Some people live purgatory lives;
they dance with the invitation
of death
just long enough
for the moment
to become romantic
then they usher the
entire idea
right out the door
as if being
friends
with the end
is an easy way
to pretend

they cannot
         go at any moment.

Some people chase
   the idea of death
so much
they forget to
do something
as simple
yet profound
as live.

We spend every day
repeating cycles
and trying to make
our routines
perfect
then remain
frustrated at

     everyone and ourselves

for not being able to get this fluctuating life right

yet-

I am learning that getting it right
takes doing it wrong
more than
quite a few
times

and

that is simply something neither you or I can be ashamed of.

We cannot substitute the lessons
that failure and patience bring us-
all we really can do is
face our hardships
with limited understanding
and obtain what we can
from our moments of misery.

I am finding more and more
         that myself
  lingers in those moments
and I am beginning to appreciate
the days
I spend
catching
       bleek
          & subtle
                     glimpses
           of what I can

become.

You see,
I used to fear my own presence.
Shake my head at my own sight.
Be disgusted with my thoughts
and ruin my existence.

I used to do all of these things because I felt
helpless.
I was not the person taking charge
      for my life.
I was not the person owning responsibility
for their actions.
I was not the person acting on their decisions
although the choices were petrifying.
I was not that kid because

I DID NOT YET UNDERSTAND WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF.

I had yet to find the opportunity in my failures.
I had yet to see the potential in my flaws.
I had yet to understand that there are twenty-four hours
in a single day
and we can own every single one of them
when we are not focused on defeat.

And that sounds a little extreme at first,
I know,
but if I can convince you of anything today-

please do not be afraid of change.

Welcome it with open arms and be prepared for
your entire life to get uncomfortable
when you start being honest with the world
and most importantly-
yourself.

I have let go of so much heartache
from no longer pretending I am okay.

I have let go of so much anxiety
from not allowing others to hold
their expectations over me.

I have let go of so much depression
from standing up for myself
because I was sick of the world
telling me NO.

I have let go of so much
useless negativity
and have said goodbye
to so many friends
and relatives
because
choosing compassion
over what they took from me
always kept me on
the better course;

a step ahead
when they were looking behind
and reflecting
by the time
they could realize
intuition wins.

but I guess depending on which way you are looking at it-
all of this is just bragging of course.

So I will never mind you
if you are not listening.

I will forgive you
when you come around.

BUT IF YOU ARE LISTENING LOUD,
HERE RIGHT NOW-

know that I am too.

And for every dream you are chasing-

    it is chasing after you.





Thank you.

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.

Ten years ago tonight
we were watching
our mother die.


The bedroom -  with her
beloved blue shutters -
littered with used
medical equipment

her low moans.

Someone inside me
remembers the stench
of cancer

Now  her three daughters
stand in a triangle with
our backs turned -


and no one says a word.

Inside
       of  
           my    
               head
            
                        Entombed  
                                 is  
                                      a   
                              
                         B   R   A   I   N

                                      Can’t
             ­                                shake
                                                      this    ­        
                                                        ­   feeling
                                                       ­    That  
                                                             ­it’s
                                                             ­not    
                                                      ­       the      
                                                            s­ame
                                                     Infected sickness
                                                Covered with dull pain
                                         A rabid                          werewolf
                         ­             I’m trying                             to tame
                                     Almost off                              the leash
                                    I tug at                                    the reigns
                                    Hold              on  ­       with       sheer will
                                    Have          nothing   ­    to                 gain
                                
                           ­        My                       efforts;                  A joke
                                   Fighting               a freight                   train
                                    Through              gr­it teeth             I smile
                                      Demeanor             ­                       I feign
                                          Failure          ­    coming            soon
                                      ­       My life,         one more        stain


                                             ­                    Lost
                                                          ­         sight
                                                                ­      of
                                                                ­      it
                                                                ­        all
                                                   ­               To
                                                              w­hat
                                                            ­ it
                                                 pertains
                                                      ­I
                                                    am
                                              sinking
                                                down
       ­                                            Spinning in
                                       the drain
                                                    An
                                               endless
                                              battle
           ­                             Forever
                                     the
                                bane
                           ­  Of
                      my
           existence

            No                   longer                    I’m                   sane………

Distorted picture
Blurred lines
Squint your eyes
All will be fine

Flashes of light
Beyond your control
Capture the moment
Don’t lose your soul

Take it all in
Just be you
Even if it’s blurry
The picture will come through

Own yourself
Break through the mold
Don’t be a cookie cutter
Or else your cards will fold...

Poetry to me...

Is the space in-between
The heart and the mind
The beat and the think
The in and the out
The lost and the found
The moment it all
Comes back around
The river that flows
Out from the soul
To parts unknown
Places untold
All that is seen
In the hidden deep
All this you see

Is poetry to me...

When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say