all stationary the tense of surroundings  new
in between busstops and not knowing subways or cabs
never having been in the buildings shadows
so tall imposing
I walked a lost path among a strange imposing crowd
trying to get my bearings
a foothold
while the neon flashed
the traffic honked screeched slammed
as I wandered never as alone
got pushed taken along adrift in the
crowded undertow
me a man that swam in a pond once
with  big fish gars and goldfish now
just adrift with no horizon
that I think is what scared me
all manmade light and skies and clouds and shadows
and the lack of human interchange
no talking no eye contact
but the sounds as loud or louder than
the Friday rants at
Blue Bob's restaurant
or the dancing people
at Big Bill's jamboree
back home
in Bama
I felt like I was in
a strange world
and I found out ten
months later
I was    
it was not just my imagination
and I was not having a bad trip
it is all so alien
a lonely hayseed blown so far away

I find the glass to be half empty,
He finds the glass half filled,
It's the same thing,
Except it is not literally,

Each one of us forgets, conveniently
That the glass can be refilled
Just as easily as it can be drained empty

And it's up to us
But we are too busy clanking the empty glasses together
Till they shatter,
Or, try to drown ourselves,
When they overflow.


I take a step in,
He repeats,
We both try to co exist in a way,
That neither of us are actually leaning,
Both trying to be friends,
With strangers' acceptance of how one is
I like to chatter, he wears a cloak of silence,
Except there's not much difference between either.

And it's up to us,
But we are too busy screaming to override the unwelcome words,
Or try to dance our imagination on the tune of silence,
Away from the cruel intentions, camouflaged with soft words
Except there's not much difference between either,
We both are shaped by our hurt, and undone by happiness.

I find the life to be a continuation of misery,
Add in some whining and self deprecating poems
Different faces, worn by the same ghosts
Different paths, same dead ends
Pursuit of ever evasive happiness,
Life is never changing.
You think every thing changes,
It's just me who is always going to look the same
To you at least

And it's up to us,
Whether we remain the same or not,
To grow up and grow apart,
Or to Shrink in and fade away
Except I look around,
And I know for you, it's always me
And you look back
And know I'm the one who has always been there

I find the glass half empty,
You find it half filled,
It's the same thing
Except it's not literally.

The sun is just as      passing as I am,
but there's light in days     that helps a world grow.