#grizzo
I.
You always knew
the lies I've taught myself to believe
would never be good enough for him
We have the same smile
he is the last angel that can save
me
Love, I have no easy answers for you
I bury questions with every poem
but there is never enough dirt.
The ugliness behind our
pretty faces
burns holes
in the soul
and that's the first poem
I wrote about you that
wish I could burn
because I see myself
in your eyes and I wish
I could disappear from
the mirror
I don't
hate you.
I can't.
I
won't.
II.
my sweet Ollie,
your face looks like mine
you can see it in the eyes
especially when you smile
Have you discovered
children have a way
of noticing things
that are there,
seeing shapes
and shadows
that aren't?
There are monsters in the dark
but do not be afraid
I am there too.
I thought I
past the would,
could, should be
but there are no stars
in the sky and these
gnarled branches
won't give me release
and the future is the same as it always was
some things
cannot be hidden
cannot be undone
cannot be found
cannot be repaired
If I could still believe
in God and say a prayer
I would ask that he would read
these words you can't see yet
whisper them into your ear
so that with every heart beat
you have an answer for why we're
here
and one day
when you read this
know that I loved you
know that I missed you
There is still sunshine longing
to kiss your forehead
Don't sleep
until the day
is yours
and only yours.
My son, trust me
when I tell you,
there is nothing to fear
in the dark.
Fear the Heart.
BG-4/11/17
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 8:42 PM UTC
Being here,
with you there
is killing me
No drink special,
No positive thought,
No drug changes
the fact that a piece
of my life is literally
(figuratively)
missing
The love we shared,
your mother and I,
burned away in the
early morning hours
just like Bukowski said
I didn't understand what he meant
when I heard him say it, but with
every drink I'm starting to understand
how, but not why
And why is why we're here
isn't it?
I never wanted children,
but when I held you for
the first time wrapped
in a blue blanket with the
sun shining through the window
and landing on your untouched
cheeks for the first time
all I wanted was you. All I wanted
was to hold all eight pounds of
you forever in my arms
I never wanted to let you go,
I never wanted to leave,
She told me she would bring
you back and life would be
complete
and so I drove back home,
but knew Home wasn't where
I was going
We would take matching family
pictures, and she would paint
and I would come home from
work with a paycheck the world
promised with a college degree
But that's not what happened.
And I'm sorry for everything,
Bad sons make terrible fathers,
but mine was the best I could
ask for
and I'm still trying to live
up to his standards for you
and it's hard because he
worked and worked
stopped writing,
stopped drinking
for me and it kills me
to think I'll never be like
him, no, it kills me
because I'll never be as close
to being God as he was,
as he is,
as he will be remembered
Alpha, Omega, never
Beta, just a better man
than I am with the strength
to hold a family together
Stronger than my mortal heart,
Stronger than whatever lurks
in the dark
I've fallen prey to my demons
and killed my angels in ways
I hope you'll never learn,
people ask how you're doing
and when the last time I saw
you was and what I wanted to
show and tell you
and my heart breaks, and my life
escapes in timed gasps between my
lips and I can only answer
in blood drips on the floor,
and words fueled by weakness
and insecurity,
and if I could still believe
in God and send a prayer
I would ask that he would read
these words
you can't see yet
and whisper them into your ear,
so that with every heartbeat
you have an answer for why we're
here,
You have an answer for reckless
actions of love fueled by youth
So you can understand that love,
while it may not be always eternal,
still means something long after
the carcass has decayed in the sun
Your mother and I,
were in love once and we
charged the stars like we were
their power source
One day, when you read these words
please don't hate her,
please don't hate me,
We only wanted what was best
for you, and somehow that got
transcribed as you being there
and me being here
with a full glass of
alcohol,
questions,
love
for you.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
Black Chuck Taylor's, with motor
oiled stained laces,
always match
Black V-necks or a shirt of any
color with a Black
zip-up hoody
Blue jeans, stone washed, brand
new, old pair, new style,
always denim
Black matches everything,
looks classy, hard to keep
clean
But when blue and purple,
orange and green,
and some shades of green
and yellow look the same,
Fashion isn't so fun and shopping
becomes an exercise in humility
"Excuse me miss, does this shirt
match this tie?"
"Excuse me sir, but can you tell me
what color shirts I can wear with
these shoes?"
The world doesn't understand.
I don't see the same colors of
the world and I'm clothed
Black
not from depression,
no, not that depression,
a different kind
The kind that's only mine
The kind that can stand by you
and watch a different sunset,
The kind that sees different hues
in A Starry Night,
The kind that would love to paint,
but can't even draw the lines
to color inside of, much less
paint the right colors in the first place
It's crazy to think of seeing the world
through another's eyes
but if we ever figure it out
Hold my spot in line.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
When it's in the air
you'll not know what it
is at first, but once you
smell it once you never
forget
It lingers there as you walk
through it, hanging
in the air as prokaryotic
pill shaped molecules
It always smells different
but the symptoms are
as follows
words stuck in the back
of your throat,
sweaty palms and shortness
of breath
a sense of longingness
juxtaposed
with a sense of fear
An overwhelming need
to communicate all the
new thoughts on your
stone written findings
of what we need to survive
Don't be alarmed, or rush
off to the doctor thinking
"There is something wrong
with me"
We all breathe this in,
multiple times in our lives,
Love's pathogens have a way,
of infiltrating our senses and
controlling our thoughts and
actions like our physical bodies
are more of a third party parasite
to what our souls need
to feed on.
So don't choke on your words,
reach out with dry hands for hers,
the fear will always be there,
because that's love
and this is how we react
when it is in
the air.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
On the other side
of my over
thinking
I’ve come to realize I still have
more questions
than answers
The future feels just the same as
it did ten years ago when my now
was my future
then
Friends are more often
thought about
than visited
when later today turns into tomorrow
and tomorrow turns
into this weekend
and then next weekend
once a month
whenever you can
because time pushes us all into
this strange thing
called Life
and it’s full of all kinds of ********
designed to rob you of
your money
your sanity
your time
but don’t let this discourage you
from greeting tomorrow
with open arms
and a head full of more questions
than answers
The magic doesn’t seem
to happen as often,
but on the days it does
You have a good day at work,
you pay all the monthly bills on time,
your schedule syncs with an old
college friend and you meet for
coffee, or street tacos from a
local food trailer, or you shoot
pool and whiskey at a dive bar
early Saturday evening
and it feels like the old times again,
and you learn the things you did
were your first stumblings into
adulthood and even though they
sometimes change the way you walk
forever, it’s those times you discover
again when you start your third game
and the songs you queued on the jukebox
start playing and now that you can enjoy
the taste of good whiskey more than the
quantity of well, and all the loose fragments
of the memories we carry every day, left open
on the table in a journal with more strikeout
lines than unmolested phrases all become
complete with each corner pocket called
shot, each memory recalled and retold with
language alluding Greek Epics and Shakespearean
Tragedies,
It all starts to make more sense in ways
and stops making sense in others,
and the future is the same as it always was
some things
you can change,
some people
you can keep
some days
turn into weeks,
months, and years
trying to make sense
of what’s coming,
of what’s gone,
of just what, exactly,
we have now.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
I’m hungrier lately, not because I never eat,
no, my usual diet of everything just seems to be
bland,
I’m hungry for words that do more
than echo deep into my eardrums,
I’m hungry for eyes that see more
than literal words on a page,
I’m hungry for fingertips with minds
of their own and empty palms
grown tired of holding air,
I’m hungry for my nose hairs to be
tickled with the forgotten scents of childhood,
I’m hungry for another tongue to touch
mine in search of Truth, or at the very
least a lie
you can love,
So today, I won’t be having the usual,
Give me yesterday’s special,
and do the same for me tomorrow,
that way we have a little bit of time
to let them talk about it,
and they will talk of your cooking
and my hunger until your apron
unties
and I’ve had my fill
of all the extraordinary things
we let eat us, that culminate
into this dish called
Life with a steady helping
of an unknown spice.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
If you're reading this and you can understand what's being said
I'm sorry,
It's too late for you
The World pushed us into each other
because I wanted you to find me
When I started writing, I thought I had
something to say that no one has
said before, but I've recently found out
that not much has changed except
the ways that we hate one another
and even that, hasn't changed much
Stop for a second, remember yourself
as a child, you remember
playing baseball in the backyard
with your brother or
holding your father's hand for the first
time crossing the street
Remember how you thought things
would never change?
Brothers eventually move away,
and now you cross streets without
even looking both ways, with your hands
stuffed into your pockets
Now, you get it, how the World pushes
everyone around until one day
you wake up in an old town
you've lived in for four years
and you think,
When did the World
get so ********* ugly?
Then you realize, it always was,
you just needed one final push
one final departure, one last pitch
for Glory,
to understand that, but not one
good reason for why,
Why?
Because when we grow older,
we get sick of striking out,
and we learn our Fathers were never Gods
just Men wanting one more
home run,
street to cross,
One more chance to prove
that the World doesn't always win,
If you're reading this,
I'm sorry,
It's already too late,
Here comes the ********* ball again,
swing for the fences
Show the world what you can do
with your last chance
I'm waiting for you with open arms
at Home plate
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
I walked out to my car this morning,
and it started right up
My hair, still wet from the shower
is still full and covering my head
I've got new framed pictures to hang,
and clean sheets on the bed
Work was alright, I guess, I don't
hate my job but I hate the idea
that we work for old paper to trade
for bright shiny things that always
seem to lose their glimmer
I've finally got a good woman
in my life who whispers to my heart
and knows what to say to chase
away the dark.
Every kiss on my cheek, every bite
of dinner, every time I feel alone
I reach over and take her hand in mine
and know that the day needs the night.
I have love, health, a paycheck, and the
freedom to drive until the tank is empty
True, there are still things that I want,
but don't need, and things I need
that were taken from me, like my son,
his first words and his first stumblings
in this world
But every day passed is another conquered,
another reason to keep moving
forward
When you've seen as many sunsets and
broken hearts as I have
You are used to the fact that
the sun returns,
love is real,
and life is beautiful.
even on the old, *****
rainy days.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
I'll never go back,
left a trail of gasoline
and dropped a lit match
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
Alarm
goes off,
cup of coffee
Cigarette,
back porch,
before fighting traffic,
Work,
Work, Work
9:30 to 6:30
Dinner,
watch movies
or write poetry
Seems fulfilling enough
I can't complain
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
I guess it's time to reveal the truth,
It's not like I've been lying to you
but I haven't really formally introduced
myself to you, and I've been thinking
It's time to let you in so I can offer
you a cigarette and you can
drink my finest wine while I tell you
that Grizzo is something more
than a childhood nickname that stuck
to the bottom of my shoes like
parking lot gum, or your grandmother's
lipstick on your cheeks, you see
I was quiet, shy, and entering puberty
when people started calling me Grizzo
Some people in high school and college
didn't even know Bryan
Which is funny because I didn't know
myself either but I knew Grizzo
mainly because people expect certain
things and I keep my word
so when I told them I would jump
off the roof, they just stood around
drunk, but not as drunk as me,
No one expects to see Crazy in action
But at least once they do they never
forget the time you jumped off the roof
and hit the ground at 3 in the morning
so hard that your glasses flew off
and the only thing you broke
was your pride, or how you would
always answer everything with **** it"
because if life ***** you might as well
get your nut too
Camel Crush Bold cigarettes in an ashtray
and Jameson on ice with a splash of water
These things can help the words on
late nights or lazy afternoons
Sometimes the best lunch is
a tapped Porter or Stout on special
and putting down a few lines
on crumbled bar room napkins
This is his old habit, this is how
he needs to come out from time to
time
Grizzo isn't all ***** and giggles
though because as much as I want
to be tough, be a hard *** always be right
I'm weak, I'm fragile, and so ******* wrong
about all the things you need to be right
about in life, but I'm turning 29 soon
and I think I'm finally starting to get
why the light needs darkness to shine
why love needs hate to thrive,
why Bryan needs Grizzo to write.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Peace,
Quiet,
Love,
these abstract things that guide
us through our lives,
We all want them in one way
or another,
A steady paycheck,
A backyard,
A soul mate,
those concrete things that justify
our suffering & strife,
We all want them in one way
or another,
We think
Maybe Love will carry us away,
Maybe it will answer our questions,
Maybe happiness is the root of Love
So we keep digging
and we find something different
Or maybe we keep digging
and we never stop
and fool ourselves into thinking
the fruit is the labor, and this is
"What we gotta do"
or we never find what we want
or we find what we need and say
"Whatever."
And then we **** all the happiness
we can from what's found
and we bury it deeper, leaving
what's left for someone else
Meanwhile, the world turns
full of war,
full of noise,
Alone because there's
nothing like it for
millions and millions
of miles
But that's not me,
That's not "Us",
Whatever.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
There's a bluebird in my heart
too,
but unlike
yours
I like to let mine out
from time to time,
I let him spread his wings
I let him sing
his songs to me
& to the world,
My bartenders like him,
he's how I've gotten most
of the ****** into my bed
and he doesn't mind the smoke,
everyone needs a drag
from time to time,
He's the one
who prefers Jameson
and told my tongue
to not drink
much else,
I don't hide him,
But I'm not mad
that you hid yours away
I'm glad you did
because as much as you
inspire me and make me
want to share my songs
with the world,
I'm glad I'm not as angry
as you made yourself out
to be,
I get it, the image
is everything about
what seperates the men
from the boys,
and at this point I think
I'm all grown up
and we're stuck together
with the same fate,
So I let my bluebird sing
Bukowski,
because more than anything
your songs taught me
how to ****
what the world thinks.
And thank you for lying
to me
You old, drunk *******
Because you let your bluebird
fly, you know it
and may the gods bless you
for not even trying.
I love you
************
Just one question,
Are you crying now?
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
Lost
at sea
in the eye of the
Storm
The wind took
me here
pushes me further
away from
shore
away from
Home
I've sent birds
from the
deck
but none
have returned
and now I have
none left
The stars and the moon
are no match
for the clouds,
no silver lines
slice through
on this night
Only mouthfuls
of salt water
and the stink
of dead fish
swept onboard
by wave
after wave
of rouges
The crew wash
overboard while
repairing, raising
the ripped sails,
some swept away
taken by the darkest
blades, and some
cling to what they can
They beg for
relief, seeking a
break,
but I can't control
much, much
less the weather
and I wish they
weren't here because
this ship is going
down
eventually,
and I know my fate
lays at the bottom
of some yet
uncharted waters
and as captain
I have a duty to
stay with
my ship
and save
my crew but,
they stay
with me because
they always have,
always will,
after all,
That's what friends are for
to guide your ship,
repair her sails,
help you find
the way home
while the storm rages,
the winds never
stop,
maybe the birds knew
the journey was a failure
from the start,
and once released
they found a nest like
they should've had all along
and in that
I can't blame them,
I'm still looking
for my Home too,
on a ship of friends
with my broken heart
rudder pushing
forth,
but in a heading
unknown.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Thirty years of monthly
payments for a roof,
garage, and backyard,
The house burns down
the day you pay
it off,
A brand new model,
heated seats, leather
wrapped steering wheel,
more speakers than
you can hear,
pride and joy,
taken from you
by some careless *******
focused on "Me"
not focused on red
lights or stop
signs.
The frame is bent,
airbags deployed,
the insurance
writes you a check
and sends a form
apology with next
month's bill.
The newest clothes
aren't so new,
once they're washed
twice,
but we base our wealth
on fleeting things,
wood, status symbols
and cotton,
We pay ourselves
by saving money
already spent,
and paying old bills
so we can have new ones,
Wealth isn't tied to these
temporary things, easily
replaced by more
work and money
No
Wealth is created,
easily sustained,
by good night kisses,
road trips just because,
and matching shirts
for family pictures,
things that make us
remember how to be
happy,
because we are all temporary,
but our love is
not so easily
replaced.
So even if
you rent, or
you take
the bus
or you have clothes
in your closet for years
The time spent
with people you love
wil always cover
you until the
next paycheck
you've already spent
anyway.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
Too little,
The rabbit,
Bukowski,
counted,
scheduled,
realized
that the clock
is unkind
and fate
unkinder,
In college
I went home
regularly
but the work week
doesn't have winter
or summer break,
and this town
isn't home yet
but it's the closest
thing to it,
Nights like
this I smoke
cigarettes on
my porch,
think about
what being a good son
is,
think about the nights
I didn't show up
for dinner when my dad
got home from his
forty hour weeks,
but it's all the times
I was there that bother
me the most.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
One day, I know
that he will ask
questions,
Children have a way
of noticing things
that are there,
seeing shapes
and shadows
that aren't,
A special talent for noticing
missing things and finding
words to help them understand
what shadows mean
and how the sun shines.
Some children grow up
and ask where the sun
goes when the shadows
grow,
I know
that the silver
lining is a cliché,
but I keep looking at the clouds
expecting a miracle,
but the rain brings
no relief,
only pelts me with reason
after reason to keep writing
to you, even though you'll
never read these words,
I know one day
he will.
The sun always shines,
somewhere,
even on the cloudiest
nights, silver lines slice
through in patches,
and all the shapes
and shadows tell
me that.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
The sun sinks behind your hips,
the moon rises around your shoulder, up
your collar,
through your lips
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
You can’t smell it anymore,
static cuts out the radio,
it’s the new
aftertaste in water.
&
the smell
of someone’s house
you’re visiting for the first time,
Gawking at old buildings,
hearing syllables differ-
ntly, speaking the same,
different, words heard
A new kind of music and the scent
of childhood
You think you could
stay here, escape
You feel your soul
change, and your heart
beats stronger
There is nothing to fear.
There is nothing ***** here.
How the thunder
and lightening
give you a new
but old kind of fear
but the rain washes everything
the same.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 3:15 AM UTC
Glass lights, red star glow
Could this be Purgatory?
All the bars are closed.
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
Hear my words, let them steep into your soul,
Unlock the door, serve them your finest wine
Life is full of strange beauty, this I know
The demon will come, but you will be fine
The angel will come, just never on time
Unlock the door, serve them your finest wine
Life is the time, and living is the crime,
and the beauty in living is simple.
The angel will come, just never on time,
her wicked wings will scare off the sickle,
Simply living is beautiful itself,
and the beauty in living is simple,
easy to do with good wine on the shelf,
I’m at a loss for a better adage,
Simply living is beautiful itself,
This is for those of you who wish to live,
Hear my words, let them steep into your soul
I’m at a loss for a better adage,
Life is full of strange beauty, this I know.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC
I always start
the first draft
on my cell phone,
Poetry flows out
of my thumbs,
Blood pumps
through veins,
as letters
become words,
words become
brok-
en lines
and these lines become,
a piece of me, a piece of
you in ways
Soul whispers
flow
from my heart to
brain,
Memories become lines
both broken
and complete,
stream down my spine
circulate down to my
toes,
back up to my heart
and into
yours.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Foot:
I've had enough
after being put down,
'tis time to raise up
turn things around.
***
I'm well constructed, sturdy
some would say,
I challenge you good sir
Boot away.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
My color a cliche
Once new
Once blue
over aNd over
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
Crystal White Pearl paint,
red racing stripes,
MX-5 traced
on the side
Lightweight aluminum
alloy, seventeen inch
wheels wrapped in
205/45 summer
performance tires,
Limited-
Slip Differential,
rear wheel drive,
Six-speed manual
transmission, weighted
shift **** perfectly
palm-sized
Black sport clutch
bucket seats, seamed
racing red stitching, a clutch
worked with a snap
of the heel, a flick
of the wrist.
Crystal White dash panel,
red racing stripe
MX-5 traced lines
match the stripes outside.
Piano Black
mirrors match
bucket seats
and the cloth
soft top
unfolds on summer days,
spring nights, fall
mornings.
Heaven/
Nirvana/
Happiness
found
now
with a snap of the heel
& flick of the wrist.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC