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The faltered melody of past days
Guiding me towards darkness,
My last battle is here.
Holding onto a thin thread
Of all that is dear.
Slowly approaching my home
Where all that remains is me.
Looking out on an endlessly hopeless sea.
Love has failed us all once more
War begins
In front of me.
The Vault Sep 3
Breath in and out
Just a little sore
Neck, back, knees
Thighs, arms, shoulders
Some on purpose
Others from age
I wasn't like this before
But I have gotten better from a year ago.
You struggle
You survive
Breathing air
Until your heart works itself to death
And you die as well
Still Crazy Jun 2015

Happy Father's Day, God in Heaven!
(A Continuing Dialogue)


wonder if I am the first,
even the last,
to wish a deity,
happiness based on a human construct

but feeling groovy with you,
meaning we ride sums of the same
curves and the lines, grooves,
connecting holes in the palms of
our hands

ya see,
got some familiarity
and all that entails

the balance of imbalance,
it's tough I know,
load-bearing children,
leave ten ton scars,
but don't expect no
tea and sympathy from me

you and I,
we have our beefs,
and by the by,
master of the universe,
nothing has changed between us,
just saying, for the record,
ya know, for our inscribed
bible personal with our own bible argumentative stories privé

a human has no right to offspring,
but off they spring,
when the '**** dam’ springs a leak,
and them kids then spend
their lives.
saying yes and no
in light speedy abundance,
or worse!


they respondez
to whatever you suggest-see

rebels even when
they hug you
around the knees,
all knowing we papis (poppys)
fully, way in advance,
that in their supposed adulthood,
children will curse and bless you with
the equality principle
of self-righteousness and I know everything

Let us think upon it....

somewhere in the world,
it is a sabbath,
your citizen-creations
are beheading and burning
each other, Papa,
in your name,
so Happy Father's Day...

I mean,
really, that must be tough,
so it's perfectly clear
why you created free will,
all parents need a way to
walk away sometimes from
the children's choices

somewhere in the world,
it is a sabbath,
billions sending you a
litany of liturgy, a sweet songbook
in so many languages,
the simultaneous translation machina
must get overheated,
all those human claques submitting
liar loans applications

the backlog must be
eons in length

you see,  I am,
muy simpatico

of fatherhood,
what is my expertise?

a fair question
from one who provided
us the classic excuse,
"that's so not fair"

two sons have I,
a Cain and Abel,
so in this, expertise,
we've trod familiar ground

but this be about us pops,
not about how our embodied creatures,
bent and beautiful,
sending us formalities of video thanks,
should they remember or be bothered

maybe we should institute
greater frequency
of celebratory notifications,
making it easier for all of us
to forget,
lessen the guilt, the ache,
for it's more convenient, easier
to be overlooked,
with familiarity

I am not a complaint
in human guise,
not much, anyway,
and don't you fret,
I got you
a Father's Day present

as appealing as it is,
atheism in me won't take root,
cause I look forward to giving you
holy hell, next we meet
it's so richly deserved
so maybe I'll repost this in a year,
or maybe, I’l be close enough
to whisper this in your ears,either way, come hell or
high water,
Meus Pater,
you can bet your last bitcoin or
anything you might value,
I'll be bugging you,

(cause I'm
still crazy after all these years,
from standing upright,
on one left foot,
showing the world the poetry
of your world)

so tween us, I wish us
a Happy Father's Day
*best wishes's_Day
just one of our prior conversations:

A Personal God - Wailing and Complaining
for my friend, AJB, mother, artist

would anyone believe in invisible...
coordinator of billions of trillions
of interactions daily,
the microscopic
the telescopic

at what level
is there intercession
where is the
rhymed reasoning of
impoverishing failing-me inadequate comprehension

so here I am
at 4:00 am
wailing and complaining
not so much at life's happenstance,
not even a foolish why me uttered,
talking to invisibility,
demanding culpability
at the very least
an apology

by that act
admitting the fact
that in conversation with parties
invited and drop-ins welcome,
in the silence sewn
in the residence permanent
of my mind's lobe of disquietude

logic forgone,
I am a believer,
no understanding
nor forgiving
at the illogic
of my tragedy
not so divine,
wailing and complaining

this my diatribe
knowing your silence
is a listening signature,
my complaining and wailing
my curse my blessing,
my transmitting frequency
of a multivariate equation
demanding a solution

too busy mastering the universe?
your data base
endless and unfathomable
file this under
audios of
YouTubes of
complaining and wailing,
hoping you cleanse yourself
with a good long listen
purple turtle Apr 11
There comes one day,
when the world is
in the midst of a ****** battle
or when there is a serene scene,
we will pass.
like leaves in autumn
we'll fall, inevitably
like the scars in your heart
we will fade
And in our grave
will be snow
that will turn to tears
and water the flowers
Arke Aug 2018
do not read this poem
it is not made for you
this poem is a secret untold
of a memory I rarely think of
that was resurrected today
and I am the only one who knows it
and this poem is for me alone

I was maybe 5 years old and I both
do and don't remember her falling
spilling out of the giant porch window
like a slippery black fish out of water
and I do and don't remember seeing blood
on the snow and sidewalk and the sound
first of the fall, then someone opening the door
and I didn't understand where she went
instead, I stayed with my grandmother
who told me it was my fault she jumped
she didn't love me any more and I was bad
that she wouldn't be back for me
and I believed it, of course, it made sense
some of us are just born wicked, I knew
I have always been wretched, inhumane
she said she first noticed the evil in me
when I was very little, behind my dead eyes
that it was always there inside of me
so I knew the only way to rid myself
of my own evil was to do the same thing
she had done, all those years ago
so I wrote a letter and labelled it
Do Not Read
the last letter I ever thought I'd have to write
and it's a sad sort of irony that I would be
paying homage to someone who hated me so
but the black fishes and spirits from beyond
never came for me, and I wondered if
the worst punishment of all would be
to continue to be haunted and survive
just as she had all those years ago
Avaleen Jun 2018
and I decided to stay because there would be so many adventures lost without me
-continuing life
Nicole Bataclan Feb 2018
Twenty-one days,
They say,
Only twenty-one days
Til a new habit
Has a face ;
Kicking the one out
They wish to replace.

I can and I will,
I have
Worn change
As a second skin.

Twenty-one days,
They say,
Rather a lifetime,
If I may.

For true smokers hate quitting
Who are we kidding –
No switch for a cigarette lit ;

A new regime
To be a little more fit,
Ending cravings that will never leave

With alternatives.

We persevere.
Like an alcoholic giving up the bottle ;
Not taking a drink will always be a battle.

Twenty-one days,
They say,
Forever, if I may.

I love my bad habits ;
Glory is in continuing

(to quit).
I thought the end of the paragraph was the end of our adventure
That the pen went dry and our kind words died with it
The problem was I still had so much I wanted to say
So much I wanted to write down, but I didn’t have the strength
I miss your penmanship, you’re vivacious, elegant words
How they gracefully fell upon paper and my heart
For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I wrote too much.. or too little
I know you feel the same, too, I picked up on your subtlety
Though you stopped writing and the chapter ended suddenly
My words contain no fury or hostility towards you
Lonely nights when my pen graced the page
Brought memories of when my hands caressed your rosy cheeks
I’d be a liar if I said my tears didn’t smudge my words
For my heart aches for your tough and longs for your voice
Then one day I stumbled upon a new page
A familiar calligraphy lay fresh on the paper  
In an instant I had hope, our adventure was not over
A new chapter has begun and the story was just starting

Yanamari Nov 2016
Rays of warmth stroke my heart
My eyes, glazed, deliquesce
Resolve calmly enters my mind
My soul forced to start again

A ray of light passes by,
Enters a diamond's murky lair,
Reflecting multitudinous times,
Parting with rays to spare
Its continuity

Rays are lost everywhere
Refracted, diffracted, gone
Unable to recombine again
Forming a radiating unit of one.
Not needing to recombine,
As they move to consign
Rejecting inability
And escaping black holes...
Sam Pontillo Sep 2016
I miss you.
I miss the smiles that never wavered from our face unless we fell and scraped our knees in the playground.
I miss the love that radiated out from our heart to every single person that we met because we had no reason NOT to trust them.
I miss the nights when we'd wake up crying from a nightmare and mom and dad would comfort us.
I miss the family parties that we're actually enjoyable because there was still a kid table and we were still a kid.
I miss the laughter that escaped our lips and continued on until we were hunched over, grabbing our stomach, in tears.
Now... now we're just hunched over, grabbing our stomach, in tears because the darkness holds on and just won't let go no matter how many pills we take.
Now the family parties are us sitting at the end of the table, staring at our plate, hoping no one questions us, asking why we look so tired.
Now are the nights we stay up crying, hoping no one hears.
Now we're afraid to put our trust into someone because we know what it feels like to have our heart taken from us and smashed like a vase being dropped to the floor, knowing it can never be put back together again.
Now.. now we know what betrayal feels like, how the sharp stab of the knife feels upon our back, how not to share any thoughts because people would run away from how dark they are, how to curl up in a ball and tighten every muscle in our body to control our sobs during the anxiety attacks as if we're in the biggest competition of our life and the only way we win is if no one discovers us like this, how to force a smile onto our face like a clown has one painted upon theirs.
Now, now we're not a kid anymore and it feels like we've walked through hell and back but guess what we're still here ******.
We're still living, we're still breathing.
We've made it through the heartbreak, through the betrayal, through the mental illness and, hell, we've still got a long way to go, but we've made it this far and
we can
we will continue on.
Something I wrote that felt good to get out.
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