Things Will Be Fine

Things will be fine.

Sometimes it’s cold outside and the bus comes on time

Sometimes I save a little from cheque to cheque

Not hanging off my last dime

Although I’m content with hanging off the right dime

She’s got eyes that pierce the way into a rhyme

Sometimes it storms outside

But art is in the way the trees sway and wind chimes

I’ll draw promises in the sand while you play in the water

And they disappear when the wind blows

Sometimes things don’t last but that’s just how life goes

Not sure what’s cool but I know what’s fake

Fake people aren’t there when push hits a shove

And that shit shows

Not down with the porcelain scene.

I’ve had my lips frozen to a glass past

Not entirely sure where this poem is going

I’ll let it adrift into the water

Watching life from a sun orbed backdrop

Toes just brushing the water.

Things will be fine.

-D.R

Dangerous Creativity

I wish my demons on no one.

Fuck a feel good piece

I shook hands with fate when I began to write

I knew at the age of ten the price I'd pay

When my heart connected to the pen.

Too much to drink into the darkness I'd swing

Nowadays I swing alone in the park and think

A man now, things have calmed down

Storms have settled

But the past still taps me on the shoulder

Reminding me of when life weighed heavy on me like a boulder

I was cold in so many ways

Toes frozen I'd count the days

Until I could hold her

Summertime eyes had me craving skin on skin

Telling those heavy summer time lies

Waiting for that fall

When the breath shows and the feeling lingers

Short days and longer nights

Lingerie down your thighs

I'd lay awake and watch you sleep praying the sun doesn't rise

A man now, things have settled

But the demons call from the attic of my mind

Knowing that pain creates fury and desire of a different kind

That's dangerous creativity.

The twisted reflection in a broken glass

The fear of young mother with a hungry belly at home who's depending on her to go to class and pass.

The all-in fire in the eyes of a gamblers desire

A long walk at night when things at home ain’t right

I carry a pen in my back pocket

Ready to explode

To create a mess cleaned up with reckless passion

The love was revolutionary

Creativity dangerous

 

-Dev