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undefined Aug 2015
im getting good at "good byes"
do 'em all the time
can look you straight in the eyes
and hardly even cry

im gettin better at telling lies
say one or two everytime
i'll kiss you soft and say
we'll meet again someday

so darling, before you and I
get much closer together tonight
before you've swept my heart away
there's something i should say

we can be together tonight
and i'll sure hold you tight
but honey you should know
i'm gettin' good at letting go

it might feel like we could stay
and i'll love you for always
but when the road calls me on down the line...
I'm gettin' good at "good byes"
capo 1
barred
[E]
a/e/b/e
undefined Apr 2014
Stevi's buyin a prom dress
her momma's payin the bills
both are lookin for work now
A life in the rebuild.

Made it through the summer with the sand and the sun
In the cold winter months their love keeps 'em warm
Makin' things work out seems to come so easily ...
for the girls now laughing down at Hard Times Street
----------------------------------------------------------­---------------
Never seen a family so warm
Helping each other battle the storms
and wearing life's scars so gracefully
Time spent is always a pleasure
with the girls living down by Hard Luck Street
----------------------------------------------------------­----------------
...was just passing through when they took me in
Hope to make it back there to see 'em again
but we all know that the roads where I belong..

"Makin' good time I'll always rome
every stretch of mile that I call home"
But if ever down in Texas you know where you can find me...

Loving, laughing and making the best of things
with the girls making it up from Hard Times Street .
really am grateful to many of the people who inspire me in my life
like the one's in this song
:)
undefined Nov 2012
I'm awe struck
got a message from you on Facebook,
I just can't stop smiling.
You flipped my day around,
bright side up from upside down.
You sent a song you played my way,
and breathed new life into me
One moment I was drowning
and then your melody revived me.
You wrote that you missed seeing me around,
but my heart I still keep hidden
buried underground.
:)
i just wanted to write something
undefined Aug 2022
My head still stings from the drink last night,
I try to say "I'm sorry," but can't seem to do anything right .

Louder than any broken screams.
Is how it feels when she won't look at me.

...

She asked, "Is there a history of abuse with you?"
And I didn't know what to say...

There's always been that thing, like a cloud that won't go away.

Both sides of my family got it, we'd just pretend like it's something other than what it was...

There's burns all down my arm I try and cover up, with a tattoo now that says,
"Pain never hurt me     like love."
I apologize if me writing this out this way makes you think any less of me
undefined May 2021
"Home," I used to think,
was the road...
But now I know,
it's all the places in between.

Not the cracks and crevices in concrete.
Not the spaces swimming beneath my feet.
Not sidewalks, Rocky trails, or city streets...

"Home," is where I lay my head,
and REST my feet.
With friends I've known for years,
and new ones I meet.
Where I'm welcomed with smiles,
and something to drink...

My "home," is not the road (I love),
but little stops made,
at places in between.
undefined Nov 2012
I get genuinely psychotic in the morning
when the sun creeps out to see
If I slept last night I would want to put a gun in my mouth
(breakfast with coffee, black)
just you and me.
I get depressed long and hard, and often feel like
the cream cheese that you scrape off your bagel.
As the hour goes on everyone's two dimensional
(photo-copy of photo-copied, of photo-copy)
and you are scraping your bagel
of the unwanted (but served anyway) cream cheese,
"You," (probably the plastic knife in this analogy) "drive me..."
Spat! in the trash
as your upturned nose tells me how much our days together
are measured in inches, not yards.
undefined May 2013
Sun coming up with my head over the lake
Breathing cold air in as last night fades
Scizor tales flip against blue sky
Trees of green shadow my eyes

My mind's troubles
ripple far from the shore
and I – hurt no more

She rambles on her guitar
Feet toes barely touching the water
Sounds and light flicker in space
She sings songs of “finding peace”

And my mind's trouble
ripples far from the shore
I - hurt no more

Couple of beers, shooting pool at the bar
Drinking with friends who don’t know who you are
Outside the night air is driftin’ off of the lake
Easy now to smell the coming of change

My mind's troubles
ripple far from the shore
and I - Hurt no More

Hear the waves crashing on the sand
my heart skips a beat when he grabs my hand.

Listen to you breathe lying next to me
Curled up close I begin to dream
Allison and I sing this together now
[she even added the line at the end "Hear the waves crashing on the sand, My heart skips a beat when he grabs my hand"]
undefined Mar 2013
sometimes you land on the Major,
sometimes you live in the Depressive
my life's in the Disorder,
... where now all hopes have drifted.

{What did you do?}

You listened to me read.
You played a song for me.
You opened me up,

you made a heart in a box think it could breathe.
undefined Jan 26
I leave the phone on,
when I should shut it off,
' cause i keep thinking maybe you'll call. Maybe you'll text and say
just the right thing,

I don't know what that would be,
but it could happen,
finally
you might think of a way to tell me the words that could fix everything.

Help me breathe

help me sleep

Your words could fix me , again.


And I wish you would,
but I know you won't,
and when I should shut off my phone,
I'll leave it on,


just for a little hope.
Having some panic attacks the last few days, and they seem to be getting worse....
I don't know what to do about them and I don't really know why I'm having them all of the sudden either, really.. but like everything else, trying to write my way through it
undefined Jan 2016
I've held hands in mine / That made great art from clay
I've listened to deaf friends talk / Whose hands had much to say

If My hands could tell a story, what would it be?
Would they tell of times, good and bad. How would they judge me?

These hands have held a rock wall / Holding on for my life
The same hands that pulled a trigger / To make it through the fight

The Good Book that my Momma / Brought me up to believe
Says it's Not by works / That any man is made free

They've held my Son, and Daughter / High up toward the heavens
They've lifted up, and they've struck out / Some things aint worth a mention

But 'If these hands could tell a story,'
I wonder if you'd still let me ...

Wrap them 'round your waist at night / Hold your face close to mine
Place yours in mine when we walk / And Not judge me By the Way They Talk ...

[Well, there's scars from being cut open,
burns from knuckle to wrist,
a break from a bar fight,
and fingers that calloused just a bit...

From making noise and trying
to sing and write a few songs.
I guess these hands will tell
half the story after all.]

If these hands could tell a story, what would it be?
Would they tell of times, good and bad, Or would they punish me?
A Local Group's "Song Assignment"
undefined Apr 2013
Beautiful dreams
  of making art from glass
  and then giving it away to people who ask…

Our bodies entangled
  ******* like the knots that were in my stomach
  at the beginning of eve

Dissipated
    like the shore washed by the great sea

You are
    the best parts of me
undefined Nov 2012
i like my glasses.
they're not ones that help me see any better,
but they do help me better not to see. your eyes to mine ,
i can remain around and talk for a time
... with my glasses.

i like my hat,
or hats rather, i have several.
they separate me in my mind from someone else i may be,
but the someone without my hat is the someone you would not meet.
the me without my hat stays locked in a room for days.
he doesn’t come out and you would never want him to anyways.
he's not a charming fellow, the me without a hat,
we're all probably better off if he keeps some thoughts under wraps.

i like books,
and always keep one or two with me.
stories well written, and some not so much.
poetry, and short speeches,
of spirituality, religion, and lust.
i read them all in front of the cafe, or on the bus.

i have no antidote here to offer you,
for the problems that we both seem to hush.
it is what it is,
meaning is found in things that it must.
undefined Jun 2015
I've seen the sun rise and set on two ocean's coasts.
I've spent years travelling, traversing and making my way from one ocean to another.
Always stopped short, by crashing waves and rocky shores
Filled with awe, my heart pumping in my chest
Also though, there is a longing now for more,
To press on out farther and see the rest.

I long to get lost at sea, to know and gaze upon ocean all around me.
To find some distant land, too far out for me to see.
I must press onward farther out, this land can no longer contain me [and my dreams]

...
I think I shall sleep tonight by the beach
And dream of waves crashing over me
Dream of being swept out with the tide
To a distant land where this place is only a beautiful memory
undefined Jul 2023
You've gotten complacent, desensitized, you loosened your grip, gave up too much rope, and let the shade slip
so far down over your eyes that you can't see, we've been steadily losing ground while their grip was tightening.
Everything is now monitored and regulated, step for a moment outside their system and you'll really believe it. What they pay, is what you'll eat. What they offer is all you see. Pacified and cradled, why would you ever leave.
We shoot bombs in the Sky , Let's hear your game time warcry scream , while every radio at the display is perfectly im sync. Explosions shock nerves, and like a call in response, the words you mindlessly sing , "proud to be American where at least I Know I'm Free..."
When at night,  in your privately owned car,
or under shade on a hot day in a public park                                 You can't sleep.

There's no more human rights to speak We The People have lost to another country yet again controlling
Just jotting this down here as an idea
Meaning I'll come back later to maybe work it better and make more sense
undefined Feb 2013
walking the street hours
he walks the streets in silence
in twilight moments

of quiet chaos
his head so full of shadows
that his waking stays

his mind rambles on  
when your head lay fast asleep
and you have enough

death is at his side
he'll find rest throughout the day
awaiting next move

find places to lay
your concerns are not the same
with darkness looming
*is this what is concidered "haiku," 'cause thats what i was trying to go for, but can't get a for sure answer?*
undefined Mar 2013
It’s the little hugs
(hello & goodbye)
It’s the little way you just
drop by, to say “hello & goodbye”

It’s the little smiles
Like at the corner of your mouth
Little memories made
every time we’re out

It’s the twinkle in your eyes
as corny as that sounds
The little way that you say things
The way that I feel around..

The little walks by your side
Your hair in moonlight
The way you make me wanna say things
the way I wanna write

The little part in your lips
when you’re listening to me
The little kiss I can’t wait to take
Once I’ve earned your trust in me

It’s the little breath, when you are close to my chest
And the little sink in my heart when it leaves
All the little text messages you send
and your voice on the phone talking
such a sap right now .......
undefined Jan 2013
an anniversary of a three year old’s             laugh
never old enough to get laugh                               lines
before she flat lined and I                                              wept
I went to visit a teacher today at “Stovall          Hall”
stayed to watch class and enjoy the                              music
haven’t danced in over a year and almost forgot what      for
my body remembers, as does my mind and both are             unforgiving
I feel sometimes that I’ve been living a life that’s lost in reality’s  creases
and my only way out and forward is simply determined                   in
what I do now to stay close and find hope for                                   myself
i wrote a poem out on the right,
and kinda longer version of, on the left.


Brandi Rene' 17JAN2001 - 10JUN2004
undefined Feb 2018
I picked up this ol' guitar
a couple of years ago,
and just started walking
when I had nowhere to go.

Don't know where I'm headed,
I don't wanna join no band,
but I'll see the end of every road
before I die, if I can.

Somewhere down this road I'm on,
someone's feelin' just as alone,
and if I sing loud enough,
this could be more than "Just a song."

[guitar solo]

Now I seen friends and lovers,
and children all pass away,
I felt like an old man
at the age of 28.

When I get to feelin' lonely
and wishing for the life I had,
I sit down on the corner,
strum a while and put out a hat.

I don't know no "Jesus,"
but if you a prayin' man,
put in a good word for me,
wish God 'ould help this traveling man.

[very short music break]

Now I aint say all this for pity,
I don't need nothin' from you.
But somewhere out there's someone
feelin' like I do.

Somewhere down this road I'm on
someone's feeling just as alone,
and if I sing loud enough
this could be more than just another song.

© All Rights Reserved , Patrick W. Hamilton , 04-24-2015
I've rewritten this poem as "Lyrics" now, because.... Well, that's what they are really :)
undefined Apr 2013
i walk the way of the sun, to stay in the light
my insides feel sick though, like they want to cry
everyone who wears "mid-term" face
clogs weightily along, at reluctant [but determined] paces
undefined Jan 2014
runnin from something i can't define
losing my heart [but] holding my mind
too much blazing in my head
never sleep anymore in my bed
falling through oceans of disbelief
an undertow that won't let go of me

why can't i get you off my mind
i've tried, and died before, at least a thousand times

i'd like to be standing tall and free
but this cursed thing just won't let me be
------------------------------------------------------
something's "off" tonight
and i need to write it outa me
tired. alone. afraid. .
of all that's lost you took the best of me

why can't we erase, start anew and clean
you, "be you" , i'll introduce you to me

when i lay down to sleep there's a space that's missing
between my arms
where my heart used to be
there's places in the dark where only you can see

times like now , i miss hearing you sing...
probably a little delirious right now hehehheh...
not even gonna proof read it tonight, i think i just needed to write.
[something]
undefined Aug 2018
I walked out to question the dark blue deep
I stared and listened, and I swear she answered me

A distant bell clangs across the harbor, the masts stand naked and tall
Sun beat down as morning brings light to kiss away the dark

Gulls fan and float, gazing down beyond the boats
Along the boardwalk, bicycles pedal and streak

Riggings hold tight great masters of sea
where teal waters gleam

The wind pushes her face against the shore, and she slaps the rocks (till the wind back off)
and in the quiet, she talks to me once more
finding those times, tween objectives and distractions
to really listen for my answers as well as my questions
undefined May 2013
Wearing scars

Like the ones on her guitar

Boys make tools

Girls wear flowers in their hair

Wild dogs yelp at the passing train

Sun bathing tummies

And lazy day songs play
just bein a hippy today lol
undefined Jun 1
I had a dream I was swimming
farther & farther out from shore.
Turning,  I lost sight of you
feeling it hard not to care anymore.

Going farther & farther thinking "This
will be how I conquer my fear."
Choking on salt water
swallowing tears.
May be snorkeling a lot lately
undefined Dec 2012
I want to like you,

but you make me knot .
heheh ;)
undefined Jan 21
You feel so far
so far away
I think of your smile
it drives loneliness away

Remember the time
when you felt the same
You got scared
but it's okay...

Sometimes words
are hard to say
I love you like the stars
and miss you everyday
Just keeping words here till I can put them together right
undefined Oct 2018
gonna make him a man someway
forgotten hopes of yesterdays
gonna keep his head down & learn to pray...

lonely roads
when you're all alone, all you know
are these lonely roads

A razor drug across an old man's chin
getting him ready for a big last day to begin
dressed up fancy in a nice big box
family gathers with friends in good thoughts

To say "we'll miss you" to a loved one's loss
Years done spent. Life's only real cost.


She kept those feelings locked up tight
a little place just behind her eyes
brushed her hair and said, "everything's
alright"

nobody thought to ask
until things had gotten so bad
what was it that made her feel so
trapped ?

lonely roads
into unknown
which way to go (it's hard to know)
on these lonely roads

Railyard cars have all gone home
a younger man's dreams up in smoke
a story long been told
ends before it was ever wrote

Belt fastened & hair is combed
time to leave it behind & go
with ragged jeans still not sewn
times gone by of lonely roads

lonely roads
into unknown
it's hard to know (which way to go)
on a lonely road
undefined Jun 2013
so shines street lamps tonight
to illuminate figures passing by

words spill out, ricocheting in the deep,
from mouths that chatter with no sleep

lonely strangers walk dizzy to sight so poor
rain swept distant a shore

cigarette smoke like clouds to surf
it's lonely strangers that speckle the earth
undefined Jan 2013
Don't know how others do,
but from her, I get rave reviews ;)

See some people, in my opinion, just don't
know how to leave "perfect" alone.
And God bless her. She is perfect... and to her,
I am too.



-our two lonely hearts on completely seperate paths
far between and few crossings periodically over glasses and laughs
-holding in a special sort of love and comfort,  
the times that we spend together, as dreams and fantasies long remembered
-our two wounded hearts, full in so many other ways,
complete "What might have been," playing at house for a few mythical days



Ah, but life moves on, (Shakespere said, "Parting is such sweet sorrow")
we must again forward tread each our own roads "on 'morrow"...
And accept that "Life is what it is" and
[as Woody Allen said] "Whatever Works"


-perhaps this seems to detached of a view to some,
but tell the truth
-don't I count my love?.. [her fair skin, my muse]
does my love less intensify as we part... [unbrused]?
-Our love is good I say,   and shall remain unblemished
because we always say goodbye and part with a kiss, when finished

is not life , and art and their existence in need of some balance.
-As so, our friendship has remained for years by knowing
of Our love... and its limits
very tired
still writing here and there
words still coming out..
tommorrow or the day after i'll read and then figure out
undefined Apr 2013
words can pass away
as all living must die
i believe in possibilities and you and i
i hope you'll see me true
know it's there safe and hidden
kept only for you
with each pen stroke
every breath driven
from depths of my heart's throat
all love letters unwritten
undefined Jun 2013
with the rise and fall of her every breath,  i believe
in the love and beauty capable in someone,  like me

if i were an artist i'd paint her for all,  to see
and make others tingle inside just wanting,  to be

as close to her

as she is   to me ...
undefined Oct 2014
I was writing this song one Sunday afternoon,
when I was feeling blue
and missing you
I strummed on some strings ,   strung together a few lines that
made me think of better times      
with you
... When  I go out on this sunny after-noon  
I'll try & think less
about you

I ran into some friends and  hung out for a while
started shootin' the ****    & came home plowed
I laid down in my empty room
it was hard not to think
about you
----------------------------------------------------------------­--
So , I'll pack up the car and I'll get outa town,
move up-state and drive 'til I've found
some-place   where I
can't  remember  you...

...And that's the last time I'll ever mention you .

© All Rights Reserved , Patrick W. Hamilton , 04242015
undefined Jan 2013
a child, now a man fallen into a void,
found a hole in the fabrics of space and time...
stumbling along a winter night's retreat,
one of life's "easy day" times.





[i keep a notebook with me , that i use to write things out...
i had some trouble remembering today and have just about come full circle now.
eventually i had to stop reading and just think .. "why would i lie to MySelf?"]
*if ya don't understand this, its okay..... to speculate*

:)
undefined Apr 2014
I make my peace daily   with the voices pounding (blazing)
in the mad terrific silence of the morning hue
Shooting  full loads in an opus ,
killing already dying ink from pen well to prison cell,
in my own personal crafty design of "Hell"
As my head rages on in a full frontal assault , i shower, get around some,
and shout to myself "Wake Up!"
Inner demons play chamber music and dine on my soul by fire light
so i watch the world turn and feel my insides burn
As everyday and night washes wreckage ashore
hoping everything turns out better than before
in the places that i don't visit (and wouldn't last a minute if I did) anymore

Places where life is unfair, people don't care,
and "boys" are made  "Men" every day .
A Place where a son or a daughter's face
cries helplessly for me to save . .
Where fathers outlive their kids
and Money & Power is ALL that there is .
Where people pass away almost daily
            [unless you've completely gone crazy]
.... (then you'll splatter your own matter when it's all over anyways)
In that Place,   it doesn't matter who's "wrong" or "right"
only who's Bigger and Meaner in a fight .

[It's a place where there never Rests In Pieces
                                                     the evils of life]
* This was "made" by a poet
             with no words to say
                                     a builder
             with no tools to create
                                     an artist
             without a pen or paint
                                     a potter
             without water or clay
                                     trying now to transform what holds deep
                                     to outside from within
                                     wondering if feelings can fall true and clear
                                                         [to see and fear]
                                     with imagination and color and hold
                                     the chance to be
                                    "Brave"
                                    or Slave
                                        to
                                    his heart
                                    and his trade .
undefined Feb 2013
buried in my room , sinking deeper under cover
my mind closes down and the thought of the door (that **** door)
gets farther and harder, and farther away...

a breaker blows. (power out)

i sit up. still can't make the door,
but now I'm writing

I Must Get out of this Room .  

-worst case scenarios / stuck in my head-

(having not slept last night, i was determined today would be different)

I get up, then change my mind about a hundred times regarding a shower
...and try ...and try,  to just make it out the door
I drank a beer, smoked a whole pack, and took my Abilify by four..

[still feeling somehow trapped with no escape
                                     ... by that **** door]
allright , here it is...
I write primarily for thereputic purposes, but I have, for some time now, given thoughts to maybe perhaps posting
one or two, or just a few.. pieces of this sort of thing on here... ?? Not really sure yet ...
... don't know if its apropriate enough (or understandable by enough) to post as "poetry"
heheheh
undefined Mar 2013
running 'round in my head ,
racing and chasing
they're thoughts i can't put to bed
now i write words
that are better left unsaid
only thing worth reading
are just words re-read
the voices, these things
screaming in my head
they tell me, they tell me
i'm better off dead
once again medication, you've turned a corner
science and technology, a brand new order
you've taken my heart and censored it entirely
pieces of me that have been lost along the way
god hopes that i don't forget, and remember this day
this night , this moment that you've shown your face
the last piece you took,
was all there was to take away
...
undefined Jan 2016
I've traveled through 45 states these past 4 years, I stayed awake most of last night counting them... I started, in some ways not far from bed where I lie now.
But, in many other ways, where I began seems to be millions of miles away.
I've walked many of those miles unafraid.
Some of those roads, I walked near wishing for death.
But along every path, down every road and across every track, I took you... I took you with me in my mind and in my soul, down every river, and along every shore.

I've written before that I felt lost, "adrift" at sea with no land in sight.
And I think, at times, I wanted nothing more... Nothing more than to remain adrift, and to die.
[Alone]
But now, lately I've begun to see and feel something different... A lighthouse, and beyond rocks, solid ground.

It may turn out to be nothing but sand, but it feels too much like "Hope" often.
I AM feeling also, more and more, that "fear" or Tide and Moon, and the cold loneliness of January night sky, so great and Empty... I'm not certain anymore that I could ever truly make the shore.

This, "Us," Me ....Will never turn out, or end on a happy note, (this isn't a movie), and I Am sorry, at last, for something.
... I am sorry that I may've given up at last.
I may never reach a shore.


I close my eyes, and I'm tumbling over and over and over and over, and over again in my Explorer; boxes bouncing, glass breaking, and it doesn't end.
I'm looking at tile floors through a bluish shade passing beneath me down corridor hallways.
We hit doors that open... And I think of you.

I see myself, skinny and sitting on a bed with wheels, wearing a paper night gown.
I want to raise my hand, in protest, or question, I'm not sure.
But half of my scalp, along with the entire right side of my face, slip quickly off and fall to the floor.

[i wake... and i write]

That's all I know to do anymore.
(Wake, and Write).
undefined Apr 2013
words read
as they trickle off page
and paint you a scene from
a memory, all but lost to time.
good art and good poetry ...
:) great stuff i'm seeing
undefined Apr 2014
miss you crying on my shoulder now and then
miss just having a drink or two as friends
miss staying awake at night and
talkin about what life'd be like
"if" we saw each other in a different light
I miss the times before we were "more than friends"

lay down in the grass, watch  stars shine overhead
you could clear away my tears with just a grin
when we would hang out late
and have a little much to drink
talk all night how "nothing could separate.."
I miss those times before we were "more than friends"
another "unfinished song.. lol
...probably all it'll ever be too
undefined Mar 2013
Alone in the park / 8:33
the morning's still young / birds are chirping
squirrels chase each other around trees
It's a good start to today / at 8:33
undefined Dec 2023
Bobby the cat sits in the yard outside,
with a ****** of crows on his mind.
Seven to be exact,
perched in a tree up high.
As Bobby,
down below in the grass where he lies
never flinching an eye, just stares wishing...     Wishing he could fly.

I,
made my bed.
I put prickly pear jelly on toast,
with an egg.
I ,
get me a coffee with lots of sugar,
and roll a cigarette.

I smoke, and watch,
and write and think...
And I see,
A little too much of Bobby the cat
sometimes, in me.
undefined Dec 2017
What is a person supposed to do ?
Hold up a sign that says "Will work for food"?
Tommy might've been a lost young man, 
 but i Never thought I'd see him holding out his hands

Back when we used to hunt for spots to skate
We had more guts than all the rest of "crazy eights "
Then a man came to the school one day
Tommy wasn't a fool, but he didn't make "A"s

And when the man started to talk and say
Things about "sign on bonuses" and good pay
Tommy thought about his mama, and then about his grades
The little brother his daddy left, and how Tommy might escape

So he signed his name
on the dotted line,
and left after graduation day


The family held pictures and spoke words of such praise  
  For the "sacrifices" and "honor" that their boy Tommy made
But when I turn the corner, first snow that Winter day,
And saw my old friend there hudled down on marketplace,

I didn't quite recognize him right away
Then I saw the marks of a veteran written on his face
A man who was once the boy when we'd run and play
Now held his hands out as strangers looked away

( still, the most
courageous friend of mine
to date )


We talked about our mamas, and very little about the rest
He asked if I still skateboard, I said "Getting too old for that"

And we both agreed
On how different things would be
If Tommy.         Hadn't lost  
                                                             His leg
I'm just speak texting this down here right now, to help me remember things a little later… I am hoping to make a song of this.
undefined Feb 2018
I... Recollect times past, to nullify my current state,
to back when peace shimmered our harbor, warm and safe.
My... Misleading memories of honesty, truth, and faith,
sincere and fortunate light sequester, life displaced.

In-the... Deep midst of my being, deluged a swamp of mossy lace,
troubled body of trembling thought, gasping for escape.
Heard... “Open yer eyes boy... I don't wanna ya to swallow yer tongue.”
That's when someone else decided, that I'd had "enough."

Saved... from freedoms of chaos, and now the allure of death,
for catheter and plastic gown, none by request.
How... many beats per minute will my cardiogram play?
How long must I be plugged in, before I get away?..

I'll... likely be spitting gray chalk for the next week or more,
I know these things because, I've been through this all before.
There's such a... cluttering of whispers, that they all try to hide,
when nurses talk about me, they mention “suicide.”

There's... Nurses, and doctors, all hoping I'll pull through,
not one will treat the failure, of who lie in I.C.U.
Next week... We'll identify problems, bits of understanding,
how many groups and puzzles to take, to ease
                                                                        my landings.
This is a very old poem, (one of the first one's that I wrote)...
I've had some trouble finding it, and thought that I should post it here, so that I know where it is next time :)
undefined Dec 2012
words have run deep for me today
its odd how leaving can make emotions surface
some nostalgic and wistful, others better unspoken
but I guess that's just the way it goes
I believe hearts procrastinate by nature

you fall in and out of love
and shelter feelings too long,
but when the chips are down
and all bets are in
there's just no avoiding honesty
and (no hiding your hand)

that's when it all comes out
all the disappointment and hatred,
melded with love and latent sorrows

how things are destined to go from here
well, i haven't a clue,
but my path now laid
i am leaving with no less hope than you
undefined Oct 2015
Clear as any path can be,
    four years, roaming .
I walk away,
    just leave .
When I find my way back
    you're still there for me .
I walk,  hike,  or stroll,
    no longer am I running . . .

When I think you've shown me all,
    we've finally reached the end,
you teach me more,
    another fork,  another bend .

I now see I am to wander your curves
    more than any lover with words
                        [endlessly] .
farther and farther down
            heart in the clouds
              feet on the ground
                          [free]
undefined Jul 2015
walking up the east coast
I studied history for a time
and in Charleston one evening
I wrote a poem .

played "original" songs in Charlotte
drank and danced with new friends every night
but after the 4th I packed it up and again
heard the call of the road .

making my way straight north
following the highway signs
I stopped just up the river in West Virginia
to rest traveled and weary bones .

laid out beside the Ohio
soaking up the sunshine
with my guitar, ruck sack and a dollar for the hat
totaling everything I own .
don't really like this much , for reasons , but I dig the way it ends .. so, i'll probably come back and cut all but that if I can use it somewhere :)
undefined Jul 2017
I sat down today to write you a letter
I wanted to explain how I'm never better

Since you went away, my whole life has changed
I miss seeing your face. Do ya ever hear me calling out your name?
Ever since we lost that day, I've never been better

...Can't stop the way I get so sad
over silly little things, like how you'd call me "Dad"

I write songs and play, and things are coming along okay
but it haunts my night and day, and I'm never better

I hate to go on this way
So I picked up my guitar to play
and tell myself the truth, that I'm never [ever, ever, ever] better

My heart is an open wound
that bleeds ink from pen to page

I'm writing this tune
hoping you'll hear it someday

It may not explain all that I have to say
Just know that since you've been away... I'm never better




I sat down today
                              to write you a letter .
new
undefined Nov 2012
new
Dawn of a new day
watch it rise
last smoke 'till who knows when
turn the heater down and become one with the cold
no more hiding out
new season of life
new days and nights to come
make a decision to crawl out of that shell at last
music is playing
all the movies I've seen
now is the time and here is the moment when
I start again
purposefully
undefined Mar 2016
'Round back alleys, and down black side streets
sits [laying] newspaper mattresses, and makeshift houses with no heat.

Just a step, or two, from Big City Lights, (a rolling neon technicolor wasteland),
lives the bottom tip of the bottle, and a short supply of all, but upturned hands.

Two streets over, over-the-top sparkle of high heels, and scantly draped dresses.
Down here, dweller's fever's rush down from old minded babe's spiralings of deep depression.  

The language most commonly spoken is lies, but it's not much different up hill.
What's not translatable from "bag," "spliff," or "pill," can be easily related with "shot," "bottle," or "bill."

I find myself fluent, a traveled veteran of countrysides,
adjusting to the headache of the city's heart, but unwilling to take the full ride.
Not Finished Yet . . . Just wanted to put this on here so I don't lose it , I have to add to this, but right now I just have other things to get finish also.
undefined Jun 2014
watching the moon high in Colorado sky
I started writing this out in the dark of the night

waiting for dawn to bring on a "Home"
that the tree-top blue reminds me of .

A silent song plays in my head ,
thoughts and memories drift like fog on the wind .

painting a picture with words to express
untamed, unnamed feelings that boil in the breast .

It sings sometimes . . .
from the corners of her eyes ,
the warm glow of the west .
Ready, willing and always at best
to fall from midnight's mountain moonbeams ,
far more frightening a thought than would seem ,
and dance upon tables of unrest
[of] this weary broken traveler's still beating chest .

?
undefined Apr 2016
Making my way down the road
in a story yet to unfold
Dogs started barking, so I sat down
and kicked off my shoes

Stranger say, "Boy ya carry quite  load"
is the journey worth it's weight in gold?
So I picked up my guitar
and started singing the blues
----------------------------------------------------

I been on this road so long,
can't remember quite where it began.
I held on this guitar so hard,
now it's my only friend.

Well, I been ramblin' up and down,
trying to find an end.
I aint been Home
sense I can't remember when.
-------------------------------------------------
Been all over this country, coast to coast,
more times than I can count.
Playin' guitar, drinkin' and a fussing,
trying to find my way out.

I started out at the bottom, not a penny to my name,
and let the world do their best.
I came here with nothing,
and I still got most of it left.
Am/Dm-7/Am/E-7
Am/Dm-7/Am-E-Am

[ch]
Am/Dm-7/Am/E-7
Am/Dm-7/F-G-Am
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