Preferences 

She stood in the store, I came through the door. I had answered her call, to meet at the mall. 

She looked with care afraid of my stare, my girl had just dyed her hair. 

 
And she says: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

 Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 

And I replied:

 “My preference will only change as you do. 

You’re beautiful. Babe, I love You.” 
So we get married and a house of our own, and we get off work and both come home.

She pulls up her sleeve, says: “like it, please! I got tattooed, but please don’t leave.”

She utters:

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I replied: 

 “My preference only changes as you do. 

You’re beautiful. My Love, I love You.” 
Then she has our kids and we raise them together. We both get old and look under the weather. 

I step to our room, where she stands in the mirror. She’s hiding a tear because age was her fear. 

She cries: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Would you miss me if I went away?

 Do you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I replied: 

 “My preference has only changed as you do. 

You’re beautiful. Gorgeous, I love You.” 
I wake at her bedside, we’re tired and ill. We both have already turned in our will.

With breakfast in bed I kiss her forehead, and hold her hand tightly to show what’s been said.

She whispers: 

 “I know that I look different today.  

Will you miss me when I go away?

Will you still love me like you did yesterday?” 
And I reply: 

 “My preference has always changed as you do. 

You’re beautiful. My Hero, I love You.” 
Written May 20th, 2017, for Cassie Marie, from Travis Jantzer

The World

I could show you the world.
But If I lose my legs,
Or don’t have the money,
Promise you won’t get bored..
Of me. 

Right now money’s a struggle.
I had two weeks off work,
But that last paycheck wasn’t double.
I can’t say I’m broke, but I’m fighting off injury.
‘Cus yesterday I woke, having slept through misery. 

It could always be worse,
But in cold days remorse,
I wish I had more money.

My brothers went skiing today.
I was invited along, my mom offered to pay,
But I’m trying to be a man, I can’t work that way.
Leave handouts for the needy, and food for the poor.
I don’t want to look greedy, but I ask God for more.

Because I could give you the world.
But if I lose my mind, and don’t have the money,
Promise you won’t get bored.

I dream so big, but doubt so much,
Like an old man’s wig, pulled out as such.
Do I work as hard as I should?
If the proverbial man could grow it again; he would.

But do I rely too much on faith?
Do I risk my dream just dying?
My future self is just a wraith.
To be him now, I’m trying.

Death to myself. My faith needs work.
I’ll buy breathe off the shelf, or just ask the clerk.
‘Cus some days it’s tough to breath.
It’s rough to think you might just leave.
Especially now that I let you believe…

I can show you the world.

If I’m a millionaire or hotter,
Or I pay my bills with air and water,
Know I need to know you’ll stay.
Stay here, the way fear lays near when you’re gone.
Now, don’t get me wrong.
I’ll give you my best and always put you first,
But laid down to rest when I’m dead at my worst…

…I long to show you the world.
But if I don’t have the money,
Promise you won’t get bored..
of Me. 

Winter’s Fall

Remember then when I took your hand,

In November when we walked again,

Through vineyards and the orchard lands.

I wished my friend, it would never end,

And it hasn’t.

See, we are still walking if you can imagine it. 

You asked me where we were going, 

Following without knowing…

I didn’t have a clue.

So to you,

That night, I told ya:

“Wherever the left leads the right, and vise versa.”

When leaves fall from my heart, may they take me to your soul.

Because this Fall I fall for you, my Autumn Tree, my Doll. 

Moreover then, around the bend,

In December when we’ll walk again,

Through snow storms and the winters wind.

I hope my Friend, it’ll never end,

And it wont. 

There is always room to fear, but I don’t. 

You’ll ask me what I’m thinking

Peaking, blinking, speaking..

I’ll reply, shy:

“This is all my dreams are made of, 

This Journey, with you, my Love.” 

Bedded In Triumph

At this point it makes no difference to me,

What the world sees me to be.

I just gotta keep living my dreams, see,

I don’t wanna be the death foreseen for me.

When I look up in the mirror I’m disconnected

Thought I’d recognize the image but I’m disrespectin’

Who I know could be the hero in me, for direction;

But the darkness in the air around me’s so depressin’.

I wont acknowledge who I know that I am, because Im fighting for the man I know  I could be,

If I’m falling in the ring and can’t seem to stand, make posters and cheer for the losing ‘Me’.

Because I’m fighting for the knockout,

Teeth biting till the clock out,

Heart writing so I block out,

These emotions.

I’m holding back the fallout,

Till my doubt can haul out,

My opponent burns out.

Feel the notions.

I don’t ever start something, I don’t intend to win,

Which means my birth was not something, to run and wear me thin.

I’m in this for the long haul,

Don’t question where I’m headed,

My back may be against the wall,

But triumph’s where I’m bedded.

An August Day Away

It was the middle of August, on a warm summer’s day, When the butterflies carried me away.

Over wide open plains, with my hands on the reigns; for the impromptu holiday.

Up on their backs, with wings, I was carried. Out into fields and groves, with berries. 

They spoke in my ear, short tales of the year, and dropped magic like glitter with glee. 

They sat me in grass, at cool waters edge, and brought fruit in baskets to eat.

They dove ‘neath the water, the river to dredge, to leave sparkling stones at my feet.

I dug through the seashells and colorful rocks, and gathered my favorites to keep.

The air sang like church bells, the peak of the clock, the butterflies rose with a leap.

In a spiraling cloud, we took to the sky.

The trees all bowed, and started to cry.

The wind sang us home, with music anew.

I was never alone, for the butterflies knew:

It was I who they needed, I needed to be. 

Their magic was nothing with no one to see.

They left me but pleaded, for their own return,

To teach me of something, their magic to learn. 

In feeling their longing, I asked them to stay.

In my home, there, belonging; at least one more day.