Why Life Is Worth Living
March 29, 2012


easter egg hunting                          looking up and seeing the sky
                              opening your eyes underwater                       burning candles
    drinking water when you’re thirsty               watching the snow fall
                           seeing fireworks explode                                  laying in bed
dipping your toes into a river                   intertwining your fingers with another’s
       feeling the sun on your skin                        painting what you imagine
singing along to songs         having bonfires                  sitting by a fireplace
                   riding horses in the fall                 chocolate milk
        watching lightning split the sky                 the way you feel after workouts
fishing on a calm day                 knowing you are worth something
                                  swimming in the summer                  watching the sun rise
backrubs            that ‘new baby smell’                    smiling
      proving to others that you can do anything                     having family dinners
falling hopelessly in love                        skipping rocks
                    helping others who need you         laying with the one you love
writing because you want to                     sipping hot cocoa in the winter
                               feeling strong                      capturing time through photographs
holding a new baby                breathing after it rains                trampolines
          playing sports          expressing yourself           building things
listening to the ‘peepers’ chirp                                              learning every day
creating new life                   making dinner for fun           planting a garden
                 seeing old friends       staying up late reading        feeling accomplished
suddenly understanding a math problem            experimenting
              falling asleep without any time between when you climb in and sleeping
          seeing your family                   picking daisies
getting sand between your toes                    devoting yourself to something you <3
                                   saving lives                               hearing the melody of a piano            
   sharpening a pencil because you’ve worn it down creating something beautiful
              realizing life is better than in the movies                          running
making shapes with sparklers                               curling up in a blanket
                          movie nights                   cutting the grass          observing the stars
thanksgiving dinners                ice cream on a hot summer day            popsicles

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

Let the poetry of others repose in majestic halls:
My poems are filler for paper shredders,
For packing in shipping boxes,
And backing for flypaper sticky strips;
To wipe the muddy soles of shoes
That have seen too much of springtime
In the garden.

Others poetry fills the airwaves, and sits between the covers of books;
My poetry is for grocery lists,
And sudden messages you need to scribble while on the telephone,
And maps to undiscovered geneological treasures
That are only a township away-
To trace the faces of cool tombstones
Under a mid-day sun.

You won't find my poetry near any other kind of list
That doesn't say get bleach, dog food, and toilet paper.
Still, my poetry is from a well lettered life-
I have written all my heartbeats, and most of my sighs
Into sibylline hieroglyphics, from midnight initiations
In the secret brotherhood, of my own soul:
And I will die a freeman, because nobody
Will ever feel the need to own any of these words.

I remember a time when time was just a number,
where the only times where school and dinner.
When I didn't have to grow up to be what I want,
but I could act it out in a secret lair or a parking lot.
As you become old, they try to rid you of you imagination,
well I say nay as I fly my submarine in a train station.
You know what take my wallet, live my life,
because I am a ninja hiding in the night.
Go ahead, try and catch me if you can,
Big old stupid corporate man.
You might be sophisticated and civilized,
so what, I am a 50 foot spider that can freakin' fly!