An object in motion
Will remain in motion
And today I am glad
Because even hurtling
Through space and time
At dizzying speeds
Through blinding oceans
Of stars and rings of planets
And meteors and comets
(I always seem to dodge
Last second)
Even then
I know that
If I keep
Moving
Forward
I will not
buckle,
        crumble,
                 collapse.

Cloudy today
The weatherman would say
Of me
Of my mind
Clouded haze
Foggy thoughts
Like wading through the humid day
When
It’s supposed to rain
From all accounts
But the clouds
Are huffy
And say
They’ll take the 12%
Chance of a light breeze from the nothwest
Chance of seeing someone you like
Chance of meatballs
For dinner
(for eight hundred, Alex)

It might clear up tomorrow
He’d continue,
Scratching an itch on his neck
Smiling for the cameras
Because there are people watching
Always watching
And they rely
On the weatherman
To predict
To announce
To call

With accuracy

It might
He says again, looking less certain
With every word
It might

It might be sunny, with bright
Wisps of white
Glossing across the cerulean sky
Wouldn’t that be nice?
And a warm
Breeze
And
Who knows?
Really
After all
There must be showers
Before the roses bloom
After all
He repeats
Looking to the left
Stage right
Where the rain
Is not planning to fall
Not yet
Not today
Not yet

And the whole
The whole of it
Whole comedic
Scene is trapped
In limbo
(like the space
Before a bathroom
Where there is no bathroom
Sink
Mirror
Too sheltered to loiter
Too exposed to cry
Which serves no purpose
In the grand scheme)
In my mind

But that’s all there is sometimes
Cloud
Haze
Fog
With the promise
Of sunshine
Tomorrow

(Or just
tomorrow)

She has grown
weary of empty
trusts,
Shallow promises
and broken
dreams.
So she break
other's trusts
and played each
of those who
comes next

-HIY

To surprise mending hearts,
the rain has come.
How they know, its work is done.
Now light-filled hearts were dark; too dark
withered & waiting for the clouds to return.

And like that.
She eased the piece into the groove.
Nestling it close to her lips.
Suddenly her eyes closed,
That horn came to life.
Wide-eyed and bushey tailed.
Stretching it's yawn.
It walked around, journeying to the closest city.
Taking a mid day drive,
Wiping sleep from it's eyes.
It's twelve day noon.
Vocalizing it's croon.
The conflict of working long hours.
Two jobs, a mother of one.
Getting out the bed late.
Trying to remember if she's paid this month's bill or not.
The debate of taking the day off.
Sealed inside it's case.
To sleep the day away.
This weary horn.
With the kid off to school.
She has but a minute.
A loud yawn, the release of stress from a demanding boss.
Every croon loud and long.
A testimony of deep long sigh.
The valves pressed by weary fingers.
A mother of one finds deliverance

sailing down
a sunless sea
downward to
infinity
no stars above
to give me hope
or guide me to
an island shore
with every change of course i make
my destin--y
remai-ns unchang---ed

no escape
from this wilderness
no running from this
empti-ne---ss

...da-da-da-dahh
duh da-da da da dahhh

ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
fa--r
so far be-yond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long time
just take my hand
and you will find...

...da-da-da-dahh
duh da-da da da dahhh

so i turn my ship
into the wind
and fa-ce the tru-th
that i have seen
softly singing
she calls my name
with open arms
i release my pain
and as the sea closes over me
my hea-rt at last finds
ser-en-it---y

... oblivio--n
a broken heart's best frie-nd

ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
fa-r
so far be-yond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long ti-me
just take my hand
and you will find...

... oblivio--n
a broken heart's best fri-end

so i turn my ship
into the wind
embrace the heart of
obli-vi---on...

"hello friend"
she welcomes me within...

so ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
far
so far bey-ond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long time
just take my hand
and you will find...

obli-vi-o---n
obli-vi--o---on
obli-vi-o--n

" i'll be your bro-ken hea-rt's
be-st frien--d... "

.
Pic Poem
http://oi57.tinypic.com/10qb7tz.jpg
.

In the brash brassy light you stand,
shaky, on two feet
like a lethargic elephant

swaying---always swaying
and the light keeps blazing
and your head keeps spinning

You are beyond the point of exhaustion
there is nothing left
no trace of the self that was

If it is time to sleep
Sleep will not come
She is mad at you

you have refused her
for too long- an accident,
really- but normally

she welcomes you back
normally she is happy to
see you, and you float into her arms

not this time

so you keep swaying under that light
until crawling into bed
and the waiting begins

-------------------------------------

While the world sleeps
you turn and turn
worn from the hours
of thinking about anything
but sleep
the comforter brings no comfort
the pillow does not ease the strain
of your neck, the weight of
your head or
of that racing mind

the worst part about being awake
in the middle of the night
is that there is time
to think about all the thoughts
you pushed away before-
they creep up
and turn into waking nightmares
beastly what-ifs and why-didn’t-I’s

the insomniac is most insecure
with nothing to do

during the day you may
busy your tired body with tasks
ignoring the ache of the eyelids,
the pounding of the head

but at night you cannot
make yourself move
a house is sleeping
the world is sleeping
and you have to pretend
that you are as well

so you stare up at the ceiling
(you have memorized the cracks)
or you count and count sheep
(you have reached 100 and back)
and it’s all so pointless
don’t you see?

The Insomniac is fighting a battle
that never ends

a battle that makes you weaker everyday

how long till your body gives out
and will not fight
anymore?

I’ve chosen fight today,
I’ve been choosing fight every single night and day.
I bear the scars now of victories
And the still dripping wounds of defeats.
I’m a fighter now
I fought for me and you.
If I could I’d lay down this spear.
Just to rest for a day or year,
But battles need to be fought.
So I’ll just keep choosing fight instead of flight
Until it’s no longer needed.