What was free now carries a cost
and I have no money to pay,
that account dried up a long time ago,
the last time I thought I was young

Now grandfather clocks know me by name,
chiming in their opinion,
pointing fingers in every direction,
signaling each passing hour like it is a celebration

Waking me from a peaceful moment
while an insulting dawn
hidden behind dark raspberry clouds
sings, “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone”

I see sunflowers staring through shutters
wondering why as
tear drops collect on their seeded faces,
salting their very existence

So I write out the reason
in the dust on this end table
Finger marks cutting through the dirt
that has gathered, forgotten and reminded

No poetry in those words, that has left me too,
my pen now passed on to someone “younger”
playing hopscotch and drinking cherry cola
stealing her heart as I

Fall into the unmade bed
where pillows are my only friends
Covering up...trying to hide from
the truth that scares me so..........who I am

so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

I outfitted my worn-out clothes
Then in the far mirror, I see myself
I look behind the old me
Look pass the masked he wears,
Staring…  

After what seems like a few seconds,
I finally asked him;

“Have I neglected you?”

He didn’t answer…
A single tear fell in his left eye
And then I understood…

“I am sorry, I let you stay behind
masked for too long
muffled you for quite some time.
We all know society is cruel place to be.
We need to be strong and I needed to be stronger.
It was for our sake.
But then it was just me being a coward
                            - afraid to faced reality.

Now look at us, we’re both crying for the decisions
we’ve made long ago. It was not your fault,
I’m to blame with all of this crap.
I made you do it, I convinced you with my
Fears. And I am truly sorry for that.”

I break down into sobs. He simply hugs me, not saying anything.
Then he fades away.

I dried away the tears I shed
And found something,
     a feeling I never knew he give.
I found forgiveness.
I was able to forgive myself
From the things I did.
To stay past the past mistake,
To face the new kinda old me…

Then I realized;
It is important to forgive yourself
To be able to move forward.





written 09/27/2014
*© Pax

If you wish for someone
to like you for who you are,
try liking them for who they are.

Before all else, however,
you must accept yourself.

A sunlit narrow path cleaving  
       overgrown green hedge, both ways,
such exhilarating surprises, it too can offer,
        but would one expect, in the first place?

On my track, I stand arrested hold that flower,
                that made my heart jump, in my front,
felt being washed inside out
                 by a kind wave, transformed.

The flower, romancing the sun
         still is on it's branch,alive
didn't feel the temptation
        to pluck it like many times before.

Even the beauty's name is unknown to me,
     just another hibiscus,amidst her  cousins,
"I love the one next to her, the purple one"
    said a female voice, a wayfarer like me.

Standing by me, she adoringly looked at her favorite,
     I had no hesitation to accept it, like mine.
no ranking makes sense, each has
      own quicksilver tongue, if you 'd listen.

"Look at you! how pleased you look
    I love the folks, that adore flowers!"
she sounded like a skylark, hands of
  evening sun caressed her, we are kindred spirits.

"You have wide eyes like girls,
    eyes seeking beauty reflect it"
we held hands like childhood friends,
   long lost, looked at each other's eyes.

Isn't it the feeling one try to capture and define,
       when trying to say what poetry makes to happen?
it's there, a tangible feeling, if you know what it means,
   on our separate ways we went, gifting what to keep for ever.

Crying asylum,
swallows me whole.
White coats surrounds me,
taking control.

Forcible pills,
from lady insane.
Swallow them down,
or wrenching in pain.

Rooms smell of *****
and ***** and such.
Banging your head,
it drives you just nuts.

There's Sam in the corner
counting the bugs,
Alice walks around
giving false hugs.

Look, standing there,
Mike's tearing his face.
Sue's so surine,
screaming in space.

Lights go dim
bed time is bout.
Voices are silenced,
cuz the needles came out.

Strapped to my bed,
I am piercing the dark.
Orderly walks by,
sharp as a lark.

Lying all quiet,
alone and not proud.
A squeal from the speaker,
quite vocal and loud.

Scurry in the hallway,
drinking from his cup.
"Dr. Smith to the Psych Ward!!!"
"Hurry, the patient woke up!!"

in dark periods of my life
my thoughts lead me to
seeing my life as hopeless and pointless
I tried to hurry the end multiple times

today, my thoughts wander around my head
leading me to wonder about how
I am still alive
answer: grace

I hope I do not squander this
great gift I've been freely given
and remain grateful
by passing it on

it was suggested
that there be no nexus
between texas and your pal-
omino - tagging the alamo, **?

en el barrio, yo(u)-
and your gringa  homecoming
queen in tight-assed jeans
-running with ms-13?

-playing twister with your hipster
sisters misters smith & wesson
oiled up and and ready to go
- new mexico?

i found you in tres piedras
at a place called ortega's
eating huevos rancheros
- shooting jose cuervo?

-muthafucka mara salvatruchas
in a red camaro and two bruthas
on a burro with bow and arrows
-stole your palomino?

-they shoot horses
don't they?

riding the black el camino
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/30/14

The right attitude
sadly
is always
the most difficult attitude!