The Poet Enters

Awakened With A Shudder There is a chill and a feeling of fright It has been a cold evening, and a dark night The streets are empty, and cars are gone There are no kids, no toys on the lawn I awake in a shudder, of the silence around I rush for clothes, and scurry without sound This time of year, is supposed to have its scares The creeping and crawling; the awaking of fears So I hop into my car, and venture into the fray I must have forgotten, that this was a work day al brown

Sometimes the sides we choose, are the sides which cause us to separate.

Soft clouds, warm light, daggers of frost in the air Good food, great friends, making our way to the fair

If everything has and ending; how come mistakes seem to break the rule.

The words are both the tools and the material; let me build something worthy to behold.

Life is not without it's excitement and fun; you just have to be ready to catch it when you can, and be willing to let go when you must.

The heart reached for a ladder, and found one in the dark Loneliness was now soothed, and comfort made it's mark

To be cutting edge, you may have to offend Not so much that it is considered an attack Not so inadvertently that some will consider it a fluke. Bold enough to turn heads Yet, soft enough to open minds So, maybe I am just an edge that hasn't yet cut

Friends are where you find them; that's if you've forgotten how to make them.

I will shine in the glory of my words; and when the time has come, they will warm my soul.

I cannot create my own destiny, I can only do my part; I guess, that I should endeavor to do it well.

I don't know what to say, and even less how to express Do I understand too little, or comprehend without success

If you don't feel irrelevant enough; then we will have to expand the field.

Years have I written of the substance and pursuit of life Years have past; still unacknowledged in this artful vice

Only by sheer force of will, do I attend And for no pleasant purpose, I pretend

It would be noble to be judged by your profession; but really,  only by those who truly understand what comprises your profession.

The waves are often contrary; that does not mean that they are only against you.

Not every mountain is there for you to climb; so try to expend your energy wisely.

Not everyone will understand, not everyone will care; but maybe it will still matter to you and for those you wish for it to matter.

We can always make new memories; but there is nothing like the old ones.

Sorrow can be a warm fuzzy blanket of uneasy comfort; you are already sad, so what's to worry about?

Sometimes you need to take the time, to share some time.

It's not always a matter of time; occasionally it's simply a matter of principle.

The wind is hot and wet to the touch The storm is hard, and far too much Deep inside this weather is a strong force We are human and cannot change it's course

You may think that you do things for the good of others; but can you be sure?

The day is Hot, and the woods are deep, The shore is wet, and the rocks are hard Inside my mind, my thoughts do sleep My mouth speaks words, you should regard

The night is quiet, and so are my wishes I could hold you tight, but what about the dishes?

I am not always happy at the outcome; but at least I made it there.

When I was younger, I always thought life would be more fun.

We are not defined by our mistakes; we are defined by how we handle them.

A touch of chill, and the scent of spice Seasoning; close enough to be precise