I've come to realize baggage,
Is really a woven empty bag.
Yarn of broken hopes and expectations.
Woven together of things, we thought we once had.

Mostly made up of people,
Really just of the memories.
That over time we have formed.

Memories needled together.
In some knit stitch,
Knitting kind of storm.

The key to baggage is in part knowing,
A few things, right from the top.

It's only an empty bag you've been making.
That you have to unravel, to get the knitting, to stop.

Unravel all of those people.
From the strings of moments,
They've been trapped in.

Like a web of a spider, life *******.
Removing the web, is where you begin.

Hopefully you'll find yourself in the remainder.
Of the now useless, pieces of thread.
And once you've untangled all that madness.
You'll find, it's made, a pillow for your head.

It's funny, how I can envision fantasy.
Daydream, or write, or make it said.
But visions of reality are just lacking.
As though what my eyes see,
Just won't go in my head.

It feels like my fates thread when created.
Was simply, thrown up and strung along.
With no thought, or consideration,
If when born weight, it could even stay strong.

And as I try, to follow said string.
Hoping I can use, just a little, to mend.
All that I've not seen as I've been packing.
Those little fantasies,
That are stuck in my head.

So I sit with virtual paper,
Pulled taught by the corners of my soul.
Writing my thoughts of sweet fiction.
To someone, I'll likely, never know.

A new year begins and reflection.
Grabs ahold of me.
Yeah I guess I'll hop on this trend.

It's hard not to think of my perception.
Of my life, out across life's ocean

I think of simply this last year.
But my thoughts, span a decade.

Of all of my trials and tribulations.
Of all of the choices, that I have made.

Of all the lessons presented.
Of the ones, I just might have learned.

Of all of my dreams and my wishes.
For all the things, that I have yearned.

I find, myself left wanting.
Wanting at this point, I know not what for.

Because, as these years have passed by.
I let extinguish, all the passion, that once burned.

So I think I find myself wanting.
In a reflection I couldn't help but start.

An ember found in the ashes.
The ashes, that once was my heart.

I think, it's time for a parting.
To let live and simply let die.
All, that's made me who I am.
All, that's scarred my inside.

All that's defined how I see the world.
To all, that left me alone.
I think, it's time for a parting.
Let lessons, redefine the word "home".

Though I use the word all the time...
I've found it's the most repulsive, letter past A.
Even, as I sit here writing.
I wish I had, a different way to say.

That I, should you ever find one.
Is actually beautiful, when you pair it with me...
Yet another word, I have avoided.  
Because me, is often the only thing, many seem to see.

But if you spent your life trying.
Trying to make, something out of your me...
While crying alone feeling parched and dieing.
As though a cast away, drifting alone out through the sea.

You just might find, your other I sighing.
Alone and oarless, but also fighting.
Fighting for just one chance to see.
Their savior, but clearly not me.

Until, your lonesome rafts merge.
Like two great currents, longing to be...
Reunited, after their births,
From distant frozen memories, that no one should have ever seen.

You might find, you both share a warmth.
Crafted by how, you've both drifted from so far.
A warmth that hides you amongst each other,
Making hit hard to see, where once, you did start.

But suddenly, as now kind fate would have it.
You no longer care where you once started, or where you now end.
As you two, have finally come together.
It's like heaven said, your lives can finally begin.

I got on the ride...
It looked like so much fun.
I remember that day,
As my eyes glittered of joy in the sun.

I had no idea.
How sick it would make me.
But sick in my heart,
And as expected dizzy.

Round and round,
I would go.
But when chance to get off,
The ride again glowed.

And hope would leap,
And strangle my throat.
Robbing the oxygen from my thoughts,
Until back on I would go.

Having forgotten just how,
The pain I had felt,
Just hope for a ride,
That would cause all the sorrow to melt.

But again I would spin,
Laugh for a moment at first.
And on it would go,
Bringing back all of the hurt.

And I find myself back,
Dangling over the edge,
Face skimming the ground...

Round and round,
On my heartbroken merry-go-round...

There's a twinkle!
Run!  I have to have it!

Something glows warm,
Oh my God, I want this one!

Listen! It sings so sweetly...
If I could catch it, I'd surely feel done.

It's my piece!
To the puzzle of me...

If I held it,
I'd feel like life has begun.

I'm incomplete,
So long as it's absent.

It's while I never feel,
Like, I could ever be...

Something so special,
To, someone.

Here I still float,
In a void of space.
Cold and still watching,
From the same distant place.

I drift around aimless,
But guided by the pulls,
Of a wanting to be held,
In the gravity of loves flow.

I see them look up,
Sometimes upon me.
Often looking past,
It's the stars that they see.

Yet little do these wonders,
Of life down below,
Realize I see similar,
Sorts of twinkles and glows.

Occasionally I spot one,
A love I yearn for.
Such a gentle sweet kindness,
From them, freely pours.

Always steadfast,
Locked down in place.
Of a different cosmic object,
And not to mingle in my fate.

I know I can't crash,
Myself into their world.

So silently I'll drift...

In my slow solitary twirl...

Life needs to begin again,

I'm far too tired of waiting.

Watching all, the Sparkles from afar,

Leaves me with a growing hating...



And it's into this growth,

I feel myself draining.

Beauty is something,
I didn't seem get.
It took age and children,
Wonder and regret.

But for those who also struggle,
In this word to define,

What beauty really is,
Here's how it works...  
For Beauty Over Time

At youth the physical,
Seems to excel.
Sometimes wit or humor,
Makes a heart begin to swell.

Often beauty,
Is very singular.
How he's so handsome,
How she's spectacular.

It.
Is the word,
That often comes to mind.
Like a lonely single thing,
Can make anything sublime.

And that's not to say,
Beauty can't be simple,
Like how she pushes back a loose hair,
Like my smile shows my dimple.

But over time...

Some things will lose their luster...

Let that not worry you...
For beauty has a great stamina it can muster.

Through memories,
Of laughter,
Of loving,
Of care.

Through weeping,
Of pains,
Of the losses,
We bare.

For beauty is actually,
The weights on a scale.
Telling the stories,
Of our beautiful tale.




"Her hair is so gorgeous!"
Beauty takes a weight...

"*** what a *****..."
Ugly...  
Finds a mate.




In this simple example,
I try to provide,
Note that the scale,
Is leaning on both sides.

Beauty is very,
In the eye of the beholder.
But all those who behold,
Watch as we warm or grow colder.

What I'm trying to tell you,
In far too many words,
Is don't worry about one thing,
That might make your beauty burn.

There are so many,
Ways we can shine.
We can sparkle or glow dim,
Cast sunshine or moonlight.



But I urge you a caution.


Beauty is truly, weights on a scale.


One day, divine in body,
But on another...
Hells compassion gone pale.

All scales are sensitive.
Forever they sway.
It's you who it's up to.
As to where, you add weight.

Like a mime I reach,
And feel invisible box,
That surrounds,
My days like a haze.

Probing and seeking,
Along every crease and line.
Even standing still,
I'm stuck in a maze.

I can't find my way out,
Though I felt every path,
Every single,
90 degree turn.

I know all that's inside here,
I breath it's understating,
Which is why,
It's outside, that I yern.

But just as the mime,
I know my box isn't real.
Just some rules,
I simply can't bend.

So a rat I've become,
While standing still,
Maze locked,
And no sight of the end.

They say that the inner,
Child should never die.
Its a source,
Of wonder and joy.

They... also say,
To grow up and be a man.
Youth's not forever,
So say goodbye to the boy.

One brings me happiness,
One fills me with pain.
Wish they'd stop switching,
Like a gift from old Troy.

The back of my eyes,
Feel as they lay to rest,
On a hard table, made of oak.

Pained by the pressure,
Of their very own weight.
While in rest, do they wish to soak.

Sleepy is a term,
Often they are named.
But wide and alert, do they seem to rest.

While bearing dreams of their own,
Of being embraced by darkness,
Melting away, into sweet slumbers chest...

I'm getting older,
I feel it in my soul.
A soul once believed, to already be old.

Maybe due to injuries,
Taken to my skull,
Do ancient images, in my thoughts, go cold.

It's not exactly,
Like those images are gone.
Not entirely,
Have they been lost.

Just painted right over,
With a common White Out...
At a severe,
And high of a cost.

Numerous people,
Have numerous ideas,
Should the devil man actually exist.

And as to the greatest of dangers,
The greatest of threats,
That this evil, has placed in our midst.

Lately an idea,
Has whispered to me,
Inventing the word Victim...

And letting us do with it, whatever we wish.

There once was a ray,
Of pure heaven sent light.
Speeding through the Galaxy,
With all of it's might.

Nothing in creation,
Could approach it's self made apex,
Still casual observers simplified it,
Through jealousy's self-imposed vex.

"If you've seen one,
You've surely seen them all.
Same with that blasted light,
Even if a star child it is called."

No one seems to consider,
As it happily dances.
That each glimmer it shines,
Speeds deadly dimmings advances.

Yet shine, it will continue,
As that's what it's birth was for.

Sparkling until finally fading.

Leaving those observers with shivering thoughts...

"I should have loved the warmth more..."

Long has it been,
Since I've picked up the ink.
And drained, all of my thoughts away.

I've missed the flow of words,
The unbridled free form vent,
Returning emotions, gone too long astray.

Ready?  I think I'm not,
But a dabbler I've always been.
And dabbling, is often my favorite form of play.

So though it's been a while,
playfully I try to write.
And hopefully, I come back, another day.

We fought,
Like beasts,
Not knowing how to speak.

It escalated,
Quickly,
That day.

Physical confrontation,
Little as I was,
I bit him,
With all of my might.

He shrieked in pain,
Rebounded with rage.
Against a brick wall,
My brother bashed my head.

Over and over,
Till I was limp.
By six years old,
I fully understood "dead".

I don't recall much,
Vision came and went.
Sounds,
Fled from my ears.

Though I couldn't see my mother,
Nor could I hear her cry.
I simply somehow...
Still felt her tears.

Into the bathroom,
She placed me in the bathtub.
Like trying to wash away,
The near fatal sight.

But as everything faded,
From the bathroom that night.
A strange man,
Appeared to my right.

Above me,
He looked down.
With such sadness I've not known.
And a decision,
Wilfully came to my mind.

Stick around,
Carry on.
Live and proceed.
Or die,
And let it's peace,
Be a moment so kind.

And as that decision,
Came to my thoughts.
I looked,
Upon this strange man.

Hovering in the bathroom,
His presence, familiar.
Like myself,
But aged, and knowing a plan.

"Not yet...
There's still something you must do."

And that's the end of that memory.

It haunts me,
But subtle.
In quizzical ways.

I don't know,
Exactly what I saw.

But tonight,
I sit thinking,
Those sad words said so certainly.
Said, with a heart reaching out to me.

It's been far to long,
Since I sat and wondered...

"Did I really turn out,
To be,
who I really wanted,
to be?"

And have I finally done it,
By age 40.
Whatever I've been meant to do.
When, can I finish,
This absurdity?

My heart hurts,
Like pierced by a red hot thorn.
And it's contents drain.

I know these feelings are fleeting,
But the searing pain,
Feels like it's all of me that will remain.

And all I can think,
Is nothing.

Don't take word's,
Like vulnerable,
And honest

As though they were made,
Out of ash.

The tears that you shed,
With two words such as this,
Are moist reminders,
Fallen, right from Hopes lash.

Instead be fearless,
But not the angry kind.
And don't,
Be fearless alone.

But instead,
Be the fearless,
That when you look in their eye,
Forever, you know that you're home.

Be all the crazy,
Weird that you can.
Even if it's a little bit gross.

Because when they love you,
And true trust you both share,
You have, what you've always needed most.

Let your insecurities,
Wash away with spoken word.
But words, of trust,
That squash, all form of doubt.

And be sure every syllable,
Every spoken vowel,
Exudes,
The faith you're both about.

Take this advice,
From one who's lost much to fear,
And grieves,
Filled by regret.

For if I had been braver,
If I'd trusted her more.
My insecurities,
Wouldn't, have been my own death.

For half of my life,
I have loved her.

For half of my life,
She was there.

For all of my life,
I have blundered.

Not understanding,
For what, I truly care.

I watch as half of me is leaving.
I feel myself torn in two.

I'm powerless now to the motion,
Of farewell,
And bidding adieu.

I find it rather interesting,
Love defined, as by my age.
My own timeline tells me,
In defining I was no sage.

Seems just as we grasp a meaning.

Time completes.

And we're forced to turn the page.

I know now that my definition,
Is something a touch more whole.
A slightly less shallow meaning,
Is something I now know.

For I once thought it required,
For love, to be give and take.
That those were points to tally.
It was a balance we must make.

Which true this is,
To small degree.
There should be equal parts.

Investment made by one,
Must reside in both our hearts.

And tally true,
One exists.
But count it never should we.

For if the love,
Is true to both,
Time will let us see.

Rushing love,
Poor demands,
Expectations run amuck.

But if you try,
Unconditional faith,
Your love, won't, be in need luck.

And believe me when I say this.
Take lessons like this to heart.

For if you don't,
Learn real love.
You'll miss it as it parts.

Sit at my desk,
Hiding from pain.
Years record,
At ten thousand frames.

Slowly I feel,
All that hurts so much.
Isolating myself,
When I'm desperate for touch.

Loved ones flutter by,
Stop by, say hello.
All from a distant,
Whisper at my elbow.

Now I'm alone.
And I wouldn't have to be.
If I simply had turned.
And engaged my family.

Some days,
You want to stand in your home,
Set it on fire,
And watch it all burn.

Some days,
You want to stand in your home,
Breath in the memories,
And exhale the love.

The hardest days,
Are when you want to do both.

There's a pain I feel,
When I'm feeling most alone.
And old ugly whisper's,
Approach me at all times.

I scream and yell,
And today they abide.
Yet they lurk,
Plotting my crimes.

I tell myself,
I'm better than them.
I'm stronger,
And far more equipped.

But I know I'm no mountain.
I know I've been weak.
I cry,
As hearts desires are skipped.

My greatest coping,
Mechanism of all time.
Always,
Stared at me in tears.

Until the day,
Her heart crumbled at last,
And left,
Awakening my fears.

I've none to blame.
Save the demons inside.
As they've long,
Been a part of me.

One day I hope.
A truce can be met.
And those whisper's,
Will love what we see.

That love is my med,
And is theirs as well.

And a new whisper,
Will become a fierce yell.

I see the cracks,
Residing in the mirror.
But my skills, for repair,
Are lacking.

I've learned of the trades,
To mend the flaws.
But this tasks difficulty,
Leaves me just whacking.

Banging on,
The reflective filmed glass.
I often,
Just scatter the pane.

But I'm so **** afraid,
Of what this mirror does to others.
I don't think I can ever,
Share it again.

I will be ok.
I will bleed, from a broken heart.
But I, will be ok.

I will grow.
I will contort, through past regrets.
But in the end, I, will grow.

I will hope.
When all is finally,
Nothing but darkness.
A light will shine, and I will hope.

I will love.
As it may become,
My greatest fear.
One day, again, I will love.

For now I will struggle,
Let my inner voices pitch and scream.
But eventually.
I'll be ok.

One day,
When I say "I love you",
Someone will believe me.

That will be the day,
I thankfully,
Will die.

There's a substantial difference,
From knowing the path and walking it.

Yet never finding a path,
Differs much more.

I still don't know,
If my insecurities were caused,
By standing on front of the mirror,
Or because of the cracks in the mirror itself.

You know you're lost,
When all that set you to peace,
Becomes painful reminder,
Of where, you once were.

I hear her laugh,
Yet I've no idea why.
I see her smile,
Its mystery makes me cry.

Breaking up,
Separation,
Years of life making a friend.

Gone in a blink,
The loss last forever,
And the rollercoaster,
Turns it's first bend.

You'll start down so low,
And maybe you'll rise,
But tricky,
This coaster tends to go.

It'll pitch you and twist,
Will take you for loops,
With no restraints,
You be so exposed.

You fly by the attendant,
Scream "LET ME OFF!"
But she'll stare on,
Eyes, lost in a glaze.

And just as you accept it,
This is where your at,
The coaster will,
Will spit in your face.

It's not the attendant,
Nor the passenger on this ride,
They're really,
Not the ones you should blame.

It's this carnival called life,
And desire to be loved,
That will take you to a world,
Blurred by your teary haze.

Five years from now,
Oh hell, what a joke.
I barely recall,
My name.

Pleasant thoughts dance,
In the haunt of my head,
Misleading, and corrupting,
My brain.

Dream's of forever,
Washed away by a landslide,
Vast as time,
It slid it all away.

So tomorrow can *******,
Next year just the same.
Who the hell,
Misses the future, anyway?

Why do people feel compelled,
When days go so dark,
To talk of the hard issues,
That dwell in their heart?

We all have a voice,
Who whispers inside,
Honest words it presents,
A voice we can't hide.

"Work through your troubles..."
"Let it all out..."
Yet no one else was ever there,
When you broke with a shout.

They don't know the details.
All of that moments, nuance.
Only you... and that voice...
Can answer troubles taunts.

Talk if you need too,
Discuss if it helps.

But me and my voice?

We'll talk a while...
To no one else...

Again sleeps become,
A coveted prize.
Sheltered away,
From my heavy eyes.

Reluctant walls block,
The short treck to my bed.
And a quiet voice urges me,
"Don't go" in my head.

So I wait just a single,
Rooms distance away.
Relying on nature as sleeps saviour,
Regardless of what the voices say.

There's a magical method,
In beckoning a smile.
Like when addressing a frightened,
And lonely, sweet child.

Cast away fear,
Make ourselves seem smaller.
Remove all the threats,
Show a little, they're taller.

In any situation,
Where joyous eyes become rare.
This mystical process,
Seems to come out of nowhere.

I don't recall being taught,
How to make such an address.
In lifting a heart,
While calming it's stress.

The greatest vacation,
Is waking up,
Without a heavy heart,
Or a sad soul...

There's no path harder,
Than taking a wrong turn,
And walking,
Where you don't belong.

Every step is a labor,
Each sight is nightmarish,
And you scream,
Inside to turn around.

But them's is the breaks.
Behind is reflection,
Of a path,
Which you can never return.

So all that's left is hoping,
Through blurry eyed madness,
That light in you,
Won't cease to burn.

I wish i could say words don't have edges...
I wish I could say they're full of fluff.

But words all my life have been serrated.
And my skin, was never quite thick enough.

The old adage about sticks and stones,
Never really meant much to me.

Because words have never felt very blunted.
And from them, I so often bleed.

If I didn't think they held true intention,
Maybe, just maybe I'd get along.

But it seems after years of torture by stereo,
A world of words, is a place I don't belong...

A long time ago,
A little bird sat on my shoulder.
It whispered, it fluttered, it grinned.

It wasn't so much,
Just the ever so slight annoyance.
But it was far, so far, from a friend.

When your heart sheds tears,

Know that your heart is your souls night sky.

And its tears...

Are shooting stars being wished upon.

I once was a boy,
Asked little of others.
Most vanished, as though stolen by the night.

Days on end I remember,
Waking up to the still,
Of not a soul, to be found within my sight.

Notes on tables,
Bagged lunches magically appear,
Yet still, no one, to smile upon.

And as I grew older,
I find myself ignorant,
In how, this parenting thing, is done...

We brush past each other
Each in our own world
But your fragrance grabs me
Spins me with a twirl

I freeze for a moment
As I now recall
We touched just now gently
Neither noticing at all

I see you paused equal
With an interesting look
Like from some reverie
From which you were just shook

I wonder if you noticed
Our brief, gentle connection
Or did another sense of yours
Point you in my direction

Suddenly our eyes meet
And I start to blush
Your lips curl up slowly
Your cheeks reddening in a rush

And with your gentle manners
I'm left to just stare
As every little move you take
Is done without care

Both fluid and dazzling
In motion or fixed
I'm shocked by this moment
As something now clicks

I see your eyes twinkle
Blazing with a spark
That our touch has finally found
A home for our heart

I look out over,
The world and it's people.
And as I have grown,
There's a few things I wish I knew to be real.

Back when I was a teen,
In my early twenties,
I wish I really understood,
"Plenty of fish in the sea."

Back in the day,
I took this as perverse.
A twisted way of loving,
Something fake or rehearsed.

But as I've taken on age,
With a goal, to be somewhat a sage.

I now better feel,
The truth in that brief reveal.

Plenty of fish,
Doesn't mean you have your pick.
It's not that these fish are cheap stock,
For which you don't have to give a ****.

But that there are in fact,
At least a fish or two,
That may be just right,
May be ideal for you.

And before you mock,
This concept I believe,
Please stop and think,
About the things you too see.

You look around at others,
And see they found theirs.
They have people who love them,
They have people who care.

They're simply other fish,
Swimming in the same pond.
You to are a fish,
That someone's dreams are based on...

Sometimes I imagine,
I'm the man on the moon.
Brought to this existence,
Entirely to soon.

Without choice was I,
Cast into this role,
While being forced to watch,
All the beauty and wonder below.

To watch the youth,
Rumble and tumble,
Grow fair and strong,
See their joy and their trouble.

Unable to lend hand,
Or participate,
Simply from afar,
All this I must take.

To see a love flourish,
And the agony of loss,
I'd give all of my mass,
To be a part of their flock.

As the ultimate outsider,
No chance to be held...

As the ultimate outsider,
In the distance I dwell...

Heard,
Seen,
Felt,
Known.

Mostly I write,
So who I am is finally shown.

The meekest form,
I know to expose,
My inner workings,
How my heart goes...

I think it's no different,
Than the rest of the world.
I just wish everyone had a platform,
To be similarly heard.

I wish to define you,
As a passage of time.
A pageless memory,
With words on no line.

Yet too strong for,
A definition you are.
Like grasping sunshine,
From an exploding star.

So in my mind,
Vaguely you'll stay.
Understandings evader,
In which labels dismay...

It's been a while,
Since I exclaimed,
The rhymes without reason,
Colliding in my brain.

Fantasy,
Drama,
Realistic scenes.

Truth,
And Karma,
Wondrous dreams...

I guess I'm simply glad to be back...
Spilling my guts,
And dumping out my sad sack.

I hope this time,
I can discover something more profound.
Rather then just dump on any listener,
Who just happens to be around...