Isn't it weird how fast I've fallen?
I already miss your spirit, sunshine.
To be frank, wherever I'm going
I feel the urge to be back all the time

I miss museums and ancient buildings,
The river, the grass and the trees.
I miss the way I was usually feeling
While I was walking down your streets.

I don't honestly know how it happened,
How quickly you captured my heart,
But I could've never imagined
That I'd miss Roma so hard

REIT

My soul is a vacant lot.
Years ago sold to some shyster
looking to make a quick buck.
No one could live on those kind of wages.

The emptiness now a flattened yard
all sorts of wreckage leaking power steering fluid with anti-freeze
an environmental hazard if nothing else.

My spirit is an abandoned brownstone
where photos once tacked
on walls reminiscent of happier times
smiles were genuine, ties were taught
Sunday best meant just that – then and there
A home fully furnished with memoires back in the day
now foreclosed
shuttered.

My heart is an empty warehouse
years ago used to recycle broken promises, empty wishes, hollow, unrealized dreams
My good intentions could push through the hurt
a cost of doing business
never questioning the **** in – **** out logistics

Then, the last love broke away from the loading dock out back
on its forever journey to paradise
while I stood there on a rotting, empty platform
with the invoice in my hand
the NSF cheque written in blood
signed with my tears.


9/10 Feb ‘21

Rigid, impasto clouds
Stick out of the sky
Like Van Gogh
Put them there himself
Sky peaking between
Buildings and towers
Pushed and pulled
Twisted and ripped apart
Like fabric tearing slowly
Moved by the breeze
Invisible currents slicing
A silent cacophony of air
I reach up and feel
Solid, dried paint crackles
Under my finger tips
I pull my hand away
Digits stained white and blue and gray

Shifting streets and their buildings
Pulsing and moving and shaking
Jagged and prickly corners
Edges of windows glint
Like drops of blood
On the edge of a sword
Walls and sidewalks
Rough like a giant cat's tongue
The skyscrapers carve the landscape
Into a distorted forest
An amalgamation of today
And yesterday and the day before that
I reach forward and feel
I pull back in shock
Fingers pricked and knees scraped

The Gargoyle on the roof.
How far you've come,
Without moving an inch.
Always there;
Often unseen.
Standing steadfast,
but time and the elements
Will always chip away.

The Gargoyle on the roof:
Sometimes small,
Sometimes large.
It will make itself known one day
When it finally flies but
Is found to be frozen in stone.
Tumbling, tumbling down
To hit the ground
And shatter
Or will it be saved
From it's terminal fall
By my unsuspecting brain?
Will I be the one
Who shatters?

The clock revealed 4 am.
Glorious blue tones overtook the darkness;
The chirping melody was blurring into the scene of this vital composition of the dawn.

The buildings remained quiet.
The nearly vacant streets welcomed a few hard-working men;
I sensed the smell of the syrupy pastries from the old, dear bakery.

I pulled the sheets off of myself.
Let the chill early breeze settle on my chest;
The entirely opened windows left the walls glazed with the gold tinted sunrays.

I close my eyes again.
Perhaps I woke up by accident, though this rare occurrence was delightful;
For now, I'll just let my mind continue it's journey through my dreams...the deepest corners of my visions, the endless floating through the seas.

City stretching wide,
Touching on every side.
Buildings so high,
They look beyond the sky.
Space a playground of travel,
So vast it can only baffle.
Time a never ending maze;
We can subdue every phase.

The buildings are square
Lost is the taste
Profits are calling
Often built in haste
What an insult to the past
In this beautiful space
Opportunity to inspire
But more than likely a waste