in a small
chapel with
elaborate wood
carvings we
listened to the singer
who drank beer
and rambled
between songs.
i closed my
eyes held your
hand lost myself
in the vocals
finding God more
in this than in the
elaborately carved
wooden chapel.
Day: November 16, 2008
tiny violins for my fake friends
poetryreal friends don’t play pretend
and make ammends if they offend
surely with no intent
to damage you but by accident
and real friends are by your side
would never lie
or leave you dry
or let you die
but real friends do not exists
like unicorns and sentiments
like aliens in rocket ships
but much much more like sentiments
sun rise if you will
poetrynight comes as my pillow
envelopes my naked head
beckoning me to dreams
i fear will be forgotten on
waking hours before the sun
rise.