As my hands comb through my hair,
I stare between my knees
looking into the depths of this
unfamiliar wooden floor.
The foundation creaking
from the wind howling outside,
its feral cry
full of pent up emotions,
filling the night with chaos,
mirroring the landscape of my emotions.
Pictures so lovingly framed,
propelled by chaotic winds,
splash
into an unbroken lake
sending ripples scrambling away
as they try and escape the touch
of these cherished memories.
The golden light of a sunny day
spent laughing and crying
under pine trees,
shines from the depths.
The cold grey light of a rainy day
spent looking out the tear stained window
trying to make sense of this hurricane of emotions,
cuts through the inky black water.
The constellations of so many memories
seems just in reach
as I syphon this inky black water
through my pen,
drawing from the depths of my soul,
a straight IV
into these flatlining lines
of this black notebook
that holds my soul.

she doesn't do it for you
she doesn't wake up for you
she doesn't paint her lips for you
or add that sparkle to her eye for you
she is the sun
she is the moon
she is the Stars
and she does it all for herself

Sit quietly upon a rock and close your eyes. Hear the sound of the water flowing over stones and around curvy banks. Hear ducks quacking and splashing in the water. Listen to a frog croaking on a Lillie pad. Hear the distant call of a squirrel as it races from tree to tree along the muddy banks as deep cool water flows by. Become part of nature, if just for a little while. Listen to what the river says as the water speaks to you and the different creatures that live because of it tell you their stories, each in their own unique way.

When she all alone in here room
She cry's
When all you got are these four walls
Not so hard feel so small
How come no one stopped her
When she said
Mabe I'm better of dead

Now here I am wishing
I got there in time
To stop you
But here I am
With gun in hand
Wondering if it will be enough
Stop voices in my head

Surrounded by water
I feel peace
As I let my body
Slip underneath the surface
I'm at home

I'm happy
There's only one thing
In front of me
And it's clear
And it carries me
There's no place that I'd rather be

I could spend my whole life
Intertwined with the current

Everything goes quiet
There's no stress
Not a voice inside my head

Tentacles, tendrils, invading, intruding
Suffocate the sulci
What is, seems otherwise
What seems, isn’t
A succubus, seducing
An incubus, enticing
Beckoning
“Follow me.”

A steady trickle
Tiny droplets
Against the granite
Cutting holes where once were none
Particles carried on the wind
Smoothing jagged faces
Polishing
Destroying?
Ask the mountain.

Have you ever thought about
  what your mother's love is worth?
It's the closest thing to Heaven
  any man can feel on earth!

It's so meaningful and true
  as she holds you in her arms.
She'll protect and keep you safe
  from this life and all it's harms!

She'll stand right by your side
  no matter what you've done.
She'll be the one to hold you up
  when your so called friends are gone!

Yes she brought you here to earth
  and you'll find she'll take you out;
If at one time in your life
  her precious love you ever doubt

For no matter what the time,
  when my running now is done;
Mom'll wrap me in her arms
  saying "Welcome home my son!"

So listen as I tell you now;
  you will never find another,
Heart thats filled so full of love,
  as the heart of my mother!

Spent the evening
in the restaurant, surreptitiously looking
at distant women between the heads of men
  Games ensued
when I caught some
looking at me
     The eyes are important
     in the connections of us
     I flicked mine: this
     and that way:
tipsy slur in the way I threw the eyes
and the women I was playing with,
like I, playing and talking and playing
the people we were talking to had no clue;
the waitrons waited, the chefs never waiting;
no one had a clue.

Suddenly came a wave,
once silent in the sea of feeling,
and took energy
from every current before its time
then in one great sweep
swooped me and the sand of my spirit,
shaken like a potent drink,
to quake and proclaim to myself:
  There are so many women in the world
much more than men
for so much beauty
how can one ever be committed to only one?

     Always too* patient
I am then they are gone
to live again in my thoughts
resurrected as regret;
I pay for these evenings:
with unquenchable eyes,
with the big-chested wave collapsing into foam,
with the promise of love -
with myself.
This is what life is
to those who wait too* long:
all one ever kissed were eyes
while the ocean erupts
within the chalice of vulnerability
one's lips tremble from a safe distance;
but love never was the dying wave at one's feet.