I felt so sad as I took a jar of paper stars from the top shelf of my school locker and held it close to my chest as I walked down the halls and I knew you were watching... Arden.

You just didn't do anything.

You knew what it was like to cling to life the same way you hung from death, like it was some kind of sick game. However, this is not a one player kind of match now, is it?

I powerwalked through the halls once, wanting so much to die. I had no plans, just a few ideas. You know, I didn't consider hanging myself in my mind to be a "plan to die" because I didn't actually write out the plans, I just thought about them a little too much.

I answered "No." when asked if I made plans to **** myself, because in my mind, I really didn't make plans.


When asked if I was homicidal, I don't remember what I said, but I remember not saying "no". I remember that I've imagined punishing people, but never killing people. I want to hold their lives in my grasp and hear them apologize like they actually mean it.

But I am too nice for that. Too Christian for that.

It takes a strong person to lift weights, but a stronger one to lift the personal weight off your own back.

I've thought about retiring my poetry career 10 years too early, not even making it to my mid-twenties before quitting simply because there were too many people too eager to get offended at my work.

I will not play innocent to your sickly made games.

I am no fool.

Although, I will not retire my poetry career just yet. Because every time I feel the urge to quit, I am here at 3:22am writing long strings of poetry.

Arden's gonna have a fricken sleeve of tattoos.
Alex is gonna have pain.
Baer is gonna have me taking care of her sister.

But who really cares about that? Because Arden's gonna have something.

Arden has friends,

education,
teachers,
a job,
a life.

Arden's gonna have love.

Arden's gonna have ******' love.


Alex is not going to beg for my jaw unhinged from all the fighting.
Alex will not bend.
No sir.


Baer has hired me as the worlds worst babysitter, and her sister, only a few years younger than I already holds me to a higher standard than most.

But Arden has more to life than me.

There's no comparison.

I too, want to die when I'm not staying up this late to escape my thanatophobia.

I will not live to see Arden's graduation.

But I will live to see the hurricane that comes after it.

I don't feel special Baer.

But no one really needs to know that.

Won boxing matches with Lewis , Lasky, Corn Griffin, Swiderski,
Then many more titles with Griffiths, Farr, Stillman, and Levandowski,

Jackson, Caggiano, Darnell and Dobson
Something he could tell his grandson

His greatest match of all was the title he earned against Max Baer
The fight was the ultimate win at Gardens of Madison Square

A very passionate man for his wife and children he went to great lengths
To keep his family together during the depression, even in times of brink

Served honorably in WWII as a 1st Lieutenant
Owned a surplus supplier of marine equipment

Helped to construct the bridge Verrazano
It was the proud city’s beautiful Picasso

Gone is Jim Braddock, a movie about him, CINDERELLA MAN to be sure he’s not forgotten
His Granddaughter Rosemarie Dewitt  played his neighbor Sara Wilson, who was downtrodden

Copyright 2014
All Rights Reserved
Biopoem

When I tell my testimony, it becomes a tragedy known as my "6 - month story".

Unique in its weight, age, and mental destruction.

And I'm a broken person, you know that.

But hear me now, I'm trying to say what's important.

I don't write much about God these days, but I find myself in a position where I need to say... something.

I don't blame God for what happened to me. If anything, I blame myself. And I know blaming God gets me nowhere.

But being on this camp ground for the fifth year in a row seemed different, knowing I may be older, but wisdom and experience has fallen beneath me.

The friends I knew, younger than I am, and yet they surpass me.

And I fell into sadness again.

An easy crier, I am.

But then, suddenly there was something here.

A curious voice, wondering how I came up with all these song titles, and claiming how awesome I am.

And me... being absolutely floored at how much you wanted to talk to me. Let alone... learn my songs?

Nobody has ever done that before.

Suddenly I don't feel so alone. I feel like I can sing again, like I can smile again, and this two hour session with you learning my song is the longest surge of happiness I've had in months.

And I don't want it to stop.

I feel... at home.

This old campground, and having someone to talk to.

Or hold my hand and tell me it's going to be okay...

Instantaneous connection.

I've had it before. With many other people who have left me what feels like a lifetime ago.

I fear I may get too attached, or scare you away.
That I might find a peace here in your friendship that may pull itself away before I can say "thank you"...

So..

Thank you.

If God has helped me through anything in life, He didn't never had to give me riches, or fame, or reputation.

He gave me people.

So many people.

It's been so long since anyone has been a new friend to me.

And I'm so glad that you found me. Even if it was ten years later.

Time has a way of being like that.

God being bigger than time, knowing something like this would happen.

Of all the people who could've found me at that time in my life...

I'm glad He picked you.

I know, I'm sappy and cliché, and write sentimental things too early because I'm afraid of losing good people. Mostly because I have lost so many already.

But I hope you'll stay.

I'll have that sad song written soon enough.

And you gotta be around to hear it.

Some days, I'll just sit in my room and listen to one song on repeat.

I'll slowly make my way to my poetry, and find myself feeling more empty than poetry needs me to be.

Poetry is the letter someone spilt water on but you can still read whatever was written on it because for whatever reason the world decided to be nice for a minute.

My sister is nice too. I think you can say I've only really known her for 7 or 8 years. We were too far apart in age for me to even care she existed for the beginning of my life. And just as I get comfortable with her being here, being home...

She moves to another country.

I guess one way or another, your heroes do fly away.

My best friend is a girl named Baer. Although, I cannot tell you if I'm her best friend, she is mine.
I always seem to latch on to people who seemingly don't show a lot about how they think of me.

Maybe I just don't look hard enough, but isn't that what all self-deprecating people do? Avoid mirrors and self-image until they come to scourge it? Punching out mirrors either cuts you up or picks apart your reflection, and hey, whatever.....

It's just you.

Baer's sister is a whole other story, funny and open, far away from time to time, but wanting a hug when the time comes.

I've always been the type of person to idolize others who treat me well. Perhaps it's because I think so much of them compared to myself. But it's okay.

I would do anything for them.

I'm so full of everything for the people who are everything to me.

And for myself... I'm no hero.
Capes just aren't my style.

6 months you say.

That’s how long you’ll be away. You leave today actually, maybe in the next 6 or 7 hours. You’ll be saying goodbye to your family and your home and I will be here.

I haven’t seen you since last Sunday’s church service and I think I won’t see you until these months are over.

To tell you the truth Baer, I’m scared of being by myself for that long. Most days you’re the sister I met too late, and I do and don’t wish we met sooner, but as for right now that’s not a big deal.

So I’ll count the hours in 6 months. 4380 of them to be exact.

I’ll get through how I can, if I can.

You remember what you said to me before I left the church that morning?

“Call me, text me, I’ll make time for you.”

It still seems funny that you’ll make time for me like I’m incredibly important or something.

I still haven’t even texted you. Part of me believes you’re too busy for me to barge in.

But I will wait out these hours. That’s something I can do.

Before you go...

I just thought you should know... you know..

I love you always. Come home safe.

Most of us carry around the present and cumulative effects of many wounds. We've experienced uncounted broken promises, unkind words, and moments when our hopes for acceptance have been brutally crushed. Some of us have experienced more overt abuse and infidelity. How do we live with that pain? ....Other people hurt us because they are drowning and doing what it takes to fill their own emptiness.. (G. Baer, M.D.)

They are lurking everywhere
just waiting to pounce.....invade.....take
all for the sake of only
themselves.
They steal what is precious
from anyone they can
feeding hunger never sated
starving in their gluttony.  

Pay attention
                   *defective
Don't let them in
                   invasive
Protect yourself
                   vindictive
From their sin
                   *destructive

When Donna Douglas met Max Baer she was a dumb teenager with big moles on her rear end. Max was very kind and asked if she'd like to go on a picnic to which she said yes. Once on the picnic grounds, Max exhibited his mega-strength by lifting a dead squirrel high above his head before throwing it off a cliff. Donna was moist from her girly desire to possess Max's muscular body in bed or at a truck-stop and he knew it. That night they made passionate love on a lawn chair that was discarded by Buddy Ebsen 3 weeks before because it was shaky.