What happened?
An old familiar pattern.
I can see it now clearly;
the morning is quiet of chatter.

When shaken at the roots,
my mind goes swirling.
I lose my purpose
and all my learning.

Self-sabotage ensues,
no, never to hurt another,
but my partner still
has to watch me suffer.

Step to the side,
step back;
turn on the TV
and give the beer a crack.

Hours slip away
that can't be reclaimed.
In the fullness of this moment,
it all feels so insane.

That fly pounded the window pane
head on
at full speed;
tap, tap, tap, and again
towards the light.

Only thirty minutes later
when I passed again,
I saw her body in stillness
and realized I'd witnessed
a valiant last effort
for the light.

My family has always moved west;
running
to
from
over
our brethren.

Now that we've hit the Pacific,
where to next?

I drained the glass
and yet
did not feel full.

I could drain them all
or
be with the space
clawing to be filled.

Everything is already here,
at home,
waiting to be rediscovered.
All the pieces are buried and living awake;
you have already unearthed so many.
These are the foundation
of the castle
and it will bloom more intricate
as years pass
and your heart stays open.
You do not need to add anything,
to “improve” yourself,
but rather carve away the buildup,
the excess,
that society forces on a young person.
Like Michelangelo chipped away at the blocks
to uncover beautiful forms that were always there,
let this be your work.

An end to cobwebbed breaks in blood flow
and numbed out neutral in senseless times…
it feels good to be back.

So simple a choice
to step outside into this faint solstice eve
with the roar of cars quieting on the streets
and the big empty full of peach clouds.

So simple the freedom
to sit here gazing at the unmoving trees,
shaggy in their summer beards,
leery of the propellers above
breaking the delicious silence.

So simple the pain,
and deep the anger,
that starts in my belly and then rises
from the knowing that you can no longer
sit out somewhere,
pen in hand,
wondering at the beauty and sadness
weaved into each passing moment.

So simple a thing,
to accept,
and Dad
I'm trying.