My silence radiates like the sun
Burning hot into my seat
But I look so cool, calm
Like the Dead Sea

My body is stained from you like red wine on my white shirt
I'd never thought you'd bring this kind of hurt
It the dark hours when the moon follows me to the shore line
I drop and unwind like a sweater undone by that one thread that holds it all together

You.

Ghosts often haunt us--
Ghosts of the past--
Bearing down upon us
Like a winter blast,

Or steadily prodding us
As a constant threat
To see if our response is
Insouciance or regret.

Lurking around a corner,
They're there lying in wait
To test our ability
To circumnavigate.

Appearing out of nowhere
When we least expect them,
They dare us to try
To avoid or reject them.

Though we thought that they
Were buried long ago,
Their recurring visits
Cause more grief and woe.

Sometimes causing panic,
Sometimes causing dread,
They reappear as though
They've come back from the dead.

They take away our breath
Or chill us to the bone
Whether we're in public
Or at home alone.

Sometimes in a nightmare
Or in a crazy dream
We recognize their presence
With a stifled scream.

Running makes no difference.
They're always close behind us,
Or even up ahead;
Somehow they will find us.

Once we stop running
And stand in one place
And grab each phantom
And stare it in the face,

Then and only then
The ghosts disappear,
And we regain our power
And conquer our deep fear.

- by Bob B (12-19-16)

Play music and you’re an instrument,
Make dinner and you’re a chef,
Paint a canvas and you’re an artist,
Open a door and you’re a key,
Set fire to a Polaroid, and you’re a photographer.
Burn candles and you’re a priest,
Pull pages from a book and you’re a writer,
Dodge traffic and you’re a warden,
Break a heart and you’re a lover,
Lie and you’re a promise,
Hide and you’re invisible,  
Think and you’re emotional,
Cry and you’re a nihilist,
Learn and you’re a sponge,
Sense and you’re a silhouette,
Flicker in the background.
Scream and you’re a vibration,
Sweat and you’re still,
Run and you’re somewhere else,
Look back and you’re a stone,
Stand on the roof and you’re a bird,
Fly and you’re wings will burn,
Look down the hole and you’re human,
See white lights, and green and yellow,
Stop looking and you’re dead.

Stuck with a midnight crises,
Split to think about two people,
Split to hearing two voices in my head.
All while busy crying the time away.
Melancholic piano plays,
As the rainy night passes by;
My favorite night.
They'd not believe me when I'd tell them,
No one would believe tears from a boy's eye would be real.
And this cold ain't the best thing to feel with it.
So I'd have no choice but to sleep unfinished.
I'll just see them in my dreams,
With a song on repeat.
I might have a blanket,
But nothing would spare me from the cold truth;
That you'll never feel the same for me.





































Both of you.

I witnessed the fiery sky of Virginia traveling south
Twas the template of Valhalla without doubt
I picked an eastern star over the mountains
of Tennessee to follow home
Something for a penniless , young loser to
call his own
Back to Georgia to say goodbye
To ensure a widow that all was fine
He was a book already read
Now he was dead

The rhythmic , frigid breath of March
Where pathetic sun worshippers have no God
We are the center of the universe , traveling ships
Purveyors of elusive miracles that lie just beyond our fingertips
Our forefathers physicality becomes the dust collecting on windshields
The steaming earth from a fresh turned field
A beam of starlight where celestial life melds