Technical Writing & Random Thoughts

 

Old (& not particularly good) Poetry


The Brutality of Youth - The First Words :1991-1994
Vanity - Product of a Public Education :1995-1998
The Resident Muse - The Coffeehouse Era :1999-2000
Post Education - The Hardcore Haze :2001-2002
Overworked - Reflections On A Lesser Existence :2003-2006
Daily Missives - The Poem of the Day Collection :2005-2007
Sweet Dreams And Other Fictions :2008-

 

The Heart Will Die As Well

I create
This beautiful fantasy
Though these four walls
Still surround me.

No windows will allow
Those passing by 
To see inside,
And no doors will 
Send me fleeing.
Though I’ve found
A thousand
reasons to hide. 

I look into the mirror
Only once a day.
But the girl
On the outside
Is never there
Anyway.

I believe 
she’s been waiting
Just outside the frame
For me to wake, and
Remember my own name.

Old gods 
Are forgotten, 
Cast aside to make 
Room for the new-
But every time
I forsake myself,
I find the only thing
That stays the same
Is you.


The Scales Stand Empty
Stillness
The Weight of This Endeavour
There is Comfort In the Familiar
Spoken Clearly
Synchronicity
Syntax
1986
0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13... Go!
A Boy Like You
A Frightening Aberration
A Game of Truth Beneath The Stairs
A God For the Monkeys
The Golden Song
A Humble Obligation to These Worn Soles
Things I Have Destroyed
A Warm Place to Sleep
A Well Timed Dance
All Calls on Hold
Thicker Than the Blood of a Dying God
Angels, Demons, and Other Inside Jokes
Because They Couldn't Understand
Beyond The Eastern Shore
Caution: This Vehicle Makes Frequent Stops
Company Kept
Curtain Falls
30 pts And Rising
Default
Desire
Disavow
Discount
This Is Not A Test, This Is Only An Emergency
Exhibit
Fuck You, Ea!
Hide & Seek
Honorable Mention
I Dream Electric
I Told The Truth, And Got Kicked Off The Plane
If You Can Guess My Name
Indeterminacy
r e c a s t
Red Is All I See
Over My Shoulder
Invisible To The Naked Eye
Must be Something in the Water
It's Called Stalking, And You Should Stop
Know When
Singularity
Sleeping With Scorpions
Last Night
Remains Nameless
Residuals
A Sacred Loathing
Minor 7th
-11
Minutes of Calm
Misconception
More Than Edible
Pensive
Nature of the Business
2am, Game Over, No Continues
One In, And One Under
One Of Those Days
One Was Never Enough
Only The Sound of the Rain
Outside Looking In
Peculiar Intervals
Second Door on the Right
Placemat
Preclusion
Presage