Cut Grass

When I was a teenager,
my dad would want me to cut the grass.
I did, and most of the time I would bag the cuttings.
Sometimes, if the grass was short enough
I wouldn’t need the bag.
When I would finish,
people from the neighborhood would stop by
and compliment me on how the yard looked.

Then my dad would come home.
He complained that it wasn’t cut right.
That I should have bagged the grass better.
He would complain about something
that was done different
than his liking.
I resented him for years.
He was never home,
and was a workaholic.
He enjoyed working
and then coming home
just to complain
and belittle.
It ended up being his greatest lesson.
He taught me that the world is cruel.
You could feel as though you did a great job,
but a boss
may not feel the same.

Now that I am older
I realized he was right.
The world is cruel.
I have given everything
in my jobs,
my love life,
and my writing.
All end up in rejections.
Some were written,
and some were left in a voicemail,
but many were in person.

After so many,
the hurt went away
and persistence took over.
I may write something
and it will be rejected.
A girlfriend will breakup with me
saying there has to be someone better.
The job,
where I went above and beyond
only to watch others get praise.

I know now
that I didn’t need that kind of lesson
when I was a teenager.
I needed a father.
Someone to believe in me.
It is something I never had,
which made me doubt myself,
even now.
It was in the cut grass.

©Copyright 2014 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved


I Could Say I Love You

I could say I love you
to make you happy,
to make things easier on me.
I want to tell you,
but don’t know if I truly do.
Maybe I’m holding on
to those words
waiting for the right moment.
I could say them,
but would they
come from the heart?
This heart has been
through so much hurt.
I forgot
what love feels like.
The ache,
the pain,
the longing,
all things I went through
with my first few loves.
The signs of love are now
a distant memory.
Can it be my age?
My hurt from the first few
may have put this shield
around my heart.
I could say I love you
and not know for sure.
I hope I can tell you sometime
that I can’t live without you
and that I love you.

Who knows true love anyway?

©Copyright 2011 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

Christmas Snow


Christmas Snow

I can look back
and see the Christmas snow
falling slowly.
It never made a sound,
but chilled my watered skin
to the bone.
A time for family and cheer
was tainted by your words.
I spent the entire day wondering
what I did to drive you to him.
Now I look back at that moment
of walking outside to clear my head.
No moon to light the night sky
and how the beautiful lights
on all the houses,
helped me forget you.
My memory is of that moment
and not of you, or your words.
There is no snow on the ground
this year to remind me,
of how the ice and your words
chilled me to the bone.
Just the beautiful lights
on every house.
They are lit this year
to remind me
that the lights shine brighter
and much clearer this year.

©Copyright 2009 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

Fly on the Wall

My new book is finally out.

Here is the link to order the paperback:

Here is the link to order the ebook format:

The Winner

I was watching
TV today and noticed
a beauty queen on the news.
She won the competition
and there were forty nine losers.
The winner gets called
and she talks about her new book.
The book talks about success.
The girl says that she has been
competing for well over ten years
and that her positive attitude helped her win.

What I want to see
are the forty nine losers
that spent the last ten years competing
and lost.
I want to hear how they deal with the
Do they slip into drugs or give up on life?
Nobody in America wants to hear about
the loser.
America has always loved the winner
and what they have to say,
even if that winner isn’t articulate in the way
they speak.
It’s too bad that nobody teaches the loser
how to overcome failure.

It’s not taught
by our churches, schools or families.
Nobody wants to think about failing,
so they don’t talk about it.
We need the voice
for the failing grades
the failing marriages
and for the failing
of ourselves.

©Copyright 2010 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved


He sits in front of the TV and,
listens to the man on the screen.
Police surround the man
who is escorted out
of the house.
He states how he has changed
and that he should be allowed
to live by the school.

The kid’s eyes are fixated
on the man.
He looks into his eyes as reporters
keep asking the questions.
The kid can tell
the man is sincere
in his answers,
and that he isn’t lying.
The kid knows
it’s something else
that turns truth
into horror.
That takes a decent man
and turns them into
a monster.

It scares him
to think that
while reporters
are questioning this man,
there are monsters
out there preying
on kids like him.
The little eight year old
glances at the clock
and knows he has a few
before dad comes home.

They will eat dinner
and dad will have a few drinks
before the monster
inside him
comes out.
The kid looks at the TV
one last time,
with hope
that the media
and police
will be at his house

©Copyright 2011 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

Behind the Doors

Behind the doors
is an experience
awaiting your arrival.
Your friends said they
would meet you at the bar.
You tell them
you don’t like crowds,
but are willing to toughen up
and make it there tonight.
You get a little closer
and your heart beats faster.
Standing in line is killing you,
and being that it’s cold outside,
doesn’t help.

The people in front of you
move up as you see
the couple ahead of them
open the two doors.
You stand on your tip toes
trying to catch a glimpse
of what it looks like,
behind the doors.
Boisterous laughing
and the chiming of glasses
are all you can hear or see.
The man quickly waves
the couple
in front of you through.
The wait is almost over.
Your heart starts to pound
harder and harder,
knowing that you are next in line.
The man waives you on
and your forehead starts to bead up.

You open the door,
walk in,
and realize how
disgusting this place
looks on the inside.
All the hype you were told
didn’t match what you see.
You want to make the best of it,
but your heart beats faster.
The walls close in,
and the cold sweat beads up more.
Your nerves start to overwhelm,
you start to get dizzy,
but can’t find a place to settle.
Too many people around
and now the roof feels
as though it is slowly collapsing.
Your nerves start to
make you dizzy.

The loud laughing,
the clanging glass
starts to echo in your head.
Your heart pounds
through your chest.
You need air,
and you exit the door
from where you came.
You take two deep breaths
and start to walk away,
Knowing that you are alright now,
and that the attack has left.

©Copyright 2013 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

When I First Wake Up

I wake up
and go to the bathroom.
It was five minutes
before my alarm went off,
so I turned off the alarm
and took a piss.

I finish
and wash my hands.
I look in the mirror.
My hair is everywhere,
my eyes have luggage
under them,
and I am breaking out,
with acne I haven’t seen
since I was a teenager.

It made me think back
to an old girlfriend,
and one
of the most beautiful moments
I can ever remember.

I woke up one morning
and she had beaten me up.
She was looking right at me
from a foot away.

My sleepy eyes slowly opened
to see her blond hair,
and the sunlight
shining through the window,
hitting her hair just right.

I remember her blue eyes
and how they glistened,
when the same sunlight
met them.

The smile,
and oh,
what a smile.
It is one that I will
never forget.
That one moment,
my sleepy eyes swear
her smile
shined brighter than the sun.
It has been almost ten years
since that happened,
and her look that morning is
still burned into my memory.

Now I wake up to this
bad hair,
baggy eyes,
nose hair,
and a face that is begging
to be shaved.

I guess
you have to see ugly
once in a while,
in order to appreciate
real beauty.

©Copyright 2013 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

Thank You!

fly on the wall
I want to thank all of you for your kind words. I am sorry for not posting many poems over the last few weeks.

I have been getting the new version of “Fly on the Wall” into gear. It will not be your typical poetry book. When editing is completed it will be around 500 pages. Once ready for market release, it should be available in book and e-book format.

I can’t stand poetry books that have 40 poems in them and costs a fortune. This book will be more than worth the price. I have collected writings over the last ten years, most are poems I sent to magazines and contests over that time-frame. I weeded out hundreds of poems and placed the best ones I could into this large collection.

I will keep posting new work on here. I did take many of my writings down due to “clutter” and because they will be in the new book.

Final editing is being done now, and I expect to have Fly on the Wall available between mid to late July. I hope you all will like it.

Thanks again for following and for all your kind words!


Doggie Style

A long day,
and I walk into the house.
I flip the light and see
my dog.
She wags her tail and barks.
I walk toward her
and she lays on her back,
a trusting one.

I bend over
and rub her belly
as she licks my hand.
someone is glad to see me today.
I smile as I kick off my shoes.
I sit on the sofa as she meets me,
licking my face.
Her happiness is shown in actions,
and no words are necessary.

I wish a dog on anyone that is lonely.
No matter how bad the day,
you will always go to bed
knowing somebody loves
and misses you.

It shows in their lick.

©Copyright 2008 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved