Please let me know what you think of any or all of the following poems (all criticism and comments welcome from above the 2 year old level)…..

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I sit on this couch, turn off the lights, watch the storm…

The skies are filled with my mind in another form.

But I’m not God, not even close – we’re not on speaking terms these days.

He got heaven, and I’m left with the change.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Uncle eyeball used to suffer

in forbidden gardens covered over

with the fantasy of excess.

He no longer wears the scarlet letter

but it no longer matters

age has put the harvest beyond reach.

Now every open flower

seems a few perspectives farther away

than he can almost stand.

But next to him is imagination

the talented, subtle, double agent

destined to serve him well.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When it crashes down around you,

it’s not when you expected it,

because it wouldn’t have been a crash

without the surprise element.

Without the panic and open mouth,

it would have just been a bit unfortunate.

So the true disaster tiptoes up

and then laughs and slams your face in it.

You can look for purpose or reason,

but don’t invest too much.

There is no universal fairness,

and optimism is just a crutch.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You think you are free but you’re not.

Freedom’s just not getting caught

taking and using, stealing and doing,

and having what other folks want.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I sat down to write this poem,

I had a million things to say.

But now I’m just chewing on my pen,

all the words just ran away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

For a lack of gentle affection

I grow violent

Screaming even louder

Than the heavy metal killing my car speakers

It feels good to ride the darkness

Even though it’s shallow and fake

The rhythm is more reliable

Than the reality of unreasonable relationships

What would it be like to be truly understood

I’m forced to be hypothetical

Trapped by desire and decisions already made

I hate the damn one-way sign

The anger sooths for now

But it’s not going to last long enough

I’d scream again

But it would already be contrived

My emotions are what you’d see in a toilet

Paper, rock, scissors, mind beats heart

Sanity is only an unanswered question

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not long after I think I’m over you,

I end up staring at myself in the bathroom mirror-

Hating what I see for even letting myself be taken like this.

I am the world’s biggest ass.

The most famous fool.

Everybody knows who you’re fucking,

while you hand me the same old feel-good cover stories.

I try to remind myself it doesn’t matter anymore,

but I guess we’re both liars.

You know I’m almost ready to die for this?

Can you picture me standing here in front of the mirror,

watching my lie of control shatter?

The violent desire to end it all is so fucking huge-

who the hell am I to argue?

One offhand comment from a random common friend

and the image of you opening your legs for someone else

consumes me with a bitter hatred I can’t even describe.

Mine!

God damn it, you were supposed to be mine.

And you twist the knife,

by not understanding why we couldn’t work it out.

Can’t you see what has happened to me!?

I might as well kill myself because I’m already dead.

Betrayal and humiliation and reality have killed my faith

in anything worth struggling for.

There’s no point anymore.

I write even this in some vain attempt to share,

but nobody’s listening.

Nobody ever really has.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I was somewhere younger than ten,

I found death in the weeds at the edge of a parking lot.

At first it seemed like just a lost baby bird.

How is a kid supposed to recognize the apathy of the Universe

when Spiderman and Superman always set things right?

Doesn’t the Hall of Justice protect this world?

Bugs crawled underneath the feathers,

but I ignored them and carried it home, dad would know what to do.

I was helping to beat the bad guy!

It was hard to understand when dad said it was hopeless,

That the bird was as good as dead, and nothing could change it.

That day, more than a baby bird died.