Eyes which cannot see,
Ears that do not hear.
A tongue that doesn't taste,
A nose which cannot smell
And skin that doesn't feel.
A heart that's alive, aware, awake
in sensory overload.
Seeing
Hearing
Tasting
Smelling
Feeling
You...
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 12:45 AM UTC
There's a hole in my heart the size
Of a child left behind
A child with my eyes
With a brilliant mind
And unanswered whys.
There's a hole in my heart the size
Of a friend who has died
A friend from the start
But in time, as the tide
We drifted apart.
There's a hole in my heart the size
Of a love that is gone
Of trust betrayed
Like words from a song
Of a man being played.
There's a hole in my heart the size
Of the depth of new love
As wide as trust anew
As tall as the sky above
And just big enough for you.
-Me
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
I've been deadlocked in a battle of words with myself,
cursing this feeling of being here but not having been there,
and scratching my brain with mental fingers,
digging for more to recall,
digging for more than just what's close to the surface.
What I do have, I can hold in my hand,
study intently for triggering clues, striving to write down what's barely there.
I can hold it in my grasp, trying to absorb memories contained in images.
But it is hard, not knowing if there's enough remembered to actually put down in words.
I have memories.
But I fear, not enough.
The missing is real.
The missing is tough.
Finality is even more so.
Happy Birthday, brother.
Tod Barefoot
04/19/1964 - 12/21/2016
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
The clock illuminates incomprehensible numbers
like scattered ancient runes.
They mock me in low, hushed tones,
and I close my eyes to silence them.
They whisper how they're all too willing to share secrets,
and even against my hopes, they'll soon share mine.
So I wait in their crimson glow.
Exposed against the darkness, secrets darker than hope, growl, laugh, cry...
I don't even know why I wait; and just who am I waiting for?
Memories won't reveal nor dreams conceal
what's meant for discovery.
I wait, for time in these numbers mean nothing.
I am nothing.
Just a man with a heavy heart, cluttered head, and too many dreams
resting upon these pillows.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
I sing a song with no rhyme.
I laugh at the latest woes.
I talk to animals and rocks and trees.
I dance when alone.
It's OK.
Give to get.
Love to be loved.
Give thanks to get more.
Let go to hold on.
It's still OK.
And I'm right here.
-Me
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
On nights like tonight
when I don't come outside
until the full moon
is already in the sky,
way up high,
small and brilliant white...
that's when I wonder
if it even rose at all
or if it was just hung into place
among the clouds and starry space.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 1:14 PM UTC
It was a partial glance of a love that's gone
Face half hidden; my mind sees the whole.
Why still, does my heart seem to be set upon
Dredging up memories?
Is it just to torment my soul?
The present is now
And now in the present, at last
I took a quick glance
Of the love that's passed into the past
And I see.
So this I say to you...
I loved you with my heart's passion.
With that same love I bade you farewell.
And as I told you, I will always love you.
With that same love I wish you well.
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
I see your face when my eyes are closed.
Your smile; a secret of upturned lips.
Your eyes; the brightest stars,
Yet darkest, blue ocean.
I hear you in the silence, when my heart is a
Thump,
Thump,
Thump.
And in the loud roar of my conflicted mind.
Years have I known you,
Years I've adored you.
Perhaps even loved you?
Perhaps in a place other than here.
Or in a time other than now.
Years apart, unknown to you
That my thoughts keep a memory.
I thought you knew.
I'm pretty sure you did.
What I wanted, I made known.
What I want, is still unspoken.
But I see you in my blindness,
Hear you in my deafness,
Keep you in a hazy dream.
And hold on.
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Haiku Hibachi;
A syllabic restaurant
With chicken fried rice.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
With much protest and annoyance
Backed up to a marked wall
Gauge joy with graphite lines
Escalating in modest steps
Time passing without haste
Lines increase inch by inch
And before you can grasp the moment
Little joy grows up
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC