When there's moving so much
inside me, my belly, my heart
and parallel in my head

chaos everywhere
how could I be quiet?

My muscles follow slowly
because of the small balance
wheel my whole body rotates

just as the earth spins around
its axis, through elementary particles
shooting around back and forth

I am in the middle
and I don't feel the speed
united with my own storm

just movement
It's called inertia
but I call it life

It’s not a rule forever followed,
But as a rule,
I don’t write novels.
Tales told in fiction
Rely on reality for sustenance
and I don’t want to confuse you
with my world
that is always flipping,
whirling,
re-painting,
re-modeling,
and put simply,
always changing.

A failed boy,
Like a broken toy.
You snap the limbs,
And neck -
Oh joy.
Wondrous pain
And glorious disdain
From all the things around him
And what he'll never feel again -
What is happiness?
Besides a word
An unrequited sentiment
And statement
Of what he might be led to.
A shame -
But notice,
Change,
And rearrange.
Seeing his life
And plans
Fleet from him,
Burning in a flame
Of anxiety,
Depression,
Borderline personality
Episodes
And impulsive
Compulsive
Behaviors like choke holds.
Let go.
And box up the thoughts,
Put them on a shelf
Next to the forget-me-nots.
Because maybe he can rebound,
And unbound
From the chains
Holding him down
Like being pinned to the ground
He broke through,
Blasted of - shoot.
Like a rocket.
He is growing now,
Or maybe not.
But he can,
Somehow.

I miss parts of being a child
the endless days with not a care in the world
the simple clothes and bike rides
on back roads where grass grew so long it curled

in the gentle breezes of June afternoons,
or seeing the neighbourhood cats stalk,
& lay on warm side walks for their
mid day snooze.

or summers by the lake,
being in the sand and sun until late
there was no tomorrow, no yesterday
just then, there, today.

parents, and grandparents and aunts and uncles
still full of laughter, life, love and light.
as they aged, their lights fade
each day, they become more grey.
smiles strained, and eyes foggy
memories of their newborn babes.

it's all so strange.

it happens to all of us

the circle of life

we're born, we live, we die.

I just never knew to treasure all those long summer nights,
all of those days wasted away
not thinking of the future,
just what we were going to do today.