For Jack**

Lost in a tide of a million emotions,
pulled down by the weight of my unsteady heart
left to drown in an ocean of my own creation
as saltwater depths from mine eyes did depart.

I looked to the heavens for signs of my passing
then swallowed my pride with my last gasp of air
hoping for silence and peace everlasting,
no more would I cherish, no more would I care.

Then through the darkness a soft voice did beckon,
sweet cleansing comfort in it's knowing tone
a hand it was offered to aid my protection
and to help hold together my world weary bones.

As the ocean receded my heart broke the surface
I reclaimed my soul then rejected the tide
Your heart was a beacon of light in the darkness.
Sweet unending friend, in my heart you reside

~

Finding peace
in the fourth card
stacked in a deck of despair

Changing life
can’t be so hard
finding the choice waiting there

Ante up
placing your bet
stick to the dreams you have seen

Cards face up
see what you get
there with your king and your queen

Take the ***
into your hand
leave all your troubles behind

Walk the walk
at your command
happiness now you can find

i don’t know how someone as small as me
with bones that break at the sight of heat lightning
and heart strings that thread apart at the sound of his voice
could make anyone feel like the sun shines brighter
through kaleidoscope eyes—
you’re okay if it brings out the freckles on your face,
and you feel good, you feel alive
you say i showed you how to love in a new way,
that i taught you to be so much more okay with your tummy,
“it’s been very freeing and life is a lot better, thank you,”
but i feel like i can’t say you’re welcome
because i am a messy cliché of imperfect scraps and hypocrisy
loosely sewn together with
“you are strong you are strong you are strong,”
but i feel so weak i feel so weak i feel so weak
and i am not steady hands, they shake like
wet dogs after kiddy pool baths,
i am flower seeds that forgot how to bloom,
trapped below the surface of a garden that feels like quicksand
and i’m sorry but you don’t see all the mistakes i make,
all the words i’ve preached that look back at me
and laugh when they see
what i feel, what i think, who i am behind closed doors,
i’m sorry.
you keep hanging medals around my neck, and
they’re so heavy, and i don’t know
what to say besides i love you
when you speak words of adoration,
but please do not praise me, i am not good.

This was a fishing village
when people were speaking
the king's English, dead
like the fishing industry
Now the tourists have accents

Truth be told
this was a fishing village
long before that
But we don't speak about
what those folks spoke
Something Algonquian
or another dead language

When the tide is out
I walk the shore and look for remnants
Pottery and stone tools, and such
I find a lot of plastic
and bottles, plenty of those
We've been a drinking people
for a long **** time

Once, I found a child's shoe,
sodden and filled with sand
It had a blue lace,
still tied, and a smiley face
as the tide was going out
Kind of sad, really.

r  ~ 8/28/14