When hope and home sound the same,
then you're probably nowhere near it.
I've commandeered someone's private plane,
but I have no idea where to steer it.

I won't delete this one
I promise
To do my best
My love's sleeping in the other room
No baseless arguments
This King size bed hurts her back
And my snoring doesn't help
She can't tolerate the music I have to
Listen to in order to fall asleep.
It keeps my mind from wandering off
Gives the Ambien a chance to hit the pineal bullseye
I miss her, though.
There is much to be said for the pleasures of simply being with a loved one
Listening to the rhythm of her breathing
Watch her body rise and fall
Scoot over an hug on her, hold her in your arms
Those times we're losing
And I'm not sure how much we're getting back
It seems a lot to sacrifice even if it is for health benefits
For in those times I'm reminded
How dear you are and how much
I love you

Instead I command this room alone
I wriggle my way into pajamas of darkness
I try not to think about the future
It offers no guarantees that it will even come
Frightens me to not know
And I think of friends I'm not talking to
I assess the reasons for my non-communication
Some, I feel, are legitimate and real
But I wonder if they're even aware
Of what they are
Of why I can't see them
I'm convinced they could care less
But what do I know?

In the meantime
I have to be satisfied with small chunks of time
Days, hours, minutes, even seconds
These are increments I have faith
I can navigate
I can do it on my own in the blanket of darkness
As long as I can tell she still loves me in there
Real love that honors vows
Love that is defined by those vows
So what if her back hurts and the other bed makes it better
There's your reason
As long as she knows
I'm a creature of short time
That I have reasons for avoiding people
And that they are usually pretty good ones if you stop to think about it

I really like this buzz
give me just one more puff
when I can't get enough
give me some of that other stuff

"I am a poet"
That is what our ego tells us
What we tell others
What others desire for self
What we desire to hear
So they tell you that you are
Quid quo pro
We stroke one another
Manus manum lavat
When I die I hope "they'll" say
"A poet has left us"
But then as now
I will not know it

By: Cedric McClester

After I’ve picked up the pieces
Of my broken heart
Long after the sadness ceases
Tell me where do I start
I have no idea because it’s not clear
Where do I go from here

I guess if I had my druthers
I’d forget you
And entertain others
But after having got laid
Their memories would fade
‘Cos it would only be a charade

Where do I go from here
To make the past that we shared disappear
And what can I do to erase
The memory of your lovely face
See I wish I knew what I could do
To accept the fact that we’re through

I wish I was more like you
And I could put it all behind
But that’s something I can’t do
Play those kind of tricks with my mind
Though I’m doin’ my best I must confess
If I didn’t say so I’d be lying

Where do I go from here
To make the past that we shared disappear
And what can I do to erase
The memory of your lovely face
See I wish I knew what I could do
To accept the fact that we’re through

After I’ve picked up the pieces
Of my broken heart
Long after the sadness ceases
Tell me where do I start
I have no idea because it’s not clear
Where do I go from here

Where do I go from here
To make the past that we shared disappear
And what can I do to erase
The memory of your lovely face
See I wish I knew what I could do
To accept the fact that we’re through






(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.