Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

If my father died mad, will I?
I wonder, sometimes.

Street lamps flicker tonight,
and so stumbles your ghost,
fumbling down the road,
going as far south as south goes.  

In my dream we walk
the white dunes of Yemen,
heading to the shelter of your heart,
where windows face pathways
leading us to waterfalls.  

It’s that time of year—
the sun’s shifting on the stones,
casting bigger shadows.

We’re lighting the torches earlier in the temples,
wondering what’ll happen if they fall.
Wondering if we’ll crumble,
if we’ll be able to keep the hearth warm.  

The dimensions we live in,
the dimensions we’re given—
our shadows cast ripples in time;
our other selves frozen in ice.  
When will they thaw out?  
And what to what?  

Seeking those who’ve solved the mystery,
bringing meaning to being;
while we share this time and space—
for a little while at least.

I've got that itch
that feeling
that maybe I've outgrown
my little section of map

It's time to blur the state lines
It's time to expand the boundaries
United States of whatever the hell I want.

There isn't much to it, really...

Just me and a gas pedal and a general direction

a little classic rock to keep me company

Simplicity.

Driving is so much more enjoyable
when you have nowhere else to be

Chasing the sun
Until the moon catches up

**** roads.


Bring me that horizon

You slowly walk down the avenue of normality
Ignoring the side streets and oddly placed alleys

Change, you feel, is strange and unnerving
You stay straight and narrow, no veering or swerving

You look at us weirdos and our strange machinations
you speed up your pace with much trepidation

You're so busy keeping to the road that's more traveled
that you are completely unaware that it's turning to gravel

You're walking alone, and the road has all but decayed
the streets that you passed up, now bustling highways

Your fear of the odd and peculiar, the offbeat uncommon
has led you to become alone, forlorn, and unwanted

Everyone's different
Everyone's weird

Everyone has secrets that no one will hear

You wanted to be normal, and normal you are
now you're a minority, among the bizarre