Memories come upon one
Like a sneaker wave
Dragging you under
And up into the spin cycle

Many moments
Many names
Many times through memories
Unchanged

The deepest loves
The most painful hurts
Never to be unchained

Emotional visions
Briefly three dimensional
And rushing back out
Into the riptides of
unconscious seas

It gives one pause
To remember
And believe
it really
Happened to me.

your words are pushpins.

pushpins that held my dreams in place
on the wall of lilac lies
that you built around me.

they left termite holes
in the gypsum board
that remind me

of how useless a promise can be.

Standing on this concrete step,
looking at the last light that shines from the sun set.
A fleeting feeling, Adapts into inner revealing.
I am letting go,
This moment,
I catch a glimpse,
this moment I repent.

Regret, a word that holds me like you did.
Embarrassment, caresses me.

I must gather the last bright light from the sun.
Memorize its radiation,
Memorize each spark reflecting validation.
I will take it with me, on the road of self discovery.

To my friends
who can write
fresh-smelling
bouquets of words
with splendid color,
I offer my envy.
Mine are the blunt, stunted words,
rooted in the cracks
in pavement,
or forcing their way
to light around
overbearing rocks.
Some useful
in their own way,
edible or flavorful,
some with a
pedestrian beauty,
but few that one
would bring home in a bunch
with a box of candy.
More appropriate
in a grimy, young fist
crumpled in love,
destined to be vased
in a water glass
by a doting mother,
or shredded petal by petal
for the sake of soothsaying...
he loves me, he loves me not.