the once familiar
is no more
stumbling through
days
of unevenness
tripping over
invisible curbs
and taking a wild ride
on steady ground
the obvious
is unrecognizable
the comfortable
is foreign
the start of each day
presents new obstacles
and i feel like a new born
wet
soft
pliable
not the hardened shell
i've grown used to
this newness
i can't absorb
but i will try
and i will start over
each new day
embracing the obstacles
that offer me
new hope.

i coax my body
to keep very still
to listen
i drink in
the noises
of the night
a dog barks
a train whistles
a car screeches
to a stop
sometimes
a soul cries
trying to be silent
but the quiet night
betrays her
drunken laughter
skims the streets
my own imagined
stories
giving life
to what i hear
and i think
there is
life
out there
somewhere
within range
of my own ears
and i listen
to the night
imaging purpose
of others
besides
myself.

grey skies
feed the grass
    & expand the earth
          which swallows seeds
for splashy blossoms.

i've been praying to god
even though i question  his existence
but i need something
      someone
to call upon
   sometimes
i had avoided him for a long time
refused to acknowledge
any truth in the
                actuality of a god

        and i am still skeptical

but there is a comfort
in feeling a bit spiritual

and it is nice knowing
that there may be someone
        something
that's watching out for me

even if it is myself.

he liked to take the boat
and drift in the waves
letting the gentle
splish splash
lull him into a state
of melancholic bliss.

i'm looking up at you
with tired eyes
silently begging you to

shut
     up

quit talking

take your arrogance
stuff it into that fake leather briefcase you carry
and hit it
   the road that is
bounce
   walk
     take a hike
and take your nonsensical words with you
your college bred
   egotistical
     masochistic
      *******

you have taught me

n o t h i n g

you obviously love the sound of your own voice
but to me
it's like the last swipe of the razor
cutting off my lifeline.

i want a refund.

i write to remember
i write to forget
i write to remember to forget
or to forget to remember

i write when i'm sad
i sometimes get sad when i write
i write when i'm angry
i write when i'm drunk
i try writing when i'm sober
but those poems sometimes stunk
(i'm sober now...)

but i rarely write when i'm happy
probably because i despise
cutesy, flowery, happy go lucky
"roses are red,
your love is my greatest joy"
types of poetry...

but, hey, that's me...

look at you
with your cockeyed smile and starry eyes
do you view the world
through a nice, comfortable
haze
does your vision filter out
the sharp edges
leaving you with a blurry outline
so everything seems soft
   muted
floating through the day
intoxicated by the fabrication
of what you believe to be true
   and content with that
why question supposition
when drifting through the day in a dreamlike state
is so much easier.

i dreamt of you last night
your face filled my sight
the sincerity in your eyes
was almost believable

we laughed and
held each other
i remember you looking past me
searching
   for something more
or so it seemed

and i woke with a longing
so now i am burdened with thoughts of you
and what a perfect dream
you make.

i'm blown away
by the smoke seeping from your eyes
smoldering
is the word i think
when i look deep into you
dark
   shaded
     obscure
alone
but never lonely
   not you
you've reached
   but are unreachable
the distance between
   is perfectly measured
enough to keep
   but not be kept
gliding through life
   vaporous
encircling in a sensual embrace
   then dissipating
at the slightest touch.

there's nothing worse
then tears
that refuse to flow.

the end is within reach
close enough for me to touch
making my fingertips tingle
and my legs weaken
with the fatigue of
over-analyzation

it rips worries apart
in my already warped mind

the good becomes bad
and the bad dissipates
quickly
because i want so desperately
   to feel good
about considering the need
   for an end

but i'm held firm by chains of
cowardice
   guilt
     and a love
that just won't let go.

i'm breathless

searching for the mouth
that will connect
with mine

us both

inhaling deep
        exhaling out

offering a sense
                        of being

finding stable ground

by breathing
a common
breath.

i write
because i can
i read
because i desire dreams
i hope
because it's all i have
i don't give up
because i don't know how
i love
because of you
i live
because you need me

i live
because i need you.

i'm too fickle
        for love

   the dark haired boy
with the wicked grin
becomes obtuse
   in a week or two

blondie with the goatee
   provokes a wide yawn
and makes my eyes sleepy

   the bald headed stud
with the big muscles
makes me want to bang my head
against the wall

but...the brooding gent
   who recites poetry
with a voice that makes me purr
   in all the right places
who has a flock of messy brown hair
   that hangs just right
and deep eyes that read my soul
   like a well written novel
his lips are always moist
   and most often poised
to offer a shy smile

him
     i'll keep

for a little while longer.

floating on the essence
of your last words to me
holding on for dear life
to the lifesaver
that were your promises
hitting the bumps
of your lies
unable to breathe
drowning
in the confusion of your commitment
seeing you for the first time
when surfacing
and realizing you were not my hero

i have saved myself.

changing directions
midlife
is a scary thought

but when things become too tedious
   too boring
    too predictable
i think the choice is obvious

taking a chance
and embracing
the pounding of my heart
as a sign of anticipation
   instead of fear
gives me the courage i seek
to welcome something new.

focused on the ceiling
while lying in bed
crazy thoughts
fill my head

do i feel right
were my intentions true
or were my reasons selfish
when it comes to you

do i ignore the nagging
in my brain
that things ain't kosher
and i'm to blame

i've lied, i've cheated
with no remorse
just to be with you
which made it ok, of course

but now my thoughts are cloudy
i'm questioning my actions
was it worth all that
for a little satisfaction

'cuz now you're gone
probably forever
so all that impropriety
was for nothing...

whatever.

there's a man
walking the streets
holding an umbrella frame
(no umbrella)
and wearing a rumpled, tan overcoat
he wears galoshes
(didn't think people still did)
a battered cowboy hat
and nothing else

he whistles a tune that's not familiar
and smiles a toothless smile

his whiskers are coarse
his hair unwashed
and dirt cakes every crease on his body

but he smiles
a toothless smile
and whistles a tune that's not familiar

everything he owns
is carried in a black hefty
slung over his shoulder
he sleeps by the river at night
and relishes in the sunshine by day
he places an old tin top from a thermos
(which has long ago disappeared)
by his side
while he snoozes
and doesn't ask for a thing
but if he wakes
and sees his cup brimming with coins...

he smiles
a toothless smile
and whistles a tune that's not familiar

he feels his days are full
he is grateful for every minute
the river is his lullaby at night
the sun his companion by day
and when he thinks of how fortunate he is...

he smiles
his toothless smile
and whistles a tune that's not familiar.

i've hoped
   i've lied
     i've been made a clown
just to seem happy
happiness does not come easy
   for me
i'm more comfortable in sadness
sadness i understand
sadness i cradle
hold close to my *****
cherish

i'll continue to project cheeriness
i'll continue to laugh
i'll continue to exclaim to the world
I ...AM...HAPPY!
just to be able to retire
   unaccompanied
in the dismal comfort
of aloneness.

to become whole
i must become
    empty

to live in purity
i must cleanse my soul
of suffocating thoughts
   to be swept away
and replaced with
        the truth
           of heart gripping love

the love that surrounds me
has been suppressed
   quieted
       muffled
i will allow it
a voice
so it can sing to me
a song of beauty
           and peace
while offering me a chance
               at pure happiness.

will you offer me...

   an ear
to listen to my hopes
   my dreams
     and my fears
    eyes
to see beyond what is placed before you
into the depths that make me
who i am
   arms
to hold me when i am afraid
   light
to replace the darkness
that sometimes envelopes me
    an open mind
to accept things about me
you don't understand
    your soul
so that i can hide out there
when i need to be alone
                          with you
    & your heart
so i know that i am safe
without questioning
                         the reason why

give these things to me
and i will give you all that i am

i promise.

candied greetings
topped with syrupy
smiles

sugar coated hugs
coated with the sweetness
of memories long
forgotten

long lost aunts
tossed into the mix
of relatives
eagerly awaiting
acceptance

     the holidays...

a forceful insurgence
of family
that normally
would be
ignored

so much sadness
   unease
     self loathing
where does it come from
   i wonder
what makes a person
feel so low
being kicked around
   used
     abused
       tortured
deep in the soul
hoping to find love
accepting anything less than
but clinging to the need of wanting
   more
such damaged spirits
   floating
    bumping into each other
then landing onto the lap
   of a being less than kind
and offering of themselves
   hanging onto an imagined love
                           once again.

if i don't wake up tomorrow
   i'm cool with that
i'll accept my fate
i know i've tried my best
for me
   for you
but you'll miss me
   i know
i don't think you can handle me
   not being around
and i can't do that to you
i've got too much to show you yet
too much to teach you
when you show me you're okay without me
   then
and only then
will i move on
so, i guess
   no
i'm not okay with not waking up
i will wake up
and i will continue to show you
how not to live your life
by continuing to live mine
exactly the way i have been.

i wait
expectantly
willing you
to look my way
you are the only one
i've noticed
across a room
full of uninteresting
people
your smile
poked me
i turned
and there you were
now i wait
eager
for that one glance
because when our eyes lock
i will try
and reel you in.

sitting on the edge
watching the waves crash the shore
below me,
feeling the light mist
caressing my face,
   i close my eyes in the comfort of it all
and i'm gradually brought to peace
   a laid back acceptance
of all that embraces me in my life
i feel assurance in the choices i have made
and a positiveness in the direction i am headed
it takes the simple form of natures majestic beauty
to help me realize...
   that life is good
and that my life, although chaotic at times,
is beautiful.

imagination
is a funny thing
and getting lost in the hallucinatory bliss
of a fantasy
may become ethereal

our minds
are moldable
   & viscous
the formation
directed
by a mere thought

   or thoughts...
that sometimes
consume
envelope
suffocate
inhabit
our very soul

floating through
an imaginary world
keeps us lost
   saves us
protects us
from the harsh reality
of what
really is.

waking up slowly
hoping upon hope
praying
that the need isn't there
but opening your eyes
you realize it is
and for a split second you are disheartened...
...until you reach for the bottle
        and take a long swig
feeling the warmth encircle you
as excitedly as a lovers embrace
soaking your soul
and feeding your blood
with an intensity that is comparable to
   nothing
you are spellbound
   vulnerable
you feel an imagined strength
the power to do all
   be all
     see all
overcoming everything
   and anything
you are spellbound
blinded by a false sureness
thinking you are strong
not realizing how weak you really are
what a slave you've become
for that bottle has become your lifeline
a temporary paramedic
that keeps you afloat
not knowing that without it
you will no longer
be.

the poetic soul
screams love!

there can be
no greater poem
than one written
with a broken heart

passion oozes
from fingers
typing words
encased in agony

a being
wallowing in self pity
makes oh, such embraceable poetry

blood soaked keypad
from overworked fingers
desperate to convey
the pain held within

give me a spirit
crushed by love
and i will give you
a kick *** poem!

i want to dip my finger
into happiness
and let it drip
into my mouth
savoring the taste.

there's alone
    & being lonely
embracing solitude
    & being friendless
having your own thoughts
secured with solid belief
   not needing approval
     not waiting for acceptance
being comfortable
   with yourself
and with what you project
and believe in
feeling peace
     in the way you choose
to live your life

feeling solid
with who you are.

i saw you toss your trash
onto the sidewalk
   and i cringed
my heart beat intensified
roaring loudly in my head

bu-bump bu-bump bu-bump

my hands started to shake
and i desperately looked for something
to hold on to
   a stick
     or bat
yes, a bat would be better
so i could walk up to you
and knock that silly grin
off your face
and stuff your trash down your skinny throat

but instead...

i picked up the trash
and tossed it in the bin

*yeah, i'm a coward
eat it.

wind blown
   and angry
disappointed
   and rude
cold
   and wet
waiting for the bus
   late of course
   cursing the sky
which responds
by batting my face
with more snow
grey skies
   annoying people

and you

the necessary heat
   that melts my heart.

when he took her
he looked down
and dropped her gently
a small amount of blood
touched his fingertips
which he glanced at
indifferently
before walking away
he glanced back
and wished silently
"you should've said yes"
now her soul soaks his
her being no longer
but he remains unemotional
   uninterested
he is who he is
because if she would've said
   yes
things might have been different.

is it better to live life
medicated and content
or sober and dispirited?

do i have the power to end you
will the force of my words
make you go away
my look, will it stop you
in your tracks
and make you cower
like a whipped dog in the corner
do i possess that much control?
i wish i knew
for if i did
i might just be tempted
   to use it
           on you
to make you disappear
forever.

looking at the people around me
are they really so happy
   joyful
   at peace
do they not have worries
   discontentment
   disarray
   uneasiness
   cold sweats
   hard hearts
   disgusting habits
   habitual consistencies
   cheating minds
   adulterated souls

or is it only me?

the asphalt scrapes my knees
as he drags me along
bump
   bump
      bumping
against the rock strewn road
my head hangs low
my sweater is torn
and i'm naked from the waste down
   and *****
    very, very *****
he might think i'm dead
or at the very least, unconscious
whatever he feels
he doesn't show it
he just grips the strap
tied around my wrists tightly
having wound it once
   twice
   three times
around his own hands

i don't know where he's taking me
i don't remember where i've been
  
and
there's no use fighting it
even if i had any fight left

i'm beyond humility
i feel no shame
the only thing that tells me i am alive
is the pain
the constant, raw, exposed
deeply embedded
pain.

your breath
on my skin
shatters me to pieces

I, as a whole
am gone
you've broken me
then look upon the mess of me
with a satisfied grin

as you turn to walk away
i know i won't be coupled
until the next time we meet...

...maybe.

spilling out of bed
like molasses
to congeal on the floor
flowing slowly
wrenched by determination
towards the stairs
oozing gently down
step by step
drip by drip
finally reaching the bottom
where the sloppy puddles merge
gathering strength
like a phoenix rising
but then again, not
i stand unsteadily
holding onto the wall
to brace myself
overcome by a rush of queasiness
i rush to the lavatory
to alleviate my distress...

I WILL NEVER DRINK AGAIN!

blown apart by a glance
withered by a look
stomped
      battered
   and beaten
without a hand being raised
or a word spoken
the power to destroy
just by turning your head slightly
and giving a cold eyed stare
the words have already been spoken
the bruises long healed
    and covered up
and now the power you've built
               is kept alive
deep within your eyes.

sifting through old photos
remembering this time
and that
noticing, just now
that half lit
smile
seeing, just now
the vacant eyes
staring at the lens
begging to be let go
wanting an end
to the phony existence
spent with a phony
somebody
trying to keep up
appearances
for the eye
of a camera.

i'm not that person
who feels happiness
when others are happy
    instead
i relish in their misery
and pain

the downhearted and defeated?
   i am drawn to them
like flies to ****

i look to the deflated
secretly giddy
knowing they have lost
all hope

come to me
so i could feed your fire
of despair
because the more desperate you are
the more content
i become.

walking through the door
she is greeted by a few
half assed hellos
she nods and heads to the familiar stool
she usually occupies at the end of the bar
the stool is maroon, cracked vinyl
and wobbles dangerously when she sits
she instinctively reaches for her cigarettes
kept in her jacket pocket
then stops with annoyance recalling the ban
'***** rocks, joe'
and the iced, clear drink
seems to appear out of nowhere
'keep em' comin''
she sighs hungrily after the first sip
and settles deeper, more relaxed, into her seat
again, the cigarettes
again, the weary shake of her head
she perks a little when reaching for her drink

joe gives way to dave
and the late afternoon
creeps into early evening
the clinking of glasses becomes more frequent
all the stools and most of the tables are filled

there’s drunken laughter
tipsy arguments
glass eyed flirtations
bold approaches
weepy departures

   and she sits through it all
with her *****
on her stool
alone
at the bar.

“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden

now
you're a fleeting breeze
a swift sensation
gliding past my face
just out of touch
i can feel the softness
but the comforting warmth,
the protection you'd provided
is long gone
and i am left
with the memories
of what could have been.

i turn delighted
watching the tears
roll down your face
washing away
the vile
you seem to project

your eyes are cleansed
of the toughness
brought forth
by a damaged heart

you try too hard

let go
and let be

life isn't a battle
it's a gift.

you stand there
in the midst of an audience
that you always seem to draw
   animated arms
   loud voice
   obnoxious laughter
hurtful words
   as always
using the vulnerable
as your verbal punching bag
   the skinny pock marked guy
with the stutter
   the shy girl
with thick glasses
and stringy hair
the plump jolly man
who enjoys to eat
                so what
but to you
they are targets
objects used to get your rocks off
the things needed
to further expand
your self identified
     power
morality?
     you have none
decency?
     absolutely not
courtesy?
respectability?
good manners?
compassion?
     unheard of...
no, you...
     you're a bully
but also, a shell of a man
that feeds on the weaknesses of others
an egotistical *******

but someday
you will meet your match
man
     or woman
who won't cower in your presence
who will expose you for the quivering idiot
that you truly are.

and that will be the one time
i will be part of the audience
   to watch.

you
       of all people
i thought
              would not
hurt me

but you did

i try to ease my mind
by thinking
you were inebriated
                         lost in a haze

but that doesn't make it hurt
                              any less

i always believed
that a soaked brain
                speaks the truth
but if that is true

then i have been crushed
by my one true love

you

my son.