26



There's only 26


I can't wrap my head around it
You're telling me
all I need is 26


That's insane
Absurd

26 letters
laid out in some combination
could lead you back to me

26
Really?
It's that simple?

How many combinations
and therefore how many realities
exist



How many times do I get it right?
How many times do I dot my I's
and cross my T's
enough to lead you back to me

What was this supposed to be
and overused drawn out symphony
write

write until you have an epiphany

26 that's all I need
to let you know what you meant to me
to finally
lead you back to me

26

This must be a lie
I can count that on five hands
provided an extra finger

let that thought linger

26
it can't be
provided our history
the right answer alludes me
it remains a mystery


26




that's all it will take
but I can't let myself make the same mistake
it's time I nix
the search for those elusive



26

I was happy and healthy and then you left me
I tried to move on I tried to do better
but whatever I did I could not
forget your smile or touch
I haven't eaten much
but I will be ok
hopefully

One Day there was A Bee Named Beevis

Beevis was the fastest bee in the garden

He won all the races

And won all the medals

But still Beevis was sad

Because no matter how many races he won
Or how many medals he was awarded

He still couldn’t smell

Because he had a deviated septum

But Beevis was in luck

Because the Bee Grand Prix was soon approaching

And the Prize was a check for $100,000

And Beevis knew it cost $2,435 dollars to repair his septum

He realized he would be rolling in money.
(Figuratively, of course. Not Literally)

That would be wasteful

So he raced

And he won

Because like I said earlier he was the fastest bee

So he went to the doctor with $2,435

And had his septum repaired

As soon as he left the office he was overwhelmed by smells

He was drawn to a patch of roses

Beevis slowly took in each one’s distinct scent

Beevis had no desire to fly fast anymore

He always stopped to smell the roses

And You Should Too

If a tree falls in the forest
and no one hears it
and presumably if the tree fell
it follows that it was dead
if all these things happen
is the tree real?
does it exist?
is it tangible?

let me backtrack
there's a sprout
and it blooms
grows taller
grows branches
and then one day
as you well know
it falls

was it real?

reality is subjective
it makes me wonder
what real is
we are real
in the sense that we, right now, have consciousness
but that's not what I'm worried about
in the grand scheme of things
in the forest that is our universe...

Am I...?

No
I'm talking about a tree
in a forest
not me
in this world
was it real?
tell me
tell me

did it matter?
did any of it matter?
the time lighting took off a slab of bark
the time two birds made love on it
the time a squirrel nestled inside it
the time a leaf fell and smacked a little boy in the face
yes it happened
but was any of it REAL?

These are somber thoughts
they reek of depression
angst
i've put up walls around myself
which are fine to keep out intruders
but it seems I did not give myself the key
what am I hiding?
what do I not want me to know?

Am I...?
I found it
the key
I need to finish the sentence
but I can't imagine the weight of that question
how can I question that of myself
do it
ask

Am I.......
.....
...........
real?
Does any of it matter?
and if some of it does
am I losing sight of those things
have I lost my connection to reality
am I alone
is this all there is?

If I fall in a forest
and no one hears it
and presumably if I fell
it follows that I was dead
if all these things happen
was I real?
did I exist?
Was I tangible?

Three kids sat side by side on an airplane
First was Jerry
he was six and loved coloring books
he loved how he could make anything
any color he desired
next was his sister Lisa
she was 9 and loved the way music sounded
when she put on headphones
and listened to each note
Lastly was Clara
she was 17 and hardened by the world
she loved her brother and her sister
and not much else

I wanted to end this poem sadly
but the family i've imagined is now so real to me
that I must let the plane land

I sit here everyday
people pass, people visit
rarely do they speak when they do
imagine that
two people connected by something
yet they can not find the words to communicate
TALK i want to scream
but i can not

for I am just a bench