In the Middle
That’s where I find myself
Half way there and half way gone
Not much further from where I started
At least that’s what I tell myself
Not much further to go
At least that’s how it seems
But so very far from my dreams
The middle
Just the word middle
Tastes dry and bland upon my tongue
In the middle of life
The middle of indecision
If I stopped mid-sentence
Would you understand my meaning
Can I understand life’s meaning
In the middle

I am not these crooked glasses,
that slightly hide my eyes.
I am not this bushy brow,
that furrows when I sigh.

I am not this auburn hair,
that will some day fade to gray.
I am not this mortal shell,
that was born to pass away.

I am not this sordid past,
that sometimes brings me tears.
I am not these hopes and dreams.
I am not these fears.

I am not the worldly wealth,
that gives direction to the day.
I am not the pastimes,
that help time pass away.

I am not this car.
I am not this home.
I am not this lack of friends.
I am not alone.

I am not a number.
I am not this name.
As time is surely passing,
I am surely not the same.

I was never yesterday.
I’ll never be tomorrow.
Today I cannot hold the past,
from the future I can’t borrow.

I am at my deepest core,
a never ending will.
I am what this mind would think,
if all its thoughts were still.

I am love unconditional.
Potential unconfined.
I am what my god intended,
when this soul was first designed.

It is only a reflection.
This man you think you see.
He appears bound by his existence,
but I, have always been free.

To what end
I’m so sick of wanting
I wish that I could close out the light
Block out the noise
Ignore the world

To what end
I complete another circle
I run the race at breakneck speed
Woe to those who
Refuse to run

To what end
I long to find reason
Not just a reason but reason itself
Six billion people make believe
Everything is real

To what end
Is the universal question
To what end
God laughs at the suggestion

Minutes pass into hours
Hours into days
Though my life pass into twilight
I will still dream of the people and places
Of my youth

I dream of endless summers by the river
The smell of fresh water in my hair
Laughing voices in the distance

A giant stone church
It’s steeple standing tall
Sentinel of our sleepy borough

Fresh cut grass
Dirt stains on my clothes
A pleasant ache in all my muscles
After a day of playing ball

A warning siren blows
We all rush off to meet it
Perilous adventure of my youth
Dousing wayward flame

Star filled summer nights
Chasing tiny hand held lights
Mad dashes through the town

The smell of funnel cakes
Brings smiles for miles around
At the annual street fair

Minutes pass into hours
Hours into days
As my life passes into twilight
I long for the freedom and the faces
Of my youth

Reality is a teasing uncle
Who sometimes gets my nose
I stomp like a child yelling, “give it back”
And he laughs at my naiveté

Innocence is a long lost friend
That I oft times remember fondly
If he could see what his absence wrought
He’d scoff at my depravity

Time my dishonest father
Promised me he’d always be fair
If you ask me he passes too quickly
In the moments that matter the most

Sleep my fickle mistress
Who more often than not eludes me
Not in my bed when I set out to find her
She’s ran off with my dreams to the coast

Life my mysterious woman
I can’t help myself but to chase her
Just when I think I finally found her favor
I find she has more surprises

Blurry eyes it’s one am
And sleep has yet to find me
Broken thoughts assault my mind
Can’t seem to put the day behind me

A wayward search against my will
Of missed chances I’m reminded
A fruitless search to find my flaws
By my assumptions am I blinded

The deafening sounds of a quiet night
Prevent the peace that I am seeking
All the while inside my head
Can’t keep reality from speaking

Tomorrow comes much too soon
When yesterday fails to cease its waking
The new days light on my bloodshot eyes
Another sleepless night is in the making

Although I speak your language
Our words are not the same
Although I play by your rules
I’m not part of your game

Although I share your history
Were not from the same place
Although I run behind you
I care not who wins your race

Although I live among you
This is not my home
Although I walk beside you
In truth I walk alone

Although your eyes are working
You’ve yet to truly see
The truth found in my wording
That might finally set you free

I love you

Like the early morning mists
Love to bask in the sunlight

Like a free flying eagle
Loves a warm updraft
On a long summer flight

I love you

Like the ocean loves the rivers
And the rivers love a stream
Like a lazy man loves his sleeping
And a sleeping man loves to dream

I love you

Like an energetic lion
Loves to run wide open
On the Serengeti plain

Like the trees in the rain forest
Love the gentle evening rain

I love you

Time is like the surface of an ocean,
that flows for eternity into the future
and flows for eternity into the past.

Anything that has ever happened,
anything that will ever happen,
anything that is happening right now
exists on the surface of this ocean forever.

We conscious beings are a wave
rolling from the past into the future.
Our passing changes the face of the ocean
but the ocean is eternal.

a rubix cube upon my desk
with half the colors matching
near a wayward garden gnome
what plots might he be hatching

contemplations fill my head
of life and all its meanings
a conservative at heart
despite my leftist leanings

someday I’ll find the leprechaun
hiding at the rainbow’s end
I’ll take that *******’s lucky charms
before he runs again

memories haunt my waking mind
not sure if they're even real
vertigo and déjà vu are all that I can feel

I think I’ll take another hit
that should finally stop the spinning
as my pet rock races Charlie Brown
the rubix cube is winning

On the brink of letting go,
the future slips at my fingertips.
It’s sad that I might never know,
what the future holds if I hold on.

At the point of no return,
the pages pass and bridges burn.
It’s weird that I might never go,
where I once had been, once I move on.

But it’s the start of a brand new day,
the sun shines bright in a brand new light.
I’ll learn to live, to laugh, and play,
in a brand new place and a brand new way.

It’s well past time that I move on,
the future calls beyond these walls.
It’s better to miss what’s already gone,
than to miss the chance of moving on.

Life is but a passing daydream,
that seldom does make sense.
I often wonder if I should wake,
what memories carry hence?

Yesterday a fuzzy recollection.
Tomorrow a cloudy ocean.
Today as clear as clear can be,
as preconceived as any notion.

Understanding is sometimes found,
when clarity meets truth,
but its hard to say if it was real,
once time and space have moved.

Life is lived by a routine,
that seldom ever varies.
My thoughts are often found,
where routine seldom tarries.

I awake some days to find,
the yoke of expectation
****** upon my shoulders
without want of explanation.

Hours of those days grind by,    
in meaningless frustration.
Watching my potential pass,
while occupied by occupation.

The yearning to be free,
that stirs within my soul.
Is gently lulled asleep again,
by pastimes I am sold.

Life is but a passing daydream,
that seldom does make sense.
I often wonder if I should wake,
what memories carry hence?