Rainy days have followed
Since you passed in the night
We pray for your soul continually
As you enter into His light

the darkness lives
the darkness thrives
the darkness takes you on a drive
and leaves you stranded in the bad places


-f.r.

When I sleep
a wind blows
over strange lands
I don't know
and I feel like a lamp
a stranger is holding up
looking for a way
through a dark field
I will walk through.

Had taken a left

But would have lead to my death

Jumped to the right

But no truth in sight

Have been roaming ever since

On this swirling staircase

Unseen bends ahead

Untold memories yet to be remembered

I Am not lost

But yet i am somewhat afraid

Of if the right step**

would be made.

10:46 pm Tuesday, 5th, July, 2016.

I wish people were like books with words written all over them about the person they are, so we could know their intentions before you learn the hard way.

Magnifying

I focus in.

I see all details

Like caught on film.

I rewind,
I assume.
I draw wrong conclusions about the varied clues.

Retreating

I externalize.

I see no details

Of the who and why.

I project,
I know.
I make good decisions when walking on objective rope.*

10:56pm , Tuesday, 5th , July, 2016

As I sat and pondered on how to write my next poem,
I witnessed an insect trying to fit into a space it was too big for.
I watched as the insect twisted and turned with determination to try and make the impossible possible, and it made me wonder:
How many opportunities have I missed because I mistook cannots for would nots?
I wallowed in the fear of what could happen, my pessimistic tendencies taking over,
(because I have loved and lost and I wish I had never loved at all)
so maybe the situation I am in is my fault.
Maybe it is genuinely not you, but it's me because you are the small space and unlike the insect I did not twist and turn
even though you are worth it.

I will auto correct myself, if you promise to do the same.

We got out of the car and went to a field that I oddly thought might have made a good place to play baseball or football or soccer even though I never play sports anymore or never really did even as a kid.

I sat on my haunches and...
wondered what was I going to say to her in that long thick silence.

It was night and I heard no cries or calls of animals or machines.

I hoped that Gina wondered the same thing.

I remembered as a boy getting so bored I’d dig a hole that looked something like this         and then I would fill it up again so it looked somethinglikethis just for something to do.

I wondered if Gina had ever dug a hole in her life.

Admittedly, it was a strange thing to wonder.