About a year ago I posted a blog called Motivation: Workings of a Poet. My idea was to sit down and write a new poem every couple days then post it up for the masses to indulge in. Well my plan failed miserably and I stopped posting new poems a few weeks shortly after I posted that blog. Everything happens for a reason and what happened to me was a little thing called "life". If you would of asked me a year ago where would I be, the answer probably still in school and living in my dad's house, working as little as possible. Since that blog I have moved out of my dad's house, didnt go to school this semester, and working as much as one person possibly can. It seems that me working has superceded everything else in my life, even my poetry. I am quickly learning the harsh reality that bill collector's don't give fuck what your execuses are they want their money.

So when I moved out of my pop's house and got my own pad with some roommates I started a new notebook to write and and the back of the cover I wrote something that I read almost everytime I put the ink to the paper. Here's what it says:"Here's to starting fresh and not looking back. This is my first notebook written on my own. Who Knows? This could be a turing point. So right now I'm walking the plank and treading waters I've never been in. Let's hope his turns out to be something good only time can tell........no turning back" What I can tell you is that this has turned out to be something good. I feel like I've written stuff thats made me vulnerable to the world but I'm ok with that. These poems are my most honest, personal and fault bearing.

So I'll leave you a little food for thought two poems from my notebook. With further adieu:

Reasonable Expectations

The mornings are cold.
Home is too far
The bus ride,
I slept most of it.

Left when the sun was going down.
Cameback as it was coming up.
Traffic is getting heavier,
And my feet hurt.

Break my back,
To make it work.
I'll stay for a while.
Not for too long.

"There will be a moment when I can present myself to the world. Until then my notebook bares my soul and secrets. Can you decipher the code?"

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Big boulders,
Heavy shoulders.
The dust doesnt wash away as easy.
Just hang me from the gallows.
My feet twitch from the truths,
That I bled from my cheek.
Eyes bulge from an inconvient belief.
I wasnt willng to tell all my convictions.
Now let me play catch up,
With all the pessimistics.
They were more fun anyways.
Matyrs talked with eyes closed,
And I couldnt get off my high horse.