~
find your torch
light me up

brittle and cracked
I like feeling this incomplete

I hope the nightmares don't start
without me

but if they do
let them stir
as the crow flies away
on dangerous days

with a host of stars
fiery god-smacked
in the vast well of night

where I could play king
for an hour
to a wounded land

and a pair of queens
kept in high dudgeon
lest they sing

their burning song
in rich hues
and deep tones
painted on the warm
analog tableau
on my skin

distant
distillation
happiest when sad

with time and space, some
of the intricacies
can be airbrushed out

but I don’t think
imperfect love
can take too many fires
like that, because then
a renaissance heart
would certainly go black
~

living off
of apologies and time
spent in desperation
recollecting and reflecting
on where
all of the good vibes went
then
I may have smoked them.

underestimating my
control
of the situation
like I'm not
educated in protecting
my Peace
and healing my whole
mind, body
and Spirit

deflecting questions of
my integrity
all
because I prefer
complexity -
it takes me
three lefts
to make it right.

also some
times
I have to remind
myself
that it's okay
to cry
boiling hot emotions
got this little black kettle
singing high

currently
I'm choking
on the
hard pill
of a broken home
..heartache
worse than a broken bone
this is admitting to myself
that
I could be traumatized.
True.

I need a
get away
like Lenny says
quick break
with Mary, Garcia
and Vega
the only chance I ever get
to take flight.

in all Honesty
I am really
tired
of people
pushing me
and pulling me.
college drop-outs
they think
they schooling me
they are
tools to me.
Shorty,
swing my way
with that hammer
No
I'm not
driving for that *****.

some say real
Love is
Black
some say it's
blue..
I say it's both
you know
the winners
always leave with
a little
bruise .
or two . .
or3 . . .

there probably may come
a time of day
where
you have to choose
whether
to lose
yourself
in this matrix
or
to fight
by your own rules
and well

Here

is to you,
my Little Light
your presence is proof
that some
times
choosing
True
Love is
the right thing to do.

”Don’t look!”, mother said
“It’s not for your eyes to see”
So it sat there, that little red box
in-between curiosity and me
“Be a good boy and put it down
promise to never open the lid,
You never un-see, or undo
a memory, you wish you never did”

I traced the edge, gave it a shake
and placed upon it my ear
listening what may mysteriously make
that ruffle from what I could hear
So I sat a lot, wondering what
could possibly be inside
It’s only a peak, I’m much too weak
my conscience I cannot hide

It can’t hurt, no one will know
after all, it’s just a little look
I’ll open and close, see how it goes
no harm, just like a book
tempting as is, a ‘sorry’ can’t fix
I wish to have kept my word
when mother was gone
and I, with the box alone
peeped in and out flew a bird

Not to string you along, my dear

but we cannot simply cut ties with the past

even the inconsequential have its consequences

You might outlive regret, but that doesn't mean all is forgiven

Your actions
Are like a bold pen.
Never erasable.
Always visible.

I would be lying
If I said I wasn't afraid of failing.
But I'm more afraid of succeeding.
There's so much more pressure.
You have more to lose.
Your actions have more consequences.
You have to think more carefully
Before you choose.
But sometimes, you have to take risks.
You just have to decide
If it's worth the extra stress.