If reality is a bowl of
smashed cereal,
irreconcilable with
wholeness;

Then dreams are those
cartons of overnight
milk, mixed with reality
for a sour solace.

Staring into a bowl, filled with fruited o's
I contemplate the cosmos

The world, my place in it.

And come to the conclusion that it will move on

Prosper or not prosper based on determined and undetermined factors

And even this bowl of cereal is a factor to that means

Soon I grow tired of this expansive thought

And decide what the hell

Its only cereal....

Innocence is beauty, Innocence is rare;
Innocence is a wonderful thing to share.
Innocence is graceful, Innocence is elegant;
Innocence is the enchanting music the angels chant.

Innocence is what makes an adult from a child,
Innocence is where we came from before going wild.
Innocence is carefree and is not confined;
Innocence is sin-free, heart, body and mind.

Innocence is not ignorance nor naive,
Innocence is true and shouldn't be deceived.
Innocence is honesty, pure and white.
Innocence is unstained, the light of the night.

Innocence is worthless once it is gone,
Innocence is a gift given by One to one.
Innocence is cared for and cherished,
Innocence once given will fade away and perish.


Innocence is a treasure indescribable by literature,
Innocence is a word out of art and science, past or future.
Innocence is love, or so we thought before;
When innocence was with someone we don't even know anymore...

16 Years Ago-

I was sitting in class when that note arrived-
I looked up at my teacher with a tear in my eye-
He said “Richie, grab your stuff your leaving for the day”
I knew at that moment I would be out of words to say-
I walked to the parking lot and there stood my Dad-
Leaning on his white Volvo looking so sad-
We didn’t say much as we made our way over the hill-
We both knew what was coming-I didn’t think it was real-
We arrived at the hospital and everyone was there-
Your Daughter was pregnant-Your son was scared-
I looked around the room tears were singing like songs-
I reached for my Grandfather’s hand-
He told me “Be strong”-
My dad leaned in and by your bed he was at your side-
For one second longer he told you “open your eyes”-
To look around the room to see us for the last time-to know we love you-
To know its time-
You opened your eyes and I still see them to this day-
You past so fast here are something’s I wish I could say-
I would like to say thank you for all that you did-
Taking care of so much, your brother and your kids-
I know it wasn’t easy and I understand more now-
You went through so much-
I want you to know now-
That everyone is well-
Your son is being a man, and being a friend-
Your daughter is good-Your Grandsons are men-
So another year has come and another year gone-
I’m looking at the sky and because of you I’m smiling all day long-

We miss you-
Richard Itskovich

I enter my room.
I search for the blade.
This feeling of death will never fade.
Maybe it was the drugs, the pills, the ****.
Maybe it was the feeling i wouldnt succeed.
Maybe it was my parents fighting at night.
Blaming me for their on going fights.
Maybe it's me, yes that's it!
Now tonight this will be it.
I will slip away and no one will care.
Not even friends who said they'd be there.
Still too young, not ready to go.
So much to live for.
I guess I'll never know..

I've never been in love, but it must be like waking up from a lovely dream.
It's probably something like a road trip without a destination.
I hope it's that feeling in your stomach as the roller coaster is dropping, electricity coursing through your veins.
Maybe it's like a camera, freezing moments that feel like forever.
I bet its something like the glittering embers in the sky, just after a firework burst into a dozen lights.
I'm sure love is like a constellation, where you can connect the dots to create a story.
Love must be like rain drops on a window, accumulating slowly, then racing to the brim of the frame.
I think love is like an eclipse. The sun and the moon circling the globe, in search of each other. And when they finally meet, the world stops to watch.
For me, I know love is a dusty typewriter, waiting for its story to be written.

He's right, you know.

Somewhere,
A sweet drop falls hesitantly
Into the dark, dark well that runs
Underneath us all.

You can barely hear it,
But I feel the echo all through my bones.

Forever is such a long time to fall.

Someday,
Somewhere,
We will all collide again.

In stardust,
In soil,
In the sweeping memories we will force ourselves
To forget
Because their sting will only ever be as real as we once were to each other.

Oh, we will feel each other again,

But only through a gasping for air and the horror of that
Dark,
Dark,
Well
Resurfacing from our eyes.