everything is always out of focus, and the lens won't adjust.

i can't ever see lightning or romance. hell, i can't even see the top of the world when i'm comfortably on its shoulders and all i want to do is help bear some of the weight.

my bones have never known a shortage of blankets,
just anguish over idly watching the thermostat push the tea kettle to a breaking point where all it can do is scream.

glasses can't fix this.

I am prey to the unyielding Sun
here in this open field
void of shade
holding precious pieces
untouched for 140 years
200 acres of Virginia farmland beneath my feet
where bullets flew
where strong men screamed
and the soil looked as if it had rained blood
death can come quickly or painfully slow

A soldier rips the Eagle breastplate from his chest
and throws it to the ground where I am standing
and here in the sweltering heat
of a calm June afternoon
I pull it from its resting place
no longer shining
140 years removed
from the failing heart
beneath it

When I am a thousand miles away
and you are seemingly a million more
here where I trade the sun for rain
dwell in the intermittent patches of grey
I distract myself in gardens green
study madala art of spider weaves
decaying, diaphanous maple leaves
the cool of wet mud wriggling around my toes
and yesterday the black birds watching me
disturbingly, the cawing crows
and I could hardly think or speak
as I dialed you long distance on the phone.

I dreamed of my father
crossing the fields
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sadness
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
and I waded the creek
beneath a ridge
where my mother is shearing
dead roses and the smell
of those flowers floating
to the foot of the mountains
reminds me of her hair
and my father's laughter
disappearing across the hill.

Just...Stop

Stop wishing away the lines on your face.
Every line means you smiled!
Stop wishing away your stretch marks.
For every one of them there is a grateful child.
Stop wishing away those extra pounds.
It means you have food to eat.
Stop wishing away your corns and bunions.
It means you have shoes to put upon your feet.
Stop wishing away your grey hair!
It means you've had many years to enjoy life.
Stop wishing away imperfections,
perceived by others lies.
There is someone out there
who sees you
as perfect in their eyes!
Badges of Courage!
Not shame.
Please...
Stop wishing them away.

I have a bug under my skin
crawling within the depths of my
soul
it fritters on and about
like a teapot
short and stout
ready to release the contents of its
spout
screaming and shouting
LET ME OUT!

it loves to write
frightening details
on starry nights