I'm growing up; not growing stronger.
In between the time when 3 men loved me I forgot how to love myself.
I feel isolated, alone.
I am dependent on a boy who does not see me.
I signed a lease, so I stay.
But my soul...it wanders.
It wakes each morning and stretches its limbs to the ceiling and walls.
It pushes on the windows and bangs on my door.
Quickly I reel it in.
Before the neighbors hears its screams or see the chains that hold it back.
I bury it into me.
I make it lay straight, flat and neat under my skin.
But it battles me.
From my eyes I can see it taunt me in the mirror.
It weaves my hair into knots.
It whispers pretty things to pull my gaze upward.
But I look down. I watch my feet.
I am tired.
We are tired, this has to end.
Maybe tomorrow I'll let my soul win.
Maybe tomorrow we will both take flight and instead of whispering we will sing.
I will look at the sky.
I will loose myself in the stars and I fly with the birds.
I will skip on clouds and pluck trees like flowers.
He slid closer to me and tucked me to his side.
There he held me.
I wish I had a picture of the way we looked.
I believed it then - that this was the hardest thing either of us had done or would do in our lives.
I saw it in the way he refused to look at me.
I felt it in the tears that rolled from his eyes to the hair on my head.
I knew then, at the very end of it all, I had found love.
One so great it that it did and forever would rival all others.
I've looked for it since and found with disappointment and drawn out pain. There would be no replacement.
Since then I have learned to invest all that untapped love into something else. I don't know where it's going but every night I send it out into the world hoping that it finds it's way to something greater than myself.
Without the photo I'm not sure some days. My mind often crosses what I so desperately want with what little I can recall. Preserved is either an embellished or blemished memory. One that I treasure and fall asleep thinking of every night.
I think he loved me as much as I loved him.
The lessons that I have learned from that boy created an unstoppable strength inside me. Completely bullheaded and delusional I continue to reach blindly for that spot beyond the moon itself. Back beyond the stars, to what ever it is that is waiting for me.
It's funny how we use our lives to search for what we've always had.
I think we grow crazy when the regrets of our past and the guilt of our conscience linger too long in the company of time and silence.
Rest well my friend. It’s not the end,
and until then, we’ll just pretend.
That you and I will someday find,
our winding way backwards in time.
The other side, it’s kinda vague.
It kinda makes,me wanna wake.
From this dream I can’t have dreamt
because you see, I’m spent.
Memories I have kept
have slowly crept
and caused the tears
that I had wept
to leave behind
their slack confines
and cloud the days just like my mind.
I fill our places with new faces
searching for small traces.
Like bits of you inside of them.
Rest well my friend. It’s not the end.
I seem to find myself entwined
and mesmerized by those
whose lives you've helped align.
It seems my love you still live on.
As seasons change, I rearrange
the thoughts I used to entertain.
They, like I have grown from pain.
Get lost with me and let us hide
amid the memories of my mind.
The other side shall call me too.
Starting with the morning dew
and through the setting sun,
someday my time here too,
will cease and be done.
The pretty girl gets what the pretty girl wants
and the ugly chick goes where the lonely people go
and together they wait for the day
when the sun goes down and stays away
and we all
They hosted a candlelight walk,
for those willing to say farewell.
The cold was just plain cold, to some unfeeling.
Fires warmed a pair of twin sisters.
The girls laughed and ran on ahead.
Parked and waiting, I hid in my car.
I crouched low and silently shivered.
No one saw me.
You can hide from people.
They are easy to see and quick to dodge.
They are clumsy,
dragging their feet loudly
But people change.
And when they change,
they lose their shape.
They’re not saggy or gray,
they’re not anything,
but they must be something.
We are all something.
Something we don’t understand.
When people change,
they are much harder to hide from.
I couldn't hide and I knew she knew I was trying.
I got out of my car,
and ran to catch the twins that were already gone.
It was supposed to be the start of the day.
When he had a heart, as fate would have it.
Standing next to his hero; eyes open and fixed,
distinctive of someone who’s dying.
He checked for a pulse
and found none.
A moment later they arrived,
shocked his heart back into action
and he was taken
to determine what happened and why.
Known for leading charges in to debauchery.
Fearsomely handsome burning blue eyes that long outlived his passing.
“Didn’t leave life unlived, did he?”
Reformed, unrepentant; grown wraithlike, diminished.
“If you give up, don’t moan about it; go back.”
The scholar who led a rebellion against performance.
The Lion in Winter.
The Ruling Class.
My Favorite Year.
Born August- the son of Constance, he grew up.
He gave up drinking- he did not give up smoking.
Cigarettes in an ebony holder, green socks, overcoats and trailing scarfs.
Good parts few and far between.
Waiting…you could wait forever.
Together with fine people, good companions with whom I've shared my belief.
that one should decide for oneself,
when it is time to end ones stay.
I bid a dry eyed grateful farewell.
Audiences, critics, curiosity seekers
“My Favorite Year”
unlikely to win awards,
he clutched his statuette.
many appear replaced, similar and programmed.
rushed to keep up with cuts and shifts in government.
work for other narrow organizations.
Groups are asking.
They are looking
for a broader change.
aimed to convince employees
not to ask about history.
that’s completely irrelevant
unless subpoenaed to witness.
I don’t want to be in love again.
I don’t want to rekindle what I lost.
I don’t want to feel that vulnerable again- ever.
I am quite comfortable in the fort I've made;
strong brick walls and a strong brick roof
and very few windows with very thick glass.
When it rains I am dry.
When it is cold I am warm inside and
when it is hot, I have a sweet cool shade.
Only ever do I miss the wind,
the way it’d comb my hair,
the way it’d help me breathe.
The way it’d hold me until I fell asleep.
How it would carry flowers and lay them at my feet.
It’s sinful cunning and charming smile.
The wind was my friend, until it finally blew me away.
Do I miss anything? Yes.
Most days I think I miss the wind, but only the wind.
Whoever gave power and speed to such unfeeling objects should be cursed;
to live in terror, to be stripped of anything that might hide them from those in pursuit.
Leave now and seek refuge in the dark places of this world.
Stay until you are one with the blacks and grays.
Stay until the bright sight of sun causes you pain and your reflection, unfamiliar.
You have misused our trust. Mistaking patience and silence, for stupidity, and ignorance.
You can take no more; I have nothing left to give.
You will take no more, we will not let you.
Enough, your gifts are useless. You, begging, it will go unheard.
Beseeching the deaf with speech brings only annoyance.
It is done.
We give you our pity, our silence, and exude no energy.
You are not now, and time revealed, ever were, more than a child.
I watch you,
in my open hand,
touched are your eyes.
then the other.
feeling her way,
with no way of knowing;
Perhaps for you there is no flight,
startled, you walk away.
Sometimes, I cannot bear the world,
but we are different,
you a humble soul.
I, monster that I am,
bow down before you,
We must persist that we are objects of imperfection,
sculpted by a Creator's hands,
and in the eyes of our maker,
we are never done.
Contributing on to the end,
a memory of our being,
to be fixed in the minds of our counterparts.
We will never know the truth behind their love.
To divulge such a secret would in time turn it false.
It is not that we are not good,
But without the secret,
there would be no propelling of oneself.
And if the Creator blessed all of us, with a conscience of steel;
we would always be better tomorrow than we are today.
Resolve defined: firm determination to do something.
To know resolve is to say;
I will always be better tomorrow regardless of what I am today.
What should we question if not ourselves?
The coming of days?
The renewal of thirst?
No. Such things are certain.
Send your thoughts elsewhere
Let them keep company among
the troubles of tomorrow.
Inclined to such foolish lives,
we breath for our fashions.
I beg you to remind me of a time,
when I might have lived for more.
Why should peace come only
to those who are in His favor?
Surely all desire such a gift.
Perhaps we are still struggling
to earn such clemency.
Hush, your time will come.
Of all the truths
the blessing of birth brings,
let them bear witness.
It is, that time gives one all it has.
And if regret should lie in anything -
it will be in ceasing not that which is always present.
Such as a mother love.
Nothing is greater.
There are many like me here-
Our prayers fill the air
like hymns filling silence.
Valid lines; knowing their potential for inspiration
replace a growing lack of education,
befuddled into breeding violence.
The beginning sings and the ignorant march on.
Elicit passion from little thought,
entertaining the toils our country has brought
before the world to see.
Following blindly, the ignorant march on.
Ye of little faith let me condemn you,
for I sit upon a throne of a hundred shoes.
Miles and miles I have walked - with blisters to prove
That hand in hand, the ignorant march on.
Obsessed with the pursuit of pain we entertain,
ridiculous ideas lacking any notion to gain
anything but wasted time.
And at the end of the day the ignorant march on.
Out of practice and lacking poise,
fumbling blindly through our boisterous ways,
we seek change without commitment,
leading others to join, the ignorant as they march on.
To find somewhere safe,
we live in fear,
teaching the understanding of confusion.
Oh, but to go everywhere,
we will challenge life itself.
And it will shake,
with the might of our potential.
When I know nothing else,
not where to place faith,
nor how to distinguish,
the blurring of days.
The town burns without fire,
scatterings decorate the streets;
Runes of lives no longer lived.
Forgotten by disaster, I survived.
Mental transcendence; torrent.
I hear you talking but I don’t listen
When did we become these people?
Find me the conditions conducive to life,
and I will be unable to find any fulfilled.
It is in our nature always
to want, mass, more, supplementary.
Without quench will be need.
Will one brave; lonely and just, be enough?
Life only prolonging a barmy parody
until confronted with one of seven?
Found guilty on all accounts,
failing even, to screen their future.
inanimate and cold,
edges crisped with set tools.
Do you want to be here?
Or do you simply do as you’re told?
You do not die
The absence of life is death,
as the absence of light is dark.
Belief deemed- burning can only be seen
in relation to that which would smother.
Pressing belief to emerge befuddled,
so shall we persist in futile struggle?
Use ability, a gift that has blessed,
enhancements, emerge into unique success.
Leading on to evolve, until age-
leaves its contenders trapped; a skin cage.
You do not die. That is fear believing lies.
In an attempt to avoid distrust,
we will continue, on, out and up.
none want to break
caring to show weakness
being an undesirable trait
how to cope without losing
is like waiting out a drought
with peanut butter
avoid scattering your pieces
by alleviating pressure
strengthen the foundation
then shoot sure
Sisters are comparison,
trying to add…
Expecting moot stature
in vestiges of past days.
On Earth- be curious.
the difference between honesty and belief.
A better person is waiting
in the reflection of yourself
through those who know you.
Always wanting more,
I find myself needing
To be inexhaustible
With exhaustion comes death
Sleep will search on
I am no where to be found
Counterpart making sure of that
I lie here wanting –
Nothing more than to coexist
Vigilante due to the status of their past,
to climb rungs so that status may protect them.
Calling vulnerability to themselves
so that others may simply live.
What a strange unwanted post.
developed from skewed senses
outlined by a greater power,
gives me anger, and greed first.
So that I might know
that I arrived on my own.
Base it on my ability
to develop self
and not my ability to obtain as I have been directed.
my hands are cold and thin,
worn down by life and sin.
searching into my eyes,
to the life you find,
among things that lie lifeless and cast aside
are haunting words
i never had the courage to say.
Teaching others to fall,
so that their bodies
can be steps to ascension.
That is a person
I do not care to be.
Teachings of history,
prove success to one quality -greed.
Success defined as the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.
Instant gratification means a great deal,
when the other option is death.
First we must change our definition,
second we must change ourselves,
then- changing the world will come.
East as American snow in July.
Many words will I write.
Few will be noted as “worthy”.
Yet shall I stop?
All words noted will rarely be the same.
So I will write all words that lead my fingers to twitch and my heart to soar.
Never will I do all that life wants of me.
My children – keeping up their own bargains.
Never will they know of mine.
I am irreplaceable.
Prices paid sum up regrets, lessons, changes, ugly things.
Little souls carry vengeance.
Old minds treasure memories.
Never will I do all that life wants of me.
Don’t enjoy space.
I wanna feel.
And if everything moves on.
The less you stop.
The laugh can’t ask the world.
Outstretched for too long.
Swimming to you through raindrops,
early in the morning.
You will find people are beautiful.
Where ever you are,
carry me to you.
Then walk us home.
Stand before the world, for it is your stage.
Speak truth, for it is your conscience.
Stand tall, so you might be seen.
Speak slow, so others may take note.
And bow only when life itself ceases.
oh little tree you are my favorite
skinny in the most unwanting way
one season? two? to know for certain
would be the end of you,
my inanimate love
feelings you cannot have
joys you will never feel
but nourishment and growth
breathe life into you
like the wind through your lost leaves
do not change please
never before have i seen leaves such as yours
i walk by twice a day sometimes six
always in even numbers,
for one can only go so long as one comes back.
you will outlive us all
immortal my soul
ever changing my shell
dark skies be our time
lacking the ability to witness
what will forever be a secret
if only brief
i will not with certainty
let you see me weep once more
in a place created from love
enough to mark it holy
will i yearn for you or
will i mourn for me
on my back in a pack are my glasses for seeing
in my hands like a sleeping child, my laptop
shoes without traction
three seconds to swing
onto my back?
or accept falling on my face?
natural selection no longer exists
therefore I choose the back
I can exist for days with visions of haze
however without my laptop
I feel I would be lost.
"I don’t think you will be able to cope" they say
"I don’t think you will be happy" they say
"I don’t think you will…" the say
they say many things
To them I say…"lets us find out"
we stay within confines constructed of fear
why we do not leave is mysterious on its own
for we find ourselves stuck
reluctant to change
be it fear that things will be worse?
or be it fear that they will be far better than ever before?
oh the world.
It will drill you
leaving little time for emotional distilment
caring nothing for a futures fulfillment
more than once you will seek
something already sought
there at the edge of your thought
out, clinging to a limb
where others slowly join you
time like the wind, blew
You break and fall
because you lacked the courage
to leap and fly
Sitting as strangers do,
squishing closer to one’s self,
Be the fall.
Begin on and continue through the night.
The author has given away,
without screening as I had.
Deep into your own roles we play.
Transfering next year,
I get to play mom.
I watch the sun set.
It is as alone and secluded as I.
Think us the only two?
How many others watch from their own secret corners?
When it leaves,
I wish it would take me too.
Never would I feel cold again.
You want to make me smile?
shrug off your clothes, stay awhile.
its only you and me
locked up inside our wild minds
Catch me off guard,
i dare you.
to compare you
to my wildest dreams.
Let them mean something again.
when you were little
and you thought silly things
like hawaii was the only island in the world....
I miss that.
not the ignorance
but the mind blowing
when you learned
there were more islands.
will there always be more islands?
Could heavens tears fall as beautifully?
Could clouds form with more haste?
Could what I look upon steal more than my heart?
the soul itself.
So that you may feel anything, but this.
My – kind stranger whose words have inspired
the weakest of grins.
I refuse your offer.
Leave me to my moods.
For as the sea they change
and I care not to drown another.
Let me sit and feel
all that this moment has to offer
for it to shall pass.
I am a contradiction to the original belief of man.
Refusing to reproduce is an option denied.
Although i would,
refuse that is.
dependent on recognition that is also denied.
let me write my story with the only arm they cringe to see,
Freedom openly oppressing the minorities of history.
The room paused
Inhaling before a sneeze
Undo the manipulation
The world has little use for another
Watch well after they remove your plank
For a sight to behold is on the horizon
Unclog ears waxed over with idleness
Wash any obstacle so it may shine
Know when enough has been reached
Losses will be totaled when the world has no comment
Tongues held out of respect and not practice.
Science will paint a peaceful picture of another collective that refused to coexist
Somebody always knows
It’s a matter of asking the right questions