Tomorrow came knocking on my door
I wasn’t ready to handle more
Certain comfort in snuggling Yesterday
The memories take us far away

Tomorrow waited and knocked again
“I’m here to stay,” he shouted in
Today helped me hide Yesterday
Just past the kitchen, in the bay

Tomorrow burst in, unwanted
Today claimed his end exalted
I shared a laugh and bite of food
Tomorrow helped change the mood

I wanted Tomorrow to met my Yesterday
We walked past the kitchen, to the bay
I found there my old Today
He became my Yesterday

Yesterday had let himself out the back
He knew I needed Tomorrow intact
Today took his place in silence
Tomorrow become Today to keep balance

Don’t let the past be your top concern
Keep it long enough to learn
Tomorrow will soon be Today
Do not live in Yesterdays

Pain and sorrow often hold either side of the hands of death. But sometimes death can be a beautiful thing; it liberates one from the pain and sorrow that often hold the hands of life.
The sound of oxygen waves, crashing through the thin plastic cannula, it's high tide on the beaches of her lungs. Her lungs are slowly being swallowed by the volume of the sea, her eyes heavy from the weight of the world.
I hold her in my arms and whisper softly, "what are you thinking about?"
She said the Ocean.
Because that's her favorite place to be.
-I prayed to God this morning. I asked him to let her be one with the Ocean. Let her soul swim free across the vastness of the sea.
I suggested that He send the most breathtaking sailboat he has ever created
So she wont lose her breath when she first sets sail across the waves of Heaven
Realizing they stretch out for infinity
Realizing
It's all for her to conquer.

you stuffed the sharpest fragments of your past
deep into the pockets of that green coat
so that they couldn’t pierce you anymore

sometimes in conversation, your hand shifts towards a pocket
I give the gesture attention, so you go ahead and reach in

the memory you pull out, you hold before you like a line-up
I tell you I’m not taking mental-picture mugshots

all I want is to hold the parts of your past that hurt the most
and grace them with my tears

for when I look at you, I see a girl with the courage
to pick the broken fragments of her shattered self off the floor
and piece them back together

I see a girl who dares to ask the deepest questions of life
because she has already been broken
and is not afraid of the answer

when I see you
I feel like a weary winter traveler
who has glimpsed the light of a fire
and knows the closer he gets
the warmer he will be

Twisting, spinning, agonizing pain!
Coming in crashing, smashing waves!
Overlapping, faster, faster, faster!
And then slowing to a stand still
Recovering from the drilling
My body is slowly chilling
But then it comes back!
I'm again under attack!
This torture, I do not lack.

Rippling field of ripe golden rice,
splash of yellow, wherever my
                                     eyes travel,
evening sun unfurls
a  glowing magic carpet,
a swishing whirlwind,
tries its hands in making crop circles,
by twisting and twirling the rice plants,
how this  would have made you
run for your paint and brush,
what a huge loss for you, Van Gogh!

It takes me back
as I sift thru years

of collected basement junk
a rainbow milk hurricane
thru time
I jump into the vortex
emitted from my dust-bound
N64

an old tv I used for video games
sits in a corner by
boxes of board games
& VHS tapes my dad bought me

memories like shoelaces
now untied, I trip on them
an evanescent trip.
The things in the vortex are
warped by time
blended from real things
into memory cards

memories like bodies
decaying
in the basement

memories like apparitions
diaphanous & ethereal
but always somewhere in that dark

it's a trip that I'm used to
it takes me
*back