It was another time
Walking on the large pebbles
Of Beer beach
The long shadows of the
Dry docked boats of the
Local fishermen resting
Until the next morning on
The English Sea
Stretching towards the
Jurassic cliffs that crumble
Signs warning the visitors
Of the probability of
Falling rocks
Cliff pieces

It was another time
A time I almost
Forgot
Until I returned

To my younger self

Take the time out to
Enjoy those precious
Times, people, places.
Make another memory.
You’ll thank yourself in the future.

Take the time out to
Heal those wounds.
Keep moving forwards
Physically and mentally.
You’ll thank yourself in the future.

Take the time out to
Create those stories;
Ones that your future
Generation will re-tell
You’ll be remembered in their future.

Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness—a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.

Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?

Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?

Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?

My family did get lost in an English moor on a dark moonless night. It happened when I was a boy. My mother was driving and seemed to have no idea where we were, or which direction to head. I wondered if we would ever find civilization again. It was a very spooky experience that I drew on for my poem. Keywords/Tags: England, Devon, moor, car, headlamps, headlights, directions, maps, points, routes, strangers, signals, orchard, field, geese, hearts, relationships, parting, separation, divorce, loneliness, alienation, free verse

Met this ***** when I was eleven,
I'm sure I've told you his name is Devon.
Face to face when he was telling me off,
back when all the teachers told me to stop.
Ever since middle school we've been pals,
leaving school smelling quite foul.
Living right down the road from one another,
both of us watching out younger brothers,
In the morning we met at the bus stop,
with the ***** he's about to pop.
Some fools that never learned to treat me right,
holding his phone, recording his fist fight.
Never left his side, never left his side
We got caught up in some relationships,
each & every mistake, brought upon a guilt trip
Pouring out our issues, all became up in smoke
***** after *****, *** after ***
Dropping him off to sleep with your girl bro,
Check if Devon is on your wife's cell phone,
your sheets might smell like my best friends cologne
My disease, makes my heart skip a beat,
talking to you bring me to my feet.
It is funny to think back at that time,
because now were sharing a crystal line,
We have been through so much together
Imagining our lives in the future
You're special, you're strong, loving and kind,
no matter who's there you'll speak your mind.
Think of all the times you've spent without me,
while i'm staring down at my tattooed feet.
Words could never describe how I feel,
maybe you do, I kept it forever real.
Forever finding the right words to tell,
I was the one who catch you when you fell...
There's no such thing as a sunny moment,
due to all the clouds that we have token.
Plenty of things have gone so wrong,
at least we have been through it all alone.
When you pushed me in the Walmart cart,
certainly nothing could drive us apart.
When you call, I will be at your side
especially for all the times we've cried.

"When was the last time I was near you?"

"Years, my dear."

"When was the last time I said I loved you?"

"Years.."

"When did you start believing I stopped?"

"I never did."

"It's hard not to believe in angels when one's sitting next to you, holding your hand."

When I can't sleep
And the darkness won't close in
Hovering ever close
But never touching me

I close my eyes
And think of my fondest memories of you.
Only then am I able
To **** the black into the recesses
Of my mind
And finally
Rest
Peacefully

6,540 miles doesn't seem far
But when I think about you
Inches from you kills me

What it means to be Ignatius.
To fight through fire to get what you desire
To be cast down to burn but always endure
To learn not to cry but to tame the flames
What it means to be Ignatius, is that once the furnace decides to encase, we will smile and do nothing but embrace.

I tried my best, I did my best
Not to fall in love with you
Not to picture our hands intertwined pointing above
Not to think of our lives together that could have been
Not to dream of you laying next to me after a night of love and sin
Not to break down and wish I could start again.
But I guess my best. Couldn't win.