Yes, I am aware.

I realize that there has been a lot of very bad poetry on my blog lately.  I'm really sorry. 
See, the thing is that most of what I've been writing lately has been slam poetry.  The catch is, most of it is only half finished.  What I have is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself, but, as it is half finished it is not ready to be posted anywhere.  So you'll have to make do with the spur of the moment rubbish I've been turning out lately.

Also, just in case you care, I've been writing a lot of other stuff lately.  Paragraphed studies of people and such.  Most of it is pretty lame. 

Also, just in case you're still reading and I haven't bored you to tears, I just got back from a six week vacation.  Actually, I got back about a week ago but that's a moot point.  I went to Africa.  It was... well, it was Africa.  I have different stuff written down somewhere but I'm too lazy to post it here.

Cheers.

Imagining

over coffee, my mug becomes a paper fan
and I am a Japanese lady
with my eyebrows plucked
and my hair drawn back
my face powdered whiter than snow.
I smile, hidden, safe behind watercoloured paper
You cannot touch me.
Imagining, till something snaps
deep down inside
I tumble through the darkest nights
searching through the dustbin in my soul for something real
Windmilling, finding nothing but nothing to break my fall
There's a point now, when, grasping everything around me
And holding things up to the light
Examining the artifacts of myself
I have to wonder
What is real and what is false
I'm a mystery, even to myself

Back Home

Well I'm back, I guess
From travels abroad
but home doesn't feel like home anymore
and I'm tired
from red eye flights
with movie screens
and airplane dinners
Well I'm back, I guess
from far away places
with sleepless nights
and pristine beaches
and I'm tired
from all the things I've seen
and may never see again
I'm back, I guess
but I'm not ready to be home
I'm not ready to do the things
I don't want to get done
I'm tired
just thinking
about all I must do
Now that I'm back.

To do before I leave

Packing my bags for a long trip I realize I'm not ready
I'll never be ready to find my way
In a world so buzy
So lazy
So crazy
I'm so tired of leaving this way
I know that I've got to give myself a vacation
Got to take a minute to pull back the curtain
And de-clutter my mind for a while
But I know that I never return with a smile
That's quite like the one I wore the first mile
I know that nothing ever works the way I want it to
And I know I'll toss and turn every night that I'm gone thinking of you
You drive my crazy
Mostly because I never imagined it could be quite like this
Living my life from kiss to kiss
I never thought I'd find love in a broken world, I swear
And I fear that I won't return in one peice
With my suitcase in one hand and my heart in the other
I swear I'll try to come home to you
But I know that I won't
Because as the plane takes it's first steps up the runway
I'll be changing
And every time I touch back down
Every time I turn myself around
With every wish you were here postcard I send
I'll be changing
And I won't be myself once I reach the end
I know.
But what's life without some changes?
Packing my bags with the things I won't need
I pull some underwear off the shelf
And I pray to a deaf, dumb, blind god for help
Where am I going?
Where will I be?
And what will I, what should I do with myself?
I pack more pens than clothes
More journals than socks
I carry my suitcase a mile
Just to put my belongings on trial
To see if they weigh enough
I'm so heavy
I can't walk another step
Can't take even one more breath
I'm so sick of myself
And the trains
And the planes
I'm tired of traveling alone
And I wish I could take you along
Every where I go
Every road I walk
I wish you were there with me
Every person I meet
Every meal that I eat
I wish you were here with me.
Packing my bags before a long trip I realize I'm not ready
Everything is in order, save my heart and my mind
I could leave today, but I don't know what I'd find
I don't think I can do this alone
You can't leave the gate if you can't open the door
I realize that I'm more afraid of my own backyard than I am of the sea
And I wish I could bring myself to walk outside
but there are a thousand things I'll have to get done
A thousand things I'll have to do
before I leave.

Your socks will be on the drier

Your socks will be on the drier
If you need them, that's where they'll be
Because I've finished the washing
I'll leave them on the drier, you see
They'll all be in the family room
talking about me
but their socks will be on the drier
and if they need em, that's where they'll be.
Your socks will be on the drier
they'll be waiting for you there
and I'll be having my morning cry
which will give you all quite a scare
but your socks will be on the drier
in the laundry room under the stair
Your socks wait on top of the drier
and if you look you'll find them there.
Your socks will be on the drier
I've finished giving em a good clean
The socks will all be on the drier
Though I fear I've made quite the scene
Your socks will be on the drier
It's the start of a brand new routine
In which I leave the socks on the drier
once the laundry's done and they're clean.