OMFProductions

I wish
I could show you
the things
you’ve inspired
me to write.
It has been
a long,
long, long,
time
since a woman
inspired me
to write.

I am practicing my Zen.

I don’t know
what to do
about your
sadness.
I wonder if
when its over
you’ll still want
to talk to me.
I don’t know.

I am practicing my Zen.

I was feeling
my age
when I met
you,
I’ve been feeling
younger
since the first time
you smiled
at me.
I wish you smiled
at me
every day.

I am practicing my Zen.

Honestly,
I don’t think
my dreams
of you
are less real
than any other
dream
of any other
thing.
Still they are
dreams.

I am practicing my Zen.

I suspect
our relationship
is one based
on circumstance.
Circumstances
change.
I do not think
I will hear
from you
as much
when your
circumstances
change.

I am practicing my Zen.

I am remembering
how to feel
things I
forgot
to feel.
I am remembering
to see
with eyes I
forgot
how to open.
I am remembering
how to Love
like the Buddha
we have all
forgotten.

I am practicing my Zen.

If you leave
I will continue.
It is tricky,
caring
without
attachment.
I’ve been waiting
a long time
for the chance
to learn.

I am practicing my Zen.

But
it would be
nice
if you were willing
to try caring
with attachment.
My self
doubt
tells me
that wont happen.

I am practicing my Zen.

With luck,
the solution
will present
its self.
If there
is no
solution

I am practicing my Zen.

The past is dead
The future is not born
There is only now.

Right now,
I want
you,
your love,
more than anything.

Hope in one hand.
Shit in the other.
See which one
fills up first.

She was thin
with blonde hair
and blue eyes,
her name was
Kelly.

When I was five
I would push
her in the tire swing
for kisses
on the cheek.

When I was six,
a new boy
caught her eye.
I tried to be
their friends.

She was never
mean to me.
But she never
tried to stop
him, either.

I learned
from him
so many things.
Cruelty, loss,
jealousy,
and to think
I figured them
all out
on my own,
he was always
just
a catalyst.

I don’t know
if I made
any mistakes
I should have
learned from
way back then.

I do know
I have terrible
taste
in women.
Even when
the woman
is a good one,
she has no
need, no
desire,
for me.

I am
a one-man
show,
comedy and tragedy
two masks
one face
my own.

At least
I am used
to good byes.
I can not count
the friends,
or lovers,
whom I have lost.

It was easier
to not go
looking.

I never had
much luck
with Jessicas.
One wanted
to taze me,
maybe I deserved it,
even if not
for the reasons
she thought I did.
One told me
to leave,
to take my love
and burn it out
and all I had left
was an empty
heart(h)
with no warmth.

Rarely has a spark
been struck,
going all the way
back, way back,
to Kelly
when I was only
five. Every time
the flames
fade away,
the fire does not
start.

I’ve gotten used
to the cold
and empty
heart(h).
It is what
I know.
It is what
comforts me.
It’s probably
for the best.
I do not know
how to sustain
relationships.
I do not know
what can make
love grow,
let alone stay.

I do know
I am very
very
very
good
at
good
bye.