When she walked it was as though
     the wind would move her
she would flow like summer breeze
one could barely behold
the perfection – oh the ease
with which she moved

Each step was like the ballet
like Swan Lake was set afoot
in the person of her womanhood
she, like no other could

Men fell in states of blunder
and ladies shapes of awe
for none could stand before her
not one resist her call

The Mona Lisa in the flesh
a living work of art
her subtlety betrayed her
a disguise she ill could wear

Her modesty set before her
a veil that through would shine
the loveliness of her countenance
the lady so sublime

I saw her once.

Pull yourself up
never surrender
no pain no gain
get some

collapse
give up
stop the pain
leave it

crush it
win at all costs
may the best man win
no quit

loosen your grip
enjoy the journey
lose with grace
stop

destroy the day
seize the day
capture the victory
nothing is too much to give

relax
today
might be the last
day

The day flows on
even in the most basic ways
when we have the best of our days
there is still the pain

It radiates and rises from the pores
when we are uninjured
but who among us is ever truly
unhurt?

At my best I rise and fall
in various states of anger
angst
bitterness

I cannot recall the last peaceful day
a day without pain
be it the pain of the mind
or the ache of the body
the first because of the latter

Yet it doesn’t seem to matter
what is done
or undone
it remains and I remain
two enemies trapped together
my Pain and I
like two bitter foes who’ve been at struggle
so long
they couldn’t understand a day alone
without the other

there’s a tale in my head
I don’t know how it came to reside there
a tale in my head
that looks to stay a while there

it’s far too ugly to say
I dare not write it down here
this tale in my head
I can never seem to get clear

if I tell you this tale
you might not hang around me
you’d probably run off
thinking I am crazy

and you’d be right
I’m sure of that much
for what sane man could have
a tale as such
and not share it?

Don’t tell me the world is beautiful
when death and despair
hold court
abroad

Don’t tell me how lucky we are
in our comfy homes
when death and despair
strangle the outraged among us

Tell me the truth
that we are immensely fortunate
that death and despair
are a surprise
a shock
to some
but daily drivers for others

the world dies
but we cry
when the cell service is weak

how weak
how pathetic
how could we be as blind as we are
so humanely ignorant
and still be alive?

beautiful breathing madness
one breath shy of nothing
this is who we really are

I was going to lead the people
to higher things
to their victory
but I was busy
and I grew older
let the younger man lead

I had a desire
to author the greatest poems
and move hearts
but time went too fast
and I let the young man write them

I intended to live
the fullest life
and make a difference
but was working the hours
day after day
and it all passed me by

you are the young man
do it for me - for us
it is too late for me
all has passed me by
I am still too busy
time still passes me by
I am still working the hours

not you, though
let my intentions motivate you
where my actions fell short
you are the young man

do it
Please do it
do it today; young man
for tomorrows soon you will be me too

There is a place where nobody asks questions
and nobody judges
where you can be yourself, without fear of the barking majority
or even the angry minority
no matter which you belong to out here

where you can say what you are thinking
instead of what you should
and there are no jurors or judges
just you and the really you

where the façade is lifted
the drapes are wide open
and the raw being of you is on display
but nobody cares – nobody is there to like it, or dislike it – or even notice it

what good would that be?
a place where you are you – and I am me – and there are no witnesses?
no one saying that’s wrong… or that’s right?
no indignation, no empathy, no willful disregard?

Yes, there is a place where nobody asks questions
and nobody judges
how horrible that place must be

When the sun rests
and the moon takes flight
and the dawn of day fades
to dark of night
you will find me

though I strain against the hold
and tell myself that I am not alone
and convince myself that I will be fine
I will hear your haunting tone
you always find me

even before I lay to rest
and fool only myself in blunder
and pretend my bravado will hold you at bay
you lurk, waiting to tear my pride asunder
you find me, waiting not to wait

once I shut an eye
and the day rewinds like an ugly play
and the mind’s critics line up to give review
with me, already knowing what they’ll say
you are there

with the greatest voice of all my mind
and the loudest, so fur sure
and you drown out any hope I'd have
that you’d enter here no more
because you never really leave

They don't care
nobody cares about your sorrow
they say I'm sorry to hear it, or
that's too bad
but as soon as the words stop sounding they celebrate
that it is not them

they care only so much

Some might care
the first time they hear of it
empathy is as real as stone
but doesn't last nearly as long
and turns to mist that blows away quickly

they care only so long

You know it
because you do the same
after hearing it a few times you wonder
why don't they just accept their lot?
the stone becomes mist
and blows away

you only care so much, for so long
when it is your sorrow
your pain
your injustice

It hurts.  It aches.  It isn't fair.  It shouldn't have happened
they don't care

You might as well tell a wall
or sing it to a passing sparrow
or tell your dog, who will surely care longer
than any of your fellow man

You know it
because you do the same
and the mist blows away and you move on
leaving sorrow and pain it's victim to have

Bukowski had it
the writing shoots from my soul
I don't care about babies or puppies
or rhyming anymore

Give me a fat cigar
and a deep whiskey
and I can write you a sonnet
of ******* and
write you a love poem
I do not mean

I smoke
I drink
I type what comes out
and I'm tired of hearing about tulips and butterflies

If you think you've got it all figured out
but you're working a job you hate
then the only thing you've figured out
is that you don't know what to do

You don't know that life is about living
that money is necessary, but awful
and that truly living is actually about living

Do you thing the trees give half a ****?
do you think that the flowing rivers care about internet speed?
do you think that your facebook friends would show up at your funeral

If only the world would shut down
if the digital, virtual world would stop
I'd grab a number 2 pencil and write
and jab a hole in the brain of modern society

and it would bleed money
it would bleed greed
it would bleed capitalism and success

and it would die
instead of my worn out soul

trying to swim in a sea of useless information
and overload
a sea of virtual *****

and then I would truly live

I dress up and smile
and treat you like I love you

You eat it up
and feel worth

but if I met you in the street
I would could ignore you

It's only because you meet me at my job
my 9-5
that I have to act like you are worth everything

When I come to your 9-5
you have to do the same

As though we are not men and women
we play this sacred game.

If I saw you in the street
I would ignore you

But when you come to my 9-5
I must adore you

Or risk getting my pay
so I can eat and live and be

This dance of men and women
this capitalistic ritual
that makes the world turn
and kills the inner being
of those who dance
for each other

It is a lie

I put on my costume
and I go to my big box
The Manager tells me about the numbers
and how I've fallen off

He shakes the paper over my head
I need the paper to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things I don't need
but want

You come to my big box
without your costume on
it's your day off - and you've come to spend the papers
that your Manager gave you
when you put on your costume
and danced for the others out of costume

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things you don't need
but want

and the Manager - he has his own costume
that brings in more paper than you
so he can go on the day he doesn't come to the big box
and visit, without his costume

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things he doesn't need
but wants

and we all put on our costumes
and pretend to love to dance and smile
to collect the papers
that we need

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things we don't need
but want

and then we die

and the man that owns the box
smiles, and counts the papers

I don't often dance this dance
of pretense and make believe
but when I do
I dance with you
to find blessed relief

I rarely put in all my effort
to find such great release
but when I do
I dance with you
until I feel relief

I don't often fall
to final rest in disbelief
but when I do
I dance with you
and find final reprieve

At last.

She danced the dance like nobody watched
until she fell
and lived the life like no death could come
until it did

He loved her like it could never be stopped
until she was
and died in mourning with suffering unending
until he did

Finally let go.

We all die alone.
what did you chase in life
what did you pursue
what did you expect
to take away from here?

Foolish.  All that we pursue
all that we seek
and that we find
is never long to be

Reality is of birth
and is of death
the in-between not relevant
existence obsolete

Are you sad
to learn this truth?
Does it leave you
feeling low

Get over it
my brother
for no truth is ever warm
and no lie is ever cold

It's all a lie

Did you see her?
She is there among the trees
which sprung up from her thoughts of when
times were easier than these.

Did you hear her call?
It sounded like the rain
that fell just as the winter set
and froze her heart again.

Did you see her smile?
I doubt this was the case.
Her countenance determined by
a loss she can’t erase.

I wanted to write without rhyming
but it became a question of timing.
How could I just flow
and not ever know
when to st

The man walks
The bird squawks
The children run to play

The clouds flow
To where clouds go
And the seconds tick away

The earth turns
And the man yearns
For an answer yet today

Of why he is here
With nobody near
To his heart that rots away

On the man walks
While the bird talks
It goes on endlessly this way.

Manic pace
Endless race
Running quickly every briskly
Never stopping
Springing
Hopping
Blurs of people
Buildings – steeple
Walking, talking never pausing
Coffee cup raised – no enjoyment
Half my life spent in employment
Process, success
Never egress
No time for nonsense – far too serious
They don’t hear us
Writing poems, books and sonnets?
Back to work
Stop being honest!
Project deadliness
News and headlines
Endless lists of pain and crime
Tired – worn out
Day is over
Lights out – dream state
Morning:  it starts all over

Of the winter days and darkest nights
and long forgotten sorrow.
Upon the freshly scattered thoughts of years passed and hope of new tomorrow.

Beneath the veil so carefully sewn
and lies of all we think we’ve ever known.
Amidst the ash of burned yearnings and long forgotten desires of home.

So deep among the rusted treasures
and things we’ve collected here.
Only to have them fall to pieces as year surrenders to year and year.

Somewhere in this mess of failures
beneath the retched, smoldering coals.
It lies forever dormant, but dangerously visible among the shallow shoals.

Shall we dig it up?
Remember fleetingly our soaring youth?
Remove the scars and stains and ever-worn disguise, restoring it anew?

Pretend the veil is torn in two?
Pretend we’ve opened our worn eyes?
Relive the pain and sorrow, open fully shattered wings as if to fly?

No.  fear not.  We are far too smart for that.
We’ll leave the fire ablaze, the mundane in place
and further distance abandoned desires to be, to live and see a difference.  
Preferring just the same things.

You don’t have to be alright.
It’s okay to feel like it’s bad.
You can be with a crowd and laughing out loud
even when you’re deeply sad.

It’s fine to be all alone.
Even when you’re with a friend.
They can’t see it, I know, but it’s just how it goes
it’s in you and just doesn’t end.

They say you should just get some help.
But you don’t even know what is wrong.
They speak all these words, but they pierce you like swords
in an infinite horrible song.

I guess it’s just how this goes.
People know but nobody knows.
That the battle inside is not what you hide,
but the roots from which it all grows.

What would you have me to do?
And to whom would I do it to?  
There’s an aching, a feeling, that something is missing
and I’m reeling to find that my spinning of mind
is just leading me backwards to you

Why do you keep away far?
More distant than any a star.
I am seeking to find you, no, to remind you
that I’m still here alone and looking for answers
but just keep on finding this bar

Where should I turn in the morning?
I’ve got places to be, none I’m yearning.
It’s a curse to know that you exist and are real
but not be able to touch or to feel
is slowly, and steadily turning
my limited faith into death

So this is your answer I guess.

In the heat of summers past
beneath what never was to be
I find the memories at last
of distant days of jubilee

The brush strokes clear for all to see
in paintings bright and bold
Of yester you and yester me
before the winter came so cold

When someday seemed forever off
on easy days we thought were hard
While heartfelt moments hung aloft
afloat in absent disregard

I brush your cheek again at last
and shed some tears for distant thought
Of what could have, but now is past
and what should have been but now is not

With no strength remaining here
I pretend I do not know
Someone that was to be so near
but instead was forced to go

To place beyond my reconcile
a distance measured not by mile
But broken hearts and memory
and hard to recall absent smile

I place the flowers
with fake understanding there upon
The ground where I remain for hours
and you have from now gone

With broken spirit I remain
For I shall never feel again
You presence nor your touch
though I call for it so much
Eternally.

Asunder.
Outwardly fine
Appearing sublime
I’ve been at joyous wander

Possessed.
Internally spent
A soul that is rent
I’ve been disguising

Aloft.
Flying high
No limit but the sky
I’ve been at frolic

Disturbed.
Inwardly broken
My spirit soaking
I’ve been unhappy

Who wins?
The outward banality
Or the inward reality
I’ve been at struggle

Who cares.
It won’t really matter
It’s all done but the chatter
Of the blinded crowd around me
Who simply cannot see
I am disturbed

Empty.
Holding nothing.
You see the vessel but not the contents,
assuming that within,
holds something.

There is no thing.

I am void.
Replete of content.
I write, I sing and dance,
but nothing here exists.

When I am gone you will pull the lid,
and see the contents.
If you bother.

I doubt you will.
I wouldn't...
... look at nothing with interest.

I dreamed a dream so perfect
of white and pureness found
Of swimming pools of happiness
and creativeness unbound

Where I was king forevermore
and you could not invade
With all my joy in full display
and all true feelings laid.

You entered not
for it was you who feared
Me! You feared me
and dare not ever neared.

So beautiful.  Magnificent.
Yet slumber comes to end
and soon I found myself returned
into your lap again.

Until I can once more escape
in sleep where truth is gone
to places you shall never know
nor ever gaze upon

I knew a man of wisdom, faith and knowledge.
A man of destiny.
I knew him well enough to know,
this man was far from free.

For wisdom comes from pain,
and faith from the unseen.
And knowledge from the hard pursuit,
of learning what has been.

I knew this man, and he knew me.
We frowned upon each other.
When death came calling suddenly,
we counted neither brother.

He passed from here to else beyond,
to where I have no knowledge.
Yet, if you ask the text,
they stuffed in him at college

He withered into blackness
and became a captive of the fact
that nothingness awaits us all
in darkened final act.

Such knowledge… oh wasted man…
from such knowledge I abstain.

When magnificent light shines upon
the darkened soul
When illuminated
we now know
A truth

When destiny meets reality
and showers vision upon its foe
and realization hits
of what we should not know
A painful truth

May you never see what I have seen
what could have
but has not been
Contrast’s razor sharp sword
of truth

If you live blind upon the now
and then gaze upon the missed
may God Himself relieve you
of the never ending agony
of the truth
I wish you no pure truth

You walked among the crowd
today
You rubbed, arm
to arm.

They did not see you there.

Among the hustle and the flow
the foot traffic to and fro
there you were
unseen.

Your pain flowing like a waterfall
among the crowd of so many eyes
no perception
none.

They did not see you there.

You waited, paused in hope
anticipation wasted
for not one saw
not one.

They did not see you dear.

And you ended all the pain
all the fear is gone
you left the crowd
to finally be alone.

Forever alone,
for they did not see you there.
invisible

I saw you just the other day,
but you were not even there.
A shell of what you use to be,
but I shouldn’t bother to care.

You left us long ago,
but flesh lingers on.
Slowly dying, bit by bit,
til all but bone is gone.

I saw you just the other day,
but you were gone already.
The shell of you stood tall to me,
but your soul was all but steady.

Fall.  It’s fine to fall.
When flesh and blood is not enough,
and will power cannot clear,
the rough.  So very rough.

Lay down.
I saw you just the other day.
You looked so alive.
Yet none can keep at bay.
Reality.
for reality, it comes.

I’m broken.
No holding on any more.
Grasps are for the weak that refuse to believe,
that letting go is sure.

I’m broken.
You are broken too.
You read these words for solace,
still finding nothing new.

I’m broken.
My soul shall not be found.
My broken body straightened,
and shoveled in the ground.

I’m broken.
Nothing here remains.
Those who swore they could not go on,
continue day to day.
No one else has fallen.

I’m broken.
and it’s as though I never was at all.
I never was at all.

Fair of skin.
Fair of thought.
Fair to others,
when she ought not.

Balanced mind.
Thoughtful care.
Wasted on masses,
who do not share.

Giver.
Ever giving all.
Devoured by the crowds,
who answer weakness’ call.

Fair of skin.
Fair of thought.
Fair to anyone who comes,
Yet offer naught.
Fair.

What do you want from me?
I’ve given all my flesh.
What more can you desire?
I’ve nothing left…

I quit.
Surrender to your power.
Celebrate upon my broken sole,
for I’ve nothing left this hour.

I can’t bear the indecency,
to look upon your face.
You thieving ******* who,
takes life and leaves no trace.

Laugh…
at my complete defeat.
Scoff…
as I as I repeat.

My failures,
you’ve taught me so well,
and completely surrender,
to forever fail.
At being real.

I will protect you, my child
no harm shall come
So long as I have life in me
I will protect you from harm

I will protect you, my child
no harm shall come
I have life in me
I will give all to keep you safe

I will protect you, my child
Though my body is tired
I am not done
Keeping you safe and sound

I will protect you, my child
If you’ll help me
My voice is strong
and my reason is still here

I will protect you, my child
Even though I am so tired
My will remains
and I will myself on

I will protect you, my child
From beyond here
I have given all
but have no fear
and weep not
for I watch on

Great hallelujah!
Rejoice – a victory has come today!
In the face of society
I managed to fit in
Not one could tell I faked my way
through normalcy again

Rejoice!  Victory!
Exhausted, still I made it through
All the vomited “good mornings”
faux displays of real concern
and buried, silent yearnings

Celebrate!  Home at last!
Another day of tense smiles
Another walk upon the coals
I’m spent, completely done
I’ve paid my daily tolls

Hiding!  Alone at last!
No anxiety of interaction
No pretending to care
No people faintly catching
The way I deeply stare
Into their souls
with jealous disdain

She sat with him
day by day
for there could be
no other way

For she for him
and he for her
Nothing cold be truer

Wether days of sun
or stormy night
She kept him warm
and free of fright

As she for him
and he for her
Nothing cold be truer

As frailty turned
its face on him
She held him up
His eyes now dim

Oh she for him
and he for her
Nothing cold be truer

And when time came
that he drift away
She saw him off
but had to stay

For she for him
and he has gone
No, Nothing cold be truer

Empty heart
Empty head
Never start
Never said

These together
These apart
Won’t just leave
Won’t depart

Endless wonder
Endless strife
Pointless persons
Pointless life

Words in piles
Words foreshadow
Silence weighs
Silence shadow

and none  evade this
Pain
     Pain
           Pain

Words keep flowing
coming quicker
everlasting
piling thicker
never pausing
breathless! faster!!

Writing rapids
flowing wildly
no control
no sitting idly
faster! flowing!!

See them flying
all a jumble
stacked and piling
all asunder
flowing! stacking!!

Once you stop
the rhythm keeps them
moving onward
verbal mayhem
stacking! piling!!

STOP!!!

…again…

A tire swing
with broken rope
Blackberries left on vine
A walking path dense with grass
forgotten bright sunshine

A rusted bike
empty street nearby
A park with no one there
Endless hours of breezes blow
without someone to care

Trees unclimbed -- rain puddles still
No splashing to be heard
For long ago the children grew
and other than my aching heart
Now nothing is disturbed.

Call the homebound son
Tell him not to come
home again
There is nothing here

The sparrows are all gone
They took their joy along
wisely leaving
There is nothing here

Emptiness secured a spot
and spoiled all for which we wrought
Cruelly laughing
Now there is nothing here

The memories are all but gone
They too have gone and moved along
Leaving hollow hearts
And echoed calls
Of  ”nothing… nothing here”

Bother me no more
guilty conscience set against me
wish my soul should I abhor.
But slowly running
having  just begun in
this locking out of joy.

Tether not my soul
tearful demon.
Who comes redeeming
the past that I so buried
with quiet scheming
and pain rendered briskly
leaving even tepid sorrow teeming.

Take but one more glance
of what will be no more.
Forever smitten by desires
and ever growing climbing spires
that scream ascending over
what crushed, shall not return
to bother me once more.

It can bother me no more.

What do you want from me?
What response do you desire?
A stanza for your pride?
Or a verse for you to ply?

I keep stumbling forward,
regardless of your call.
I proceed in forward motion,
even though I wish to fall.

My desire to live onward,
only matched by my disregard to die.
My continued, empty living,
Only matched by my fear to hurt, to lie.  

I could easily just end it,
like so many before.
Yet I choose to suffer,
because suffering is real.

Reality I crave so much,
I no longer even feel.

Someday I will,
and that day will be my last.
Don’t fear for me, dear hate,
for then I will be the past,
and not matter – which I already knew.
Not many understand

Why do you worry so?
For what of this shall come?
What results of all the sweat,
you bleed from pours undone.

Whether concerned for every breath,
or careless as the sea,
do you really think a single thought you have,
will have effect on me?

I apologize – how patronizing,
how thoughtless I have been.
You just make it so easy dear,
it’s actually quite obscene.

Sleep now, not unconscious,
but rather blind to hear,
that you could escape
my control of you by fear.
If only you walked away.

I knew this man of strength and girth
a giant of a man
Not one could surpass his strength
not one his size of hand
Still he died

I knew a lady of beauty pure
who from perfection dripped
That every man desired
and each woman to be wished
And still she passed

I knew a man of riches
who built a house of gold
With money so preposterous
he thought he’d not grow old
Who was buried all alone

Count your money
Count your blessings
Count the love within your life
It matters not what count you keep
but know that all who strive
will End

I found a pair of shoes while walking
across a bridge like I often do
Neatly placed below the rail
as if they expected you
but you shall not return

I found them on my stroll to town
which I take on Sunday am
Neatly placed there
as though you’d come again
but you shall see them no more

I dare not disturb them
These shoes which do not know
that I gazed upon your presence
In broken disregard in waterway below
for you shall see them no more

Instead I walked onward
with errands far too many
And attempted not think of how your shoes
reminded me of me
and my desire to join you there

and be seen no more

When darkness comes with grip so tight
and breath somewhere afar
time stands so still
a moment… to struggle… and yet
I breathe

When hollow feelings clench so firm
and each exhale longs wondering
If inhale will follow
and time stands as still as death itself
I breathe

When thoughts of failure and loss
replace the very thought of breathing
and every negative voice impales
My heart… that nearly stops
Still I breathe
so shallow… yet I breathe

and my sorrows await another night
to feed