Every

My old man,

Never was awarded a medal

For Saving a life.

Never had his name etched

In marble for courage.

Never was commended on

Helping the world from itself.

Every future scar,

Every soon to be cast,

Every illness,

He did what he did best.

Not a day goes by

That I think of him less

Than what the world calls

Extraordinary men.

Being there with a smile,

Suited him best anyways. 

Pincushion Prophet

This corner, watching days pass

Overlooked 

The sky’s grown up too fast.

Tried, fell for the assailant

My own good, tracing a hide

Where do you find happily ever after?

Defected, I wanted out

No compassion from your maker in sight

I’ve heard beauty’s found on the inside,

I wasted nights searching veins 

To no avail.

I’ve witnessed death, held hands with hurt

Not a soul would talk

My mistakes take forms of faces

Haunting dreams

Muttering for sympathy, anything

They just stare, muted. 

Intuition’s been marred by 

Irreparable harm.

My present is 

Chased by my past with

Pitchforks and

Torches. 

So tell me, hopeless romantic,

Poet,

How does one cope with

The absence of happiness

And the decay of what once was?

Battlefields Under Moonlight

Five semesters and there’s blood

Staining the setting

From the flinch of my finger.

Traded in textbooks and a writer’s

Pen for the 

Sake of an evil conjured out of

Fear, Like we’re watching

Loved ones writhe

without anesthetics to help

Stave off the pain,

Waving from the sticky seats of buses

All the way to the front lines.

I’ve lost my touch with 

The delicacy that

Lined the walls of 

my simple affection.

Putting the 

Wrong words down 

for this envelope addressed

To someone I never knew.

And if I had whatever I used to feel

Driving those backroads

With You, I’d spill it

But this unknown land

Is picking my 

Bones bare,

Left my mind to wander

While vultures of enmity 

Suck the life right from

Our chests.

This land between 

Us is starting

To 

   feel like an unwanted 

Limbo.

I wish I could say it a 

Little more eloquently,

But the shit 

I’ve seen just 

Won’t quit my head

And if this strife

Doesn’t consume me,

The time spent neglecting 

My Soul will. 

I’ll grace your 

Line of sight, dead or alive,

Dressed up as a ghost.

Demanding everything,

Unaware of how to

Work your thighs, just like 

The thousand times before.

Now Vs. Then

I nodded my head as she muttered words
Such as
Outrage, injustice, and malfeasance
I Tried to listen intently as she explained 
Losing her window cube at her job
Pissed off, teetering along the lines of tirade
She sipped from 
her mother's  crystal
Wine glass
Asked 
How was
your day, sweetie
I told her 
it was 
Good, she pried for more detail
When I told her I met a man
While I stood outside the Damen stop
Taking 
drags as
Quick as I could
The man reeked of booze and piss,
his skin seemed caked with the grime
from under about a million different
mechanics fingernails

He said 
he was 
a hero once
My girlfriend gave me a look 
Of boredom, the kind of looks
I saw at business seminars
I told her how I instantly wrote him off, just another homeless lunatic
She chuckled a little, why she did I hadn't the faintest idea
He continued with his short story telling me of how he saved the lives of a few hundred men
As I threw my cigarette to the ground, trying to listen to him as the blue line ran over our heads
He followed me up the stairs to the platform, saying he wouldn't mind the company
I inquired about how he saved lives, curious to see 
If I was correct in assuming he was a nut
He wouldn't spill the beans, said he wasn't about praise
I asked if he lived up the blue line at Logan Square or Jefferson Park
Since he was heading along with myself away from the 
city
Told me he was just wanting to stay warm on the train for the night
Hoping a cop wouldn't roust him

The El was two stops away from where I got off
When the man slid off his jacket and reached into his ripped Walgreen's bag
I noticed a tattoo of one of the US military branches
His sweatshirt came up as he reached deeper into the bag on the floor
Exposing scars that looked like I had seen in movies and the History Channel
Marks left by metal, shrapnel 
I felt sick to my stomach, not for the scar but for the fact this man was the one
Sporting the scars.

I told her how I slipped a 20 in his 
Bag while he wasn't looking as my stop
Approached
She had an agitated look, knowing we were low on money

I looked her in the eye and asked
Now what were you telling me about
Injustice

Loved Ones

One day I will be put in 

the ground and

I

Hope everything my 

Dreams prescribed 

Will be shown in words and

Pictures

As the ones I hold in my heart say

Goodbyes.

Such an ugly word, but

There comes a time and

Your show must go on

This 

      Is

        Where

I aspire to bear in 

Your mind.

Let everything I once set out to do,

Everything I accomplished

Be a reminder to you that

No matter what Winter,

Failed love,

Critics,

or pessimists 

Try to get you to believe.

The desires I fulfilled,

Were as a result of you

Let the smiles I some nights couldn’t

Dismiss until sleep befell me

Found in these photographs be 

A keepsake. 

Take solace, as they were

Because of our time. 

And take note that in whatever

You 

Do, even covered by dirt

I am still your biggest fan.