In the crackle of embers
Just before the morn
Sounding like laughter before the stage is set
Night is our curtain
For a show you won't remember..
It's alright to be a little forlorn

It had happened, you're sure
Just behind the arch
Familiar faces you know you've never known
Chased to the edge of the dark
It's on the tip of your tongue
Just barely off the mark

And it all slips right past
Like the last string of smoke
The whispers of an unsatisfied end
But nothing really lasts
As the day is broken
Just around the bend.

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

Inhale
Exhale
Fruits of our labor
Hidden in the breaths we take
Fresh
Stale
Nothing seems to explain
The reasons each one matters
Huff
Puff
Pass out from lack of oxygen
Fatigue sets in
Breathe new life into me
With every prayer
Every second I waste
Compliments to my lack of concern
My life is alot like smoke
Once created
Slowly fades into the stars
There only for the addicted
Once obtained
Brutally abused

Time never
                     stops.

Always moving forward

tick


          tock

the longest marathon

tick


         tock

I see you
        
mocking me with that
         tick tock

take a minute
        
                          tick

                 ­                  rest your hands.

We constantly flip the switch
                                  footsteps approaching *
“Hurry”
                                                 “Shhh”
               *flick
They can’t know we live in the dark

Crimson are the rivers flowing
blood eternal bone and skin
you and I, my sisters, brothers
all of earth as one akin
plants and animal air and sun
God Eternal we are one.

I
Can't find a way
Can't catch a break
Why
Is it so hard

Why do I have to
Do the things I do

Why does it have to
Work the way it does

Why do things

Conspire against me
Why is it hard to breathe

Why

I didn't mean to fall in love
But I did
And you didn't mean to hurt me
But you did.

dear god i am but
a nose wafting in the scent
of your effluence

I will save my last lines for you
The final sentences
I will save for when we are alone

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

momentary peace
fleeting feelings of something
let me fall asleep
let me fall asleep

all ends, it all ends
it’ll never last
i’ll pretend, i’ll pretend

why won’t you let me go?
why won't you let me go?

i know

Isn’t it funny,
The happiness we pretend to have
Is the very thing
Holding us back from living.

Unfortunately "Cs" look like an "A",
after the "Fs" have their say.

Often, an image returns to my brain
That makes me shudder
I drive myself insane
Over the words I'm too afraid to utter
About a stain that I've kept hidden
A part of my history quarantined
Can I ever outrun this past?
Will my conscience ever be cleaned?

Or am I just trying to run from my own shadow?

Laying in silence at the dead of night.
Tossing and turning t no delight.
Eyes closed shut. could say closed tight.
Body parts fidgeting from left to right.
I can't sleep! Not tired just quite.
Laying in silence at the dawn of daylight.
Restless and tired. I'm not ready to put up a fight.

you would light the candle on your desk
just as your mother told you
and you would pray
just as she told you.

i wish i could have been with you.

“Falling in love” is a contradiction in itself, because in love there is only the rising, the ascending, not the falling.
You can not fall in love, but rather, rise.

Prayer

Give me the coffee in the morning
To face the day and  have the energy
To change things that I can change
and
Give me the red wine in the evening
To accept the things I could not change
and have a peaceful sleep

Harald Pfeffer 2-3-2021

there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

The Universe smiled when you were born
She told the Whales of a gentle child
who was born to make the world better
she sang to the birds
of a soul so kind and funny
she almost wish she could take credit in creating you

Now you sit in a cubicle
working your dreams away for other people's luxury.
The walls felt caved in, but it never crushes you
You can't work if you are dead.
the ceiling of a blinding white light
Small talks that leave you emptier than before

But you did not disappoint The Universe
She understands
She may sign and look away
but in the smallest kindest of your actions
she writes a new fate for you
a path sealed by the cosmos.

Canoeing
written March 7th, 2021

I have spent the last few days
canoeing the Mackenzie River
making the journey in a book
with maps and words.

As I read it takes me back
to canoeing in my youth
the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness
along the northern border of Minnesota.

I can feel the paddle
pulling through the water
and hear the loons
crying at night.

The land around me
almost untouched since
Huron, Chippewa, Cree
Dakota and Ojibwa eyes
were the only ones
that had ever seen it.

Now I travel in thought and memory
the clear cold waters of the lakes
the portages through forested hills
taking me from one gem
of a lake and a memory
to the next.

Sometimes . . .

broken bones

and

broken hearts

don't grow

back straight

It's 11:11
and for the first time
after a very long time
I'm wishing for myself
and not for you

I give you
my heart
in pieces.

Piece
by
piece.

One
by
one.

Please,
be gentle with it
as it's as fragile as
butterfly wings.

Don't hurt me
(on purpose)

I will break.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

you confirmed all of my horrors
when you said you can't touch me sober

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.