Contents50 poems
Love and Longing
The ones written toward somebody.
p. 01Come Live With Me and Love MeCome live with me and love me.
The only thing I ask is that you outlive me,
so I never have to live another day without you.2026- p. 02LoveDear All,
Please deliver this love letter
and tell her that she has made my life
and my family's life better
in more ways than I can possibly catalogue.
And know, without you
our love would have never blossomed
into what it is today.2026
p. 03The Rhythm and Shape of Our LoveThe rhythm and shape of our love
will forever be gilded in my mind.
Hush…
I do not regret my past.
It was a beautiful journey,
a season of laughter,
of longing,
of becoming.
Though time has carried us
along different roads,
the beauty remains.
It lives quietly
within my subconscious,
not as a wound,
but as a golden thread
woven into the fabric
of who I am.
I do not cling to yesterday.
I simply honor it.
For love, once freely given,
never truly disappears.
It becomes part of the rhythm
of the heart,
echoing softly,
long after the music has ended.2026
p. 04Who Is This?Who is this? I said,
with such energy and curiosity.
Your voice so soothing,
and such an amazing tone.
Your loving gestures, your politeness —
it was all so highlighted to me.
When you came along,
I was not ready for you to come along.
You just gradually stepped
right into my heart.
I was like, wow, who's this?
My eyes were full of curiosity.
And then I met your personality.
Your voice so warm,
so friendly,
so encouraging.2026
p. 05Her Eyes Were as Blue as the OceanHer eyes were as blue and deep as the ocean.
Her smile was like the sunrise
off the glimmering ocean water,
the comfortable feeling you get
when you are excited to see her.
It's like the sky starting to light up
before it appears.
It's that excitement.
It's the best part.2026
p. 06Somebody Who Lives in My HeadIt's hard to break up with somebody who lives in my head.2026
p. 076:30 a.m.6:30 a.m.
That's when the sky starts to wake up —
quiet, steady, no noise, no pressure.
The real moment isn't the sunrise.
It's everything that comes before it.
It's 6:20 a.m. I'm not alone.
I'm with Mother Ocean,
waiting for her beauty to appear.2026
p. 08Nervous LoveI only tried out for the part
because I thought you wanted my love.
You made me nervous with your presence.
Is this a nervous love, or nervous energy?
Love is love.2026- p. 09Forecasting a Vision of UsI sometimes would think of the future with us,
wondering what the rest of my life would be like.
Forecasting a vision of us.
You wrote me greeting cards.
Told me you loved me.
Oh, I feel so warm now.
This makes me happy.2026
- p. 10That SmileThat smile stretches from ear to ear,
like it knows something the rest of us don't.
Those bright blue eyes,
steady, warm, impossible to ignore.
With hair that catches the light
somewhere between dark and gold,
you don't just walk into a room,
you change the temperature.
Tell me…
do you always carry that kind of presence,
or did you bring it just for me?2026
- p. 11Nothing You Can Do About ItI love you and there's nothing you can do about it.2026
- p. 12The List Is Long, but DistinguishedThe list is long, but distinguished:
the reasons I love,
the ways you've touched my days,
the soft echoes of your presence
that follow me like light.
Every thought of you
adds another line,
another quiet truth —
beautiful, undeniable.2026
- p. 13A Light I've Never Learned to NameYou carry a light I've never learned to name,
a brightness that even time
seems too shy to touch.
And though our days were written
in different chapters,
I find myself pausing in yours,
grateful just to read the way you shine.2026
- p. 14One Dream to BorrowIf I had one dream to borrow
from the quiet hours of night,
it would be the simple wish
that time had drawn our lines
a little closer.
Not to change who I am,
nor who you beautifully are —
only to soften the distance
that the years sometimes create,
to let our stories meet
on the same page.
But even as we stand
in different seasons,
I find your presence
a warm and welcome spring,
a reminder that connection
isn't measured in years,
but in the brightness
two souls share
when they recognize
something gentle
in one another.2026
- p. 15Can We Meet on the Moon?Can we meet on the moon?
Sometimes when I look at the moon,
miles away,
I imagine that you're looking too.
Imaginary thoughts
that connect us in the sky.
The bridge in the glow of the moon —
we cross our eyes, gaze,
meet in the glow.
A moment where perception blurs
and connection becomes more.2026
- p. 16Anarchist for Your LoveWhat is an anarchist?
And why do I always question
the rules placed around love?
Perhaps I am an anarchist —
not against peace,
but against anyone who tells me
whom or how I'm allowed to love.
I am an anarchist for your love.2026
- p. 17YouHey, I don't know you.
I know you live across the street
with a wonderful family.
Will you teach me how to play guitar?2026
- p. 18Through My EyesI wish you could see yourself
through my eyes —
you'd smile without hesitation,
and every doubt you carry
would fall away.
Only then would you understand
how rare, how quietly extraordinary
you are to me.2026
Memory and What Was Lost
Looking back, and holding it gently.
- p. 19I Never Got Over ItI never got over it.
I only pretended to get through it, because how does someone move past the regret of losing you?
My journal is obsessed with every possible future for you and me, with everything that could have been. To me, you were heaven, and heaven should never be tainted by sin. You were perfect — polished, a pleasure to know. I could never have compared to the place where angels go.
You were well-spoken and well-mannered. If you had never met me, it wouldn't have mattered in your life at all. If words were made of pennies, you'd create a lottery of rhymes. I made myself a millionaire because it simply wasn't the right time.
But I wish it had been.
I hold those thoughts like a prayer, unsure whether to say them or keep them hidden. A better person wouldn't dare, but I confess before I can stop myself: I never got over you. Honestly, I don't think I ever could.
It didn't happen all at once. It came slowly, quietly, in the way you grew on me through your ways and your soft heart. I had never felt that kind of pull toward anyone else. By the time I realized what it was, there was no turning back.
Before love had time to fall, I was already yours.
I said I didn't like you that much at all. I did. Sometimes, I still do.
When I compare every day to that first day I had with you, I know what it was. To call it something else would be cruel.
Maybe they're just growing pains, but why do I think of you? Why did your personality leave such a mark on my soul? Why did I learn so much from you? Is it because I still love you? They say we love and learn; if you love somebody, you can learn from them.
How can you love someone when you know they're supposed to leave?
Don't leave. I loved you. Please, stay. Don't leave, because that love won't leave my heart anyway.
Don't leave. I never said it. I wish I had. I loved you.
Don't leave, because I know the future, and without you, it's pretty sad. I mean it or let me go. Leave if you must, but I need you to know that every part of me will love you.
But if you never return, what a hell of a lesson the loss of you was to learn.2026
- p. 20Total Eclipse of the HeartYou were once the sun
I never thought could set,
the warmth upon my face,
the light I would not forget.
Then something moved between us —
slowly, without a sound —
until the love that lit my world
was swallowed by the dark.
And there I stood,
beneath a blackened sky,
wondering how something so beautiful
could disappear
without ever leaving.
That is heartbreak.
Not the absence of love,
but love still burning
somewhere you cannot reach.
A sun behind a shadow.
A prayer without an answer.
A heart remembering warmth
while learning how to live
inside the cold.
I thought the darkness meant
the light was gone.
But an eclipse
does not destroy the sun.
It only passes between
what is
and what we can see.
So maybe this darkness
is not the end of love.
Maybe it is only the moment
when I must stand alone
beneath a silent sky
and trust —
that somewhere beyond the shadow,
the light is still burning,
and one day
it will find me again.2026
- p. 21In Search of Lost TimeAm I a man in search of lost time,
or a man who still loves
the woman from another season?
Do I wander through yesterday
because it was beautiful,
or because I have forgotten
that tomorrow can be beautiful too?
I search the quiet places
where her laughter once lived.
I hear echoes
that only memory can hear.
Was it time that I lost,
or was it simply
the life we never had?
Perhaps the past
is not calling me back.
Perhaps it is only reminding me
that I once loved deeply.
And if I could love that deeply once,
perhaps my heart
has not been left behind at all.
Perhaps it is still walking beside me,
waiting,
not for yesterday,
but for someone
I have not yet met.
I no longer fear the past.
I visit it with gratitude,
not with longing.
I let memory become a teacher,
not a prison.
The people I have loved
are chapters,
not chains.2026
- p. 22A Tempest StirredA tempest stirred within my heart —
not anger alone,
but grief, longing, fear, and love,
all crashing together
like waves beneath a darkened sky.2026
- p. 23A Meadow in My Perfect WorldThere is a meadow in my perfect world
where wind dances the branches of a tree,
casting leopard spots of light
across the face of a pond.
The tree stands tall and grand and alone,
shading the world beneath it.
There will come a day when I rest
against its spine and look out over a valley
where the sun warms, but never burns.
I will watch leaves turn
green, then amber, then crimson.
Then no leaves at all.
But the tree will not die,
for in this place, winter never comes.
It is here, in the cradle of all I hold dear,
I guard every memory of you.
And when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real,
far from your loving eyes,
I will return to this place,
close mine, and take solace in the simple perfection
of knowing you.2026
- p. 24HomesickI'm homesick for a place
I'm not sure even exists —
the place where my heart feels full,
my body is loved deeply,
and my soul is understood.2026
- p. 25Why Can't I Remember?Why can't I remember?
Why can't I think?
What is wrong with me?
Why don't these poems come to me
when I need them to?2026
The Water and the Sky
Mornings at the shore.
- p. 26Meet Me at the BeachMeet me at the beach.
Bring your light.
Bring your songs.
I'll wait for you.2026
- p. 27Beach PoetryThe sun is pushing through the universe to give us a sunrise.2026
- p. 28Waterfront TownWhen the day goes down on this waterfront town,
look at the sun sinking low all around.
Waves whisper softly their old seaside song,
as the tide pulls the memories gently along.
Seagulls drift home through the colors of fire,
while the evening sky lifts the heart a little higher.
Bare feet in the sand, no worries to keep,
just the sound of the ocean
and dreams falling asleep.2026
What I Believe
Short truths, plainly said.
- p. 29That's ItI believe in loving with your whole soul.
And destroying anything that wants to kill
what you love.
That's it.2026
- p. 30MindsetNo poison can kill a positive thinker.
No medicine can save a negative thinker.
Your mindset decides your life.2026
- p. 31The Wake of the BoatYour past —
the wake of the boat
will not steer your future.
Being. Feeling. Thinking. Doing.2026
- p. 32Anger Is a Secondary EmotionAnger is a secondary emotion.
Usually underneath anger
there is fear,
or anxiety of something.2026
- p. 33GratitudeGratitude destroys suffering.
Nothing happened to you.
It happened for you.
Gifts of the past
are meant to educate us.2026
- p. 34Rather Do NothingI'd rather do nothing and be happy,
than do something I know I don't love.2026
- p. 35In God We TrustIn God we trust,
all others we track.2026
- p. 36The Soul on FireThe most powerful weapon on earth
is the human soul on fire.2026
- p. 37Think With the HeartIn God's womb, the heart was developed first.
Before we were born,
before a thought could wander,
before a memory could take root,
a small red rhythm began.
In the dark waters of the womb,
the heart spoke first.
Not in words,
not in reasons,
but in a steady song of becoming.
Long before the brain traced its pathways,
the heart was already keeping time,
already saying yes to life,
already beating toward the light.
Perhaps that is why love feels older than logic.
Why kindness arrives before explanation.
Why some truths are felt
long before they are understood.
We have built great towers of thought,
measured the stars,
named the oceans,
and divided the world into pieces.
Yet the first teacher within us
was not the mind.
It was the heart.
So let us think with our hearts.
Let wisdom be warmed by compassion.
Let judgment bow to mercy.
Let understanding walk hand in hand with love.
For before we knew anything,
we were known by a heartbeat.
And maybe the deepest knowledge
is not what the mind can prove,
but what the heart remembers.2026
- p. 38ShadowsDo shadows spook you out?
Do they reflect your soul,
good or bad?
Sometimes our subconscious mind
can be our shadows.
It's like a form of our shadow.
Is it dark,
or is it gleaming light?
The brightness of shadows,
or the darkness of thoughts.2026
- p. 39Dimensions of the MindOur brains have different dimensions.
Our subconscious mind has different areas.
Why do we hide in one area
of our subconscious mind?
Is it the shadows of our past,
or the sunshine of our future?2026
- p. 40HorsesI always liked how horses
don't care what you say.
They react to your presence.
If you're calm,
they know it instantly.2026
- p. 41The Rule of HuggingThe Disney World rule of hugging children:
hug the child until he or she lets go.
Hug your friend until they let go.
Let's see what happens.2026
On Poetry Itself
Writing about the writing.
- p. 42PoetryWhy is it that when the page turns it rips a bit?2026
- p. 43Poetry and PhilosophyPhilosophy asks:
What is truth?
What is love?
How should we live?
What is time?
Poetry asks:
What does truth feel like?
What does love sound like after it's gone?
What does time smell like on an autumn morning?2026
- p. 44Not FrightenedI want my poems
to not be frightened.
I want to not be insecure
with my writing.
I want my thoughts
to belong to the world
through poetry.2026
- p. 45The ViolinistHe played the violin with tempestuous emotion,
drawing the bow across the strings
with vigorous strokes.
A beautiful tone emerged from the violinist's strings,
shaped by artistry, passion,
and the enchanting setting that surrounded it.2026
- p. 46Cowboy BloodI got cowboy blood and a poetry heart.
Don't mistake it for weakness.
More like honorable.
As a man I ain't afraid to cry
when the time is right.
Yes, I have my moments.
Mostly thinking of my past tender moments,
wishing they were still with me.
I will walk on the left side,
the street side,
in your honor.2026
- p. 47Go Kick RocksTwo things
somebody once told me:
Go kick rocks.
I hate the rain.
So I did.
I made a rock garden
and
I made a rain chime.
Yes.2026
Inside a Man
What men carry and never say out loud.
- p. 48The Vault Beneath His RibsMy tears become vaulted in shame.
The tears are treasures too shameful to spend.
We swallow the storms,
the masters of the quiet violence
of holding everything in.
The shameful fear of trembling lips,
soft confessions —
why has the world renamed it weakness?
We hide our tears behind clenched jaws
and forced laughter,
locked up tenderness
beneath the myth weight of being strong.
But strength, true strength,
was never the absence of breaking.
Shameful courage to feel
the miracle of healing
through dripping water.
They tuck their fears into fists,
trade softness for armor,
trade vulnerability for silence.
If they told us sooner
that crying isn't weakness, it's honesty,
then maybe fewer men would have drowned
in what they never let escape.
The tears of the storm hide the rain
to keep it indoors.
So us men, we grow deserts in our chest
and call it strength.
Nothing works without rain.
Nothing works without water.
Let it emotionally rain from our eyes.
We weep for every year we are forced to be steel,
for the man who learned how to hide his heart,
for the man who forgot he even had one.
If tears were allowed, maybe he would learn
to be whole instead of hardened.
There is a vault beneath his ribs,
a subconscious chamber he never chose to build.
Inside it, every unreleased tear
becomes a fear of the world.
His subconscious was a vault,
overflowing with storms he never named.
He thought they were drowning him,
but they only wanted to rain.
The vault inside him was never locked —
just forgotten.2026
- p. 49Beneath His RibsThere is a vault
beneath his ribs —
a subconscious chamber
he never chose to build.
Inside it,
every unshed tear
becomes an artifact.
Every silenced fear
a sealed envelope.
Every unfinished confession
a locked drawer
with no key in sight.
He learned young
to store emotions there,
quietly,2026
- p. 50Things About MeI need you to know
I'm not good at lying.
But I'm really good
at pretending to be okay.
I need you to show me
how lovers stay.
To say I want to see you
is the understatement of the year.
I love you
because you've been making me love
parts of myself
that I've always hated.
I'm wondering how a person like you
can make me have so much to feel.
Do you love the quiet places,
a sleeping house
before everyone wakes?2026