Albany Street (Poem)

Albany street

Out of sight and out of mind

Here I sit upon my ledge

Time stands still in a city that sleeps

The air is filled with the sounds of silence

Hustle and bustle of everyday life

At night all that at once subsides

The odd passer by worn out from their day

Lovers reunite, Hands intertwined.

The trees sway slowly to the rhythm of the breeze

Finally they can enjoy the peace

They see it all, see much more than me.

The wind is sharing their whispered stories

How important am I? How important are we?

No more noticed than a tall dancing tree.

Is being seen in this life what it means to succeed

or shall we to just sway peacefully?

Humans have to get every last word

isn't that really quite absurd?

Who will remember just what you say

once the sky fades slowly to gray?

Every day ends the very same way

Quiet and simple, the night swallows its pray

At the end of your time you will also disappear

The trees will still whisper your name in the air

"Well, shit" (Poem)

Hey, you. You make me smile.
Come lie with me for a while.
Hey, you. I gotta say
I think about you every day.
I'm telling you that I like you
maybe you could like me to?
This is hard to confess
but feels so good to get off my chest.
Anticipate your reply.
Feel so nervous I could die.

"Well, shit"

I frown down at your abrupt text.
Did you forget to send the rest?
What the hell does it even mean?
Most abstract thing I've ever seen.
Is this a display of grief?
Are you thinking I'm a creep?
Maybe your implying I left it too late
If only you hadn't found a new date.
Perhaps I've taken you by surprise
Or you're irritated that I lied
Is this information fresh to you
or is it something you already knew?
Do you need time to reflect
or is this the only response i'll get.
This is not the closure I was after,
meeting you was a disaster.

Secrets (Poem)

Secrets

I wish you'd talk more; you pray I'd talk less.

You hate that I smoke; I loathe how you dress

You think that I'm pretty although you won't say

I'm sorry. Your eyes, they give you away.

I use the word 'cute' to describe things a lot.

You're quick to inform me that 'cute', things are not.

I may over use it at times, I admit.

But you really are cute and not just a bit.

I love holding your hand when no ones around

Sneaking off to bed without making a sound

Secrets are fun and they keep us alive.

When this comes out it may live, it may die.

I am not certain with the way that I feel

But you make me smile a smile that's real.

What started out as a silly drunken kiss

Has turned into something I would surely miss.