Why is my throbbing heart,
present in the present,
but stuck in the past?

there was always going to be something greater than my want
just look at us
i begged my hands and knees ******
still the universe said: don't
so here we aren't

Life is a series of tiring verbs
as I wade through the
ashes of orchids.
I'm a vagabond with
a ragged soul
coming for you *******
a lonesome road.
I float aimless,
like an acorn in
a mountain stream.
The death of dreams smells
like autumn leaves,
lonely as driftwood.

Home is not going to be
a white door at the
end of a sidewalk.
It's bigger and broader,
and can't fit behind a
fence and walls.
It will always be the
sum of my
memories and longings.

Home is walking the streets,
hand in hand,
with our son on my shoulders.
Home is lying in
the grass with your
fingers in my beard, and hope
oozing from your blue eyes.
It's eating sushi and laughing at
our accidental touch of hands,
reaching together for
the last California roll;
avocado safe at
a sun dappled table.

I'm drifting lost on
a southern wind.
When I'm with you again,
wherever that is,
I'll be home.

All I have are the footprints that show where I have been.
Passing natures beauty and all the faces that I have seen.

The empty road ahead seems darker than it ever has before.
My mind whispers to me that it cant do this life much more.

I have seen the things aplenty and I am tired of the view.
My days are filled with replay and there is never any new.

I'm not afraid to end it and it certainly holds little fright.
Yet I see others fighting to survive so to end it cant be right.

A sense of being trapped like a mouse treading upon a wheel.
Just knowing that until the last I breathe that this how I will feel.

Do you know these feelings and the empty lonely days?
To wake upon to the morning to curse the suns new shinning rays?

Like you I know not when or if this today will be my last.
But I wont mourn a life of no future and of only never ending past.

Tired of the expectations of what life compels each and all to do...
And loneliest of all my empty days no one dear to say "I love you".

My life is but a long memory of someone no longer there.
I who have no purpose, destined to vanish as if smoke upon the air.

hiatus hit me hard,
as if my passion was restrained,
at the end i have no gain,
because what i loved to do began to fade away.

Weathering the desert storm
pouring forth sand sharp as glass;
skin torn and muscles cut by countless thorns,
each one a mark left keeping score.
A violently dehydrated form
staggering in search of water’s shore
emerges from the static-
dry eyes sore, could have sworn...
but it was just mirage, playing waves of warmth,
dancing heat eating me like a carnivore,
bleaching bones below the sun to their very core
and yet I will walk until I can’t anymore;
searching for what I adore, knowing Ive seen and felt relieved by rain before,
towing my weight, dragging ever onward toward-
though corpse and carrion I am, the pain I must ignore;
each drop of sweat a loss I can’t afford.