My Book Smells of Popcorn

I wasn't at my best today.
No reason, some days just happen that way.
I felt sad because some people I love are struggling.
But they are brave - braver than me.

There were moments when I was high,
Bouncing around, talking fast.
This happens quite a bit-
I turn into a puppy, needing attention and knocking things over.

But then it hits me.
I'm a joke, people don't take me seriously because they have no cause to.
Damn them! They are wrong. I have things to say.
Important things.

Maybe they don't see me as a joke - maybe I see me as a joke.

My book smells of popcorn.
I wonder why that is?
Some people always smell nice
- that's nice.

For a moment I thought about when we were young and my aftershave bottle spilled onto Becky's pillow.
She said she didn't mind because the smell made her think of me.
I like that memory.

Some people are very consistent. I appreciate that.
My head swirls with good and bad, faster and faster.

I think my integrity is important to me, but I'm worried that it's breakable.
I hope I don't disappoint Becky.

One time I wrote a poem and she named an entire business after it. Ha.
She makes me laugh.

I just noticed a canal I didn't know was there. It's still.
I want to throw a big rock in.

Someone is being loud on the train.
They are shouting at a person who is sick because they are drunk. I think they are homeless.
I want to say something.
I'm going to say something.
Dammit, I'm a coward!

This is my stop.

My Lovely Little Ava Paper

My lovely little Ava
With her lovely little smile
And her lovely little hugs
For a lovely little while.

My funny little Ava
With her funny little games
And her funny little songs
Calling us funny little names.

My strong little Ava
With her strong little thought
And her strong little stance
She is a strong little sort.

My giggly little Ava
With her giggly little grin
And her giggly little tricks
Causing a giggly little din.

My tired little Ava
With her tired little eyes
And her tired little teddies
Holding back tired little cries

My dreamy little Ava
With her dreamy little kiss
And her dreamy little whispers
Before her dreamy little bliss.

I'm Lost But Don't Want To Lose

It's 20 hours until I'm with you,
Only to be pulled away.
That dusty street
Where we said we'd meet
Keeps me moving day by day.

I can't shelter from the cold
It exists inside of me.
My eyes have aged
Through wars they've waged
But there's one thing they long to see.

I don't remember stopping.
Feet too swollen for my shoes
Through market stalls
And city walls
I'm lost but don't want to lose.

Time to Imagine

In an imaginary world
I had an imaginary talk
With an imaginary friend
On an imaginary walk

We talked of imaginary times
Where we had imaginary deals
That all imaginary people
Had rights to imaginary meals

When imaginary colours
Didn't matter an imaginary jot
And no imaginary borders
Split those with an imaginary lot

Then all imaginary money
And profits it imaginary brings
Would buy imaginary care
And other vital imaginary things

Who we imaginary loved
Caused no imaginary alarm
Just some imaginary happiness
Doing no imaginary harm

If we had time to imagine

Dancing with you

Wearing shoes that dance in time
I knew that you were not real,
But you held me close so I could feel
You follow one more rhyme.

Maybe I was just with me.
I had an umbrella in the warm
And sunglasses against a storm
And only I could see.

We were wherever we cared to dare
The sunset and the breeze
Belong to us, do as we please.
We held them still, right there.

I can remember it quite clearly
We spoke in glances and sighs
I lost my breath in your eyes.
It must have happened really.