My buddy the quarterback said to go long
music to my ears the chorus of my song
I could easily outrun all the puny secondary –
the guys from one block over on wealthy Dewberry.
We were all better at football on Lillian Street  
beating the crap out of those guys was oh so sweet.

Now mulling my interests, passions and such
I wonder why I love football so much
what with a life of writing, thinking and teaching
my football mania seems a tad overreaching
but still my arm flexes watching that heaver
connect in a perfect arch with his swift receiver.

Being Cajun in Texas where sports are king
probably explains something of why I’m so keen
and my pulse quickens as I remember
the neighbor boys’ shouts and calls in September
to meet them in our favorite autumn spot
down the street in that vacant lot.

Most of my life I’ve gone for short passes
connected with ideas and English classes
no novel for me, I fell for poetry
nor did I brave the rigor of a PhD.
Now finally, with my scores of years its not so wrong
to watch, leave it alone, wait a while, and go long.

I am constantly
Running from myself
But I am running out of places to go
If I lose myself
I'll lose it all
Everything

Thinking about a past lover
isn’t exactly the healthiest outlet
But it makes getting over you
a lot easier, I’ve got to admit.
I saw myself in you
I guess we’re more alike
than I ever knew.
World class pieces of ****,
Who don’t know when to shut the
**** up or quit.
I’m done recycling my hate.
I’m done with my Freudian fate.
I need to rise from these ashes.
Can’t set myself up for any back lashes.
I’ve never felt more self aware,
now all I gotta do is get up and out of here.
I think I’ve discovered my worse fears.
Mamas boys, becoming my mother.
No longer scared of getting beat on by my brothers.
All I gotta do know is stop thinking about my past lover.
Mind my business
Maybe go for a ride on my flying nimbus
I’d bring you along but your heart isn’t pure
Don’t come running back to me like I’m the cure
I’m sorry but your going to have to work it out on your own..
I’ve got my own demons to silence in this egg shaped dome.

The concrete drum
beats two steps;
their sound signals
dear freedom

The cricket hum
drowns the day
and instills a
tranquil numb

The bare breeze
strums leaves and all
and breaks the heat
in welcome

The tonic sum
a blessed song;
allowing one
to triumph

It's a race.
We are all running in it.
But no one wins.
Unless they cheat.
Some people get lost on the way.
I am running.
Close to first.
But all I see is them laughing at me.
So I am crying out at them.
They won't stop.
They cheated.
So I am running still.
But it hurts.
I am trying so hard.
So I am running.
In the game of life.

When my thoughts are too heavy,
My feelings - too numb,
When my heart is unsteady,
And the tears start to come,

I put on my running shoes.
Tonight I can't hide.
I pace myself, breathing,
Letting go with every stride.

The melody of my footsteps,
The rhythm of my breaths,
Have synchronized into nothing;
A calm stillness inside my head.

I'm light  as a feather.
I let myself fly.
The world is a blur, but tonight,
... I'm alive.

he's always in a hurry
terrified to die
he wants to be everywhere in the shortest amount of time
the eyes always on his watch


                       tick tack - tick tack


never sitting still
always in motion
not stopping, not breathing
his life is running out of time