved to live

just a much as those

who stayed behind.



In case you didn't know,
I'm listening.

What, my head is turned?
Is that a problem?
Can I only hear in this direction?
I think you can hear in every direction.

Oh, do I have my earphones in?
Don't worry.
I'm not playing music.
Mainly.
And anyway, I can still hear.

Am I doodling on my notebook?
Actually,
these are notes.
Unconventional notes.
I'm a visual learner.

So, am I talking to my friend?
Well.
Maybe I am.
Why?
Because, honestly,
my friend is a lot more interesting than you.
I do respect you.
You're just not very interesting.

So I'm justified!
If you want me to listen,
give me a reason to.
Jee.