MY FAMILY

my family, they come they come, ready to seek to
find; they walk, to see, to hold what's dear; my family
like yours- or any other, they come, still they come
to escape, implore, never to go back, ready to conquer
their fear, while searching for freedom, and in return
they will come if only for a little piece of dignity, with no
choices left, they come  they come wanting only to be
just be; decisions made, uprooted, they come, hand in hand
never to be separated, or left for persecution, still they will come
ready now to find themselves, to find somewhere else, yearn
to be free, words being the barrier, a hope against hope to
look for some place safe,  they come, they come, ready to face
the unknown they come, my family, they come, still they come
searching, willing to experience to assimilate no longer worried
with their burdens buried assuaged from a heavy heart, they come
they come, lost in to the crowds, seen, be heard, to be strong
to carry on- to be just like you and me- live the american dream
have faith in to believe, cries of humanity;  strikes a chord, have
someone accept them, take them in, leave no one left behind, they
will march through the heat, down the side streets, very little food
or water, with an occasional hand out, they will cross rivers deep
the thousands without sleep, still they are strong, with possessions
on their back, little children in tow, they look to the mountain wall
with all memories left behind, they proceed, another obstacle to
overcome, still they move in a wave, a force, to one day- be a model
citizen, made more resilient from struggles to over-come; they will
come my family, still they will come ; my family ready to follow in the footsteps of every emigrant who made the impossible possible

By Michael Perry

MISS CAPE COD (a rewrite)

i still dream of you, even now, as memories become
part of life, we grow apart we come back
its been awhile both of us ready for this, you are
as i remember you, do i look the same? yes i know
i have changed, grown older, still, we are who we are
that has not changed, the world, the environment
that is what has changed us both, i remember
all the good times and some of the bad still we got through
you and i,  i am ready to see you again, ready to
let bygones be bygones, ready to breathe in the air of remorse
-i missed you, let us both not forget though that
we are both complicit;  all is forgiven-for now, you and i
-reconciling our differences for the moment

by Michael Perry

IT WOULD BE SO EASY

it would be           so easy           to  just let go
    
i cant count how many times
i have stood right here, wringing my hands
willing to feel each moment drain away  
as i realize with each time my rope
that i  cling to seems to get shorter as
i lean  on the little bits  of hope left
imagining what would life be like if i just
pushed through, hung around
a little bit longer  it's not a lot - i tell myself still
whenever it gets bad, it could be worse
for whatever its worth it gets me through-for now

by Michael Perry

ALTERNATIVE PERFORMANCE

we pulled into the parking spot
a piece of grass under a halogen light
hanging over head
we were early or just in time to
pop open several cans of beer
to get ready for the times ahead
putting us in the mood, mellow but
not overly so, we made our way
up the stairs to the amphitheater
it was a nice night, soft breezes
sweet sour smells of *** patchouli
and perspiration wafting through the air, as we
made our way to the seats- looking forward
and all around you could feel
the anticipation build as the crowd got
ready to party the night away
the lights went down, the crowd hushed
a spot light pinned, center stage
the performer walked in, the crowd
went wild, building intensity
the performer raised his finger to his mouth
and went, SHHHHHHH- then, it went quiet, hushed
the performer went on, you
looking at all the adoring fans
yes you, are the problem, he howled, raising his
whiskey tinged voice to the rafters
I have had enough, he growled, he continued
I am not going to
give you what you want- he turned
his back to the audience
the beam of light went out, the place was left
in pitch darkness, the crowd went wild
thinking this was part of the performance, because
the performer was known for his antics
the crowd clapped and yelled thinking
there would be  more,  several minutes went by
nothing happened, we sat there, eating
our cheese steaks and drinking more beer, we
were in our own little world- soon out of
nowhere from within the darkness, someone
started singing, one and then more of the performers
songs, not as good as the performer
but still he gave it his best shot, singing a cappella
he sang song after song without stopping
to the enthusiasm of the crowd who
enjoyed the alternative show, without any
theater lights on everyone turned
their cell  phones on making thousands of pinpoints of light
reach and focus- to make everything better,  
enhanced, and in some ways it did, we never
missed the  real thing, we enjoyed the show ad hoc as it were
and gave the anonymous man in the crowd a standing
ovation after he was done, we walked away
satisfied, feeling we got our monies worth.

By Michael Perry

A CHRISTMAS LETTER TO A SON VERY FAR AWAY

My Dearest Son,      
  
as I start writing this letter to you, watching the embers in the fireplace adding a special glow, it's that time of year, the snow has finally begun to fall, the days are getting shorter and colder, i am sure you remember, how are you adjusting to the heat over there ?
still and all, this time of year makes me reminisce; when you were small, eager for Christmas, you remember? the anticipation grew and grew each day as we got closer to Christmas, I can still see the twinkle in your eyes on Christmas morning, my dear son I miss you so much,  wish i could make the year go a little faster, i am sure you do too, the towns the same, nothing ever changes, they paved main street and added a couple more stop lights, you'll get used to it i am sure, dad's already had a couple close calls, but you know him, he never blinks, he never thinks, willful, doing it his way
but I can tell he misses you, he doesn't show it, he worries in silence, that's how he copes, trying to be strong for us both, but i see it in his eyes, eager to know about you, every time we get a letter- and your little brother has done his best, to help around the farm, trying to fill your shoes, he misses you too
the neighbors and friends stop by, all of them wishing you love and Godspeed as they keep you in their prayers, we put up the Christmas tree the other day with ornaments, n' lights , not the Christmas star for the top, that was yours to do, so we left it off this year, no one else will add it except you, although your brother did ask
it breaks my heart; your not here, our first Christmas apart, my wish for you is that God will keep you safe and strong until the day we are together, we put a package in the mail, little reminders of home, for you and your friends
hoping it brings you closer to us in some small way until the day you are back , know you are cherished, we are so proud of you,  not a day goes by, your always in our thoughts, write back soon, when you can- I have to get dinner ready, your place at the table will remain here waiting; until you are once again sitting across from us, we hope and pray real soon.

hugs and kisses xoxo

Love Mom

by Michael Perry

HAIKU POEM  (pandemic fatigue still we must carry on- not give up)



darkness to the light
better days will be here soon
wear a mask for love

by Michael Perry

IT IS THIS TIME OF YEAR

in the bowl
on the table contains
the last of this seasons fruit
laying this way and that
puckered and pruny, they go
uneaten, they wilt in silence
unable to provoke an appetite
in anyone in the house
who happens to walk by, so they
remain unattended, staying put daily
as they bear witness to a souless sun
as it listlessly tries peeking
through the window hoping
to shed some light on a situation
beyond it's control
still it is unable  to withstand
the whole day, it is this
time of year when
the sun fades quickly
seeming in retreat always, as
the stars once again
remind who is in charge

By Michael Perry

DO YOU RECALL

do you recall, a time when
we were satisfied  with being in love; with love
in those moments, so tender
we awoke as one, taken, assured
this was meant to be, love unbreakable; a bond shared
for love was fragile, a token given-one to one
in those moments, the anticipation tantamount
to anything before or since, of this or that, all known
we loved, fully unaware, then a seismic shift
a fissure created from what was to what is- away from
you, me, us, unexplainable, possibly avoidable
who's to say, yet here we are, sanctioned by silence
and the dormancy of years, when now is the time
when we need each other the most, what happened to our love
where did it go?
will it return, will it be too late
how will we know?

by Michael Perry

GOD ARE YOU LISTENING?

God are you listening?
this is a poem (feels more like a prayer)

there is so much pain
people are really hurting

not just these or those
seems to be everywhere

the senseless, all the vitriol
like a match lit, a crying shame

i wish it would get better
still it seems to grow  worse

what do we do
no relief seems to come

so that's why, i am reaching out
do you have the answer to all the suffering

please God, are you listening?

by Michael Perry

SPRING THING

every year it happens, about now
with small bursts of yellow purple
and white, as the crocus, daffodils
and winter aconite shake off the last vestiges
of frozen glaze glistening onto their leaves
letting the buds finally pop open to release
the colors that make it recognizable to even the least
among us, willing to show up early against a backdrop
of still turning green, it is a simple gesture for sure
yet subtle made perfectly clear, in its attempt
that Spring is here, with no further explanation needed
letting each small step lead to the next
breakthrough as it takes place, highlighting
a new beginning over the landscape and before
our eyes showing us what to expect over the coming months

by Michael Perry

FRESH OUT OF IDEAS

i lived on an island
for a year so i could write
each day composing notes

there they sat piled up
collecting dust
until i filled out another

in the morning i would wake
eager to get started
my mind filled with thoughts

i sat in front of a blank screen
just watching my reflection
all the ideas i had were gone

by afternoon i walked to
get fresh air, watch waves
and the seagulls dive bomb

coming back in, grabbed a
beer and fell asleep
out of nowhere a good idea hit me

they say at that point
wake up while the memory is fixed
too bad though im a sound sleeper

by Michael Perry

NO REGRET

there is time and there is place
above the quiet of it all-then, as now
absolve oneself to memories lost
try as they might, like words on a page
to form the familiar;  all the joy the sadness
the mundane, waiting collected, gathered
to this place, to go to in time of need
as one does  in reflection, introspection
to consider, to establish, to determine
if only by chance, to let in, or turn away for good
in this time of why and what will be, to witness
to interpret the past, present and future by the ashes
of the once was, drifting, lifting away, simple now, in quiet
flakes of gray snow swirling, gathering to float upward
into the winds of change, as one individual swept up in the
middle of it all, gathers their thoughts, looks skyward  and
readies themselves once more to continue walking
along the many miles of shore in the name of no regret

By Michael Perry

LIKE A FLOWER SOMETHING MORE

as with anything
that is beautiful; a flower
speaks to us of truth

we accept this
and acknowledge
our shortcomings by it

hidden from view, we like
the flower, have deep within
our roots but to tell a story

reminding us, daily who we are
through our vanity and
deep seeded faults

we unwilling, will grow unattended
while having no care or such
in the value to live and thrive

from these frailties
we as humans have, but do not admit
to a root sytem in chaoes

still, like the flower, there are
choices to be made, continue on a path
that shows growth, or wither and die

so with every season  there will come
a sense of renewal, do we down play our infalibility
hoping to get by or will we strive for something more

by Michael Perry

SITTING ON THE PORCH

we are sitting side by side, in our chairs on the porch
enjoying the late afternoon, sipping sweet tea, cool
and refreshing- it was another hot day, the mosquitos
quit buzzing  once the fans began pushing the air
around it was then, i reached over for her hand, thinking
it the right compliment to end the day, she quickly
slapped my hand away, a sudden rebuff of my gesture
i tried again, and she did the same, i was taken aback
she looked at me as if i were a stranger- then went inside
i suddenly remembered something the doctor had said at one
of her last doctor visits- at some point she will not remember
even who you are, with that the triggers in my brain reacted
anew, as the night of the day took hold and swallowed me up

by Michael Perry

BODY LANGUAGE

we speak,  or we don't speak
we say things with our eyes
we don't mean to hurt but we do every time

will we find us some middle ground for
to settle and just be;  or will we shovel
digging  a hole deep, falling into and down

we shatter to pieces as fragile as glass
we drink from the same cup, thirsty at last
what once was before has yet come to pass

by Michael Perry

TWO OF A KIND

the man is silently sleeping on the overstuffed couch
made out of tough batting, wires and patched fabric
holding the whole thing  together with tape and ingenuity
he loves it , always falling asleep right after dinner
and before the news,  a small glowing fire in the brazier
keeps the small room light and warm, he moves slightly
a little snort escapes from his mouth and nose, as he
shifts in position, his little dog Moose holding court
on a small braided rug in front of the couch, he has
one eye open and one closed from a previous accident
with a mishap with a fallen tree branch, the
man was so upset, as he took Moose to the Vet
they tried but couldn't save the eye, from that
day they were inseparable as the man needs the
dog and the dog needs him to help avoid further
mishaps, right now it's quiet as the man is sleeping
off a couple beers he had earlier, Moose scratches
an itch behind his ear, it's now later in the night
both are fast asleep and dreaming; the man dreams
he wishes he was closer to his family as he misses his
sons and the grandchildren he has never seen, while Moose
dreams of his missing eye and the half views he will never
see again unless he turns his whole head in that direction

by Michael Perry

OLDEST TREE IN THE COUNTRY

there is this story about a tree, in our town
oldest one around, surviving all this time
whether by wind, rain, hurricanes-even
lightening strikes, nothing ever brought it down
it stood tall; as people from out of town would
come and ask, what was worth seeing around here
so we would always point to the tree, it began
drawing crowds large and small, by word of mouth
people would come from far and near, wanting their
pictures taken with the oldest tree in the country
as the time went by the tree became quite famous
notably on the news, or stories in print, all of which
took on a life of its own  gaining all this notoriety-everyone
knew of it-this went on for years, and while at first, us;
the towns folk never noticed it, thought we had taken
care of the tree, we did not pay enough attention; people
had been touching the tree all this time, maybe for
good luck or a reverence for it; who knows, still slowly
it took its toll people even removed pieces from it, making
off with the bark as a souvenir, that's all it took, most
noticeable were the  bald spots along it's trunk, this
invincible tree which stood in our town for hundreds of years
was susceptible to only one thing, that  which finally brought
it down-the smallest of them all, unnoticed by the naked eye
- the final cause of death-a human germ, passed by a single touch

by Michael Perry

EPOLOGUE OF A LOVE STORY

when the lover dies
a piece of the others heart
goes too, as one left behind
mourns, what was there is now gone
the heart is a strong muscle
capable of anchoring and
strengthening at will the vow
of the beloved's life together
thereby even though time
will pass and it will, the heart
never fully heals, it feels the
loss as if missing a limb, it's
there but it isn't -coming to
accept in theory that one half of
of the whole is gone with
nothing ever to replace it

By Michael Perry

SUMMER NIGHTS OUT IN THE COUNTRY

the big fat moon  shines down, in a midnight
souless delight happy with it all, giddy, full of itself
the confidence oozing, filled with, a righteous piety
on a bent, up till then, as a  line of angry looking clouds
give the impression of- an arrogant smile crossing the
moons face, what a touch, this slick character moon, still
with tricks up it sleeve, the winds begin shifting
bringing more change; in cracks of thunder to break the back
as silent streaks of lighting, become alive, hot and murderous
all in  response to what was a previously silent night
brought about, now coming to pass, the modality of change, swift deepening, quick to a sullen nod for nothing breaks the
monotony better than a sudden mood swing from a fickle moon's changing of mind on this hot summer country night

by Michael Perry

TELL ME

tell me, as we get started, i can see by the lines on your face
so full of expression ready to speak for themselves, are you ready to tell me  how you persisted in your pursuit of telling a good story how you sweated through each line hoping to make
the next one better than the last-as you brought your prose to life
tell me how you toiled night after night beneath the glow of a
60 watt bulb-as you struggled till dawn making the words
grow wings having them soar from page to ceiling, as you let each
word take flight, and through it all, it was never enough as you
made your way through, chain-smoking, the whole time until each
blank page was filled one by one, word by word, captured
precisely on every page, as you envisioned, breathing life, you
exhaled in relief, no matter how tired, not stopping, always driven
so tell me - in your pursuit to succeed; sometimes driving you mad
still, knowing the outcome- tell me, through the stress and strain, as you claimed each  small victory, tell me, what you know now, accepting all the failures, does one success out-weigh defeat- tell me when you look back over your life, so tell me was it worth it?

by Michael Perry

SOMETHING TO PROVE

i had something to prove to myself
to you, i wanted to be
upfront, tell you how i really felt
only my words failed, my tongue
scorched;  unable to utter
what needed to be said, at the
moment, it needed to be said, wanting
to take you in my arms and hold you
like i should, the right thing to do, but
i came across cold and cowardly- in that moment
unable to meet your love half way
a moment that should have counted for more
until our eyes met, in that next moment
you kissed my lips tightly knowing they were
alcohol-laced, then you turned and left the room

by Michael Perry

EROS AND APHRODITE

it is for this love we are held captive as passion burns like a flame
we are both seduced with our eyes made eager inviting; unrestrained

let time be our keepsake no moment to spare, stoked by the fire
our bodies lay bare, tethered together in mutual hunger; desire

as two gods we remain, divine is purpose, fierce cravings feed
the lusting demand, some do claim, we alone satiate the others; need

By Michael Perry

DARK CRIMSON

in of itself, the spilled over feelings
-of lives unfulfilled; their willingness
to let innocence fade into, the pavement
on the side walk, or the front steps transom
leading into the light of a door partially opened
it spills, down in to the cracks with
it's dark crimson flow, to seep deep into
the soil whose essence of; becomes part of
the fabric of life itself-in a constant battle
for the daily ebb and flow, no give; only to take
which no one person can name on their own, yet
with blind eyes, we see it all, continuing to unfold
night after night, with a crescendo of anguish
a mother's cry, splitting the night in half- then;  a silent stillness
which bleeds into a red sky dawning, readying us to prepare
for another night of carnage.

By Michael Perry

SUMMER COTTAGE

you gave me your heart, i gave you mine, we took it when
we were both young greedily, wonton, expectant, being carefree
life was ours and now as the years have tolled on, we know nothing lasts forever, in fact it seems to speed up, we see it as
the age gathers around us, in our faces , on our wrinkled hands
mine shakes from time to time, now, through the open window
coming in gold shafts of light, to high-light the bedroom, chests
of draws, pale curtains, a large canopy bed, fill up the space
nothing fancy, our style,  as the air filters through the open window
salty and  pungent as it is want to do around here, i can hear the ocean calling in the distance as we are just a mile from where the bay meets the ocean, we make this trek year after year, to our summer cottage our special place to get away from it all, still as you lay asleep, peaceful i let you slumber on, couldn't bare to wake you this early, although i know you will be disappointed, not to see the sun rise, still, as i watch you sleep your skin reflects translucent against the  white pillow case, offset by your long silver hair, that i   remember was auburn shade you had  for many years, the color of  chestnuts like we used to pick in the fall as they came down covering the yard..still the memories flood, today will be a good day though, i am sure of it, i have an intuition about such things, then, i hear you stirring, and you open your eyes, and we both smile i am done daydreaming for now about what if's, as we get ready to make breakfast  and take our daily walk down to the beach, we are settled on what we have, staying expectant, knowing still, there will be a time that for both of us, will come, knowing there are some things that never will change, if only we could turn back time

by Michael Perry

SEASONAL SEGUE

as with anything, a season is no different
coming to it's end, the august summer heat
subtle, stagnant, mixed with dried hay grass
partially burnt and scattered to the corners  
under a stifling, stillness, ready now, to
leave tendrils of each day more shortened
while the reds and oranges of sunset, begin to
purple like a bruise, the darkness rising, cloaked
ready to take possession of each passing day

by Michael Perry

NO JUDGEMENT

still dulled between the eyes and with the
random anonymousness of it all, coming into
focus there in the shadowed room, a mix of legs and arms
are in a tangle twisted, together their expectations
sated-it is early morning as the light peeks through
from the dark curtains slightly pulled back-to reveal
the golden aura  of anticipation coming to a conclusion
which is a far cry from what remains of the disregard
all the disorder, colliding within having been sustained
throughout from the pulled back sheets bunched
into a knotted pile; or the random lip stick stain left
on the deflated pillow case; ashamed,  while there
on the tacky vinyl table top, sits two glasses, remaining
half full, or keep in mind, the results  of a random
exchange of different denominations agreed upon- for all
is silent save for the soft whisper of breathing, from the
current occupants, then a clock alarm preset goes off
each one retreats to their part of the room to gather up
scattered belongings, to crisscross the room-absolved
of a momentary lapse of guilt once they begin their exit
from the room letting the door slam shut behind, to the
elevator, as the bell rings, doors swing open wide, they
enter and turn to face forward silent still as the doors close
they stare straight, to the last thing their eyes will see is the
customary paper sign, they left on the door handle to the maid
a reminder that the room is ready for her caustic cleaning, for
which the maid will make her customary minimum wage
regardless even so,  it is not her place to  make any judgements
on who comes  and goes, for she only cares if she was  left
a minimal tip for the pleasant stay that was had and to make sure
the  room is put back into place before the next customer arrives

by Michael Perry

THE LAUNDRY PRAYER

she hangs out the laundry
her daily chore
a life lived chaste
happy never bored
on this day, a slight warm breeze
carries the smell
of fresh washed clothes
to far and near
always making her feel proud
while her bones carry a burden
of flesh worked hard
she knows she is worthy
she says her prayers
with her hands without
ever uttering a single word

by Michael Perry

A BLANK PAGE

restless, aware of time, as
it passes, slower then a single
thought to reach my brain-there
a blank page- sits to stare me
down, it threatens to expose my
failure, once more I feel the silence
surround me, taking hold to build like
the darkness outside, it swallows me
whole, still I am unprepared, trying
to avoid  the unavoidable, still, no words
will come I am wordless, having no
rhyme or reason with which to clear
the impasse- while, she in the
other room, sleeps the dreams of
one who's life is uncomplicated, for them
it comes easy they do not struggle, as I do
for them everything is a black or white concept
and in the morning she will rise, refreshed
unaware, I am not there; not to worry,  she thinks
I must be out taking a walk, to clear my head
she knows my routine, as she continues setting
for breakfast-coffee and condiments, assuming
I'll be back, as the minutes click on, she takes
another sip of her warming coffee, and stares
out the window waiting for my eventual return.

By Michael Perry

BREAK APART SCENE

i remember
reaching out, one day, to
your side of the bed, cold, unslept
that morning, the distance
was wide, between us
a chasm, self- created, too hard
to overlook, climb
the sound of silence
remained between us; detached
no code word, to interrupt, or save
for this was happening in real time
between us, a break apart scene

by Michael Perry

A LIFE LIVED

all through life, feel the need, keep your heart full, just dance
make yourself open up to it, take every chance, give in to it all
embrace, as you fall -in love fully, watch for the signs that will
beckon to you- embrace the life given- face it head on- and the
joys of a family extended- it brings, remember throughout it all
there will be pain and joy, you will experience emotions, shedding
a tear or two, along the way, mistakes are made, more than a few
for you are human unable to help yourself -so be ready to make peace
with yourself and when the time comes, for  all the moments you
turned the  other cheek- you did it with a smile, you did your best throughout- and as your life's journey beckons to a close
you will reflect, having  no regrets- just plenty of good memories
                       - of a life lived in full

By Michael Perry

writing in front of a window, my view obscured

in the early morning, it's my time to vibrate
move these words to the page, as if i may, delegate
organize the words, shake them up, give some sense
propagate, try to expand, extract  on what I want to say
it may take  all day, or a short while, still as I
look out into this window, made black by the dark
my view obscured, in a clean slate, I will stare until
the words do come, ideas made plentiful, full- born
out of trials, circumstance, stream of consciousness
and when I look down, , the lines, the fruition, a poem

By Michael Perry

CONFESSIONS OF AN OLD MAN PLANNING WHAT'S NEXT

to see him in the grip of his 62nd year
he is not much to look -at all
salt, pepper spread of hair, lines crisscrossed
everywhere-  a sign of his wear and tear

with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose
he needs to get from here to there, his sight is a goner
if anyone came here right now, they could walk up to him
and be greeted by blind hands going haywire

he's been married several times, he loved each wife
at the time they were married, not sure what they would say
about him if they had a chance to tell their story in heaven
he hopes they would be kind, to outlive them all, such a shame

he's had a good life, lived longer than most, in these parts
he thinks contrition is a long walk to be made, with the time left
and his touch of black lung scar, taking hold, a reminder to reflect
on the tough years he's had, while providing for each wife in turn

he's not sure what happens next, there's no plans for that
so all he can do is sit and wait, and think about
each day, as he stares down death for as long as he can
for he wants to leave this earth on a clean slate

getting up from the chair it's a slow walk taking forever  across
the porch, turning the handle to the front door, realizing it's better
late then never, saying to no one listening, its been a long day for
planning next steps, better yet, he thinks there is always tomorrow

by Michael Perry

NIGHTMARE
        (homage to  Edgar Allan Poe)

looking into eyes made of smoke, asking
you to make ready-with it's breath
of death, telling you to suspend all belief
with it's thin lip speak, on a red-smeared
made to order coming  out of a
bleeding scar of disgust, sharp teeth
forked tongue, licking in-between- and then
the lines blur, as it  continues to spew lies
ready to show you, a world turned
upside down, still, wanting you, only
you to release more of its brethren
out into the world unless somehow you
crack the devil code, and then you look
deep inside a dark tunnel made of mirrored
glass creating splitting images of you staring back
albeit, a  distortional picture, like in a fun house
foretelling what's to come, unless you fight back
and then from out of nowhere a body-less arm
grabs a hold of you, won't let go unless, still  
somehow you wake yourself up from
this nightmare that has truly got you shaken
in a  show of will, you stir yourself from
sleep having eyes stay wide, you fight
with all your might, from the covers in
which you find yourself ensnared, you tremble
with relief, as your heart beats fast, sitting
up straight in bed, into the mirror on your
dresser showing a face you cannot identify
you open your mouth to scream, and nothing
comes out as you hold on, for its not over yet

By Michael Perry

FIRST STEPS

he has a smile, giving in, to sparks of delight
ready to make an impression, as he learns
to walk up right, his little hands, feet pick up
the pace, having no fear, no fuse whenever
he falls down he gets back up making his way
as he shows us how its done, he learns so fast
clapping his hands; a daredevil in the making
i am in love with this little boy, he makes
my heart swell, as i look in his eyes, i see
my son, his father, watching his son as he
takes first steps, we watch together, as i
remember way back when, the joy i felt
as my son took his first steps, now it comes
full circle, amazed at this little boy; my grandson

by Michael Perry

WHAT WE TELL OURSELVES

there are sad things we can accept as fact or shrug it off
as our little voice whispers, depending on which small voice
is talking to you;  so picture this, as you think it through
in a house on a quiet street, lined with fences and trees
is a woman sitting on her barcalounger alone, on this last day
of the year, she is feeling unloved, still it doesn't have to be
as we all make choices daily- that's what we tell ourselves
still she cannot accept the fact of why her?-she ponders this,
with a cigarette glowing through clenched lips, she takes in
a long slow drag as the stifling silence completely surrounds her
all this time; so we surmise, it comes down to guilt of conscience there must be deeper things going on; we cannot get into her head, as she carries this around like an afghan shawl, it's her bitter pill- which she takes daily in a shot glass on a table by her side- steeling herself to cast away ghosts that appear from each year past- and all that it represents, will it be enough as the clocks ticks down, she can see the new year coming into view as she takes in a deep sigh, preparing  for the inevitable, she steady's her nerves for what lays ahead, she has no one else to blame, she accepts this as her norm

by Michael Perry

OUR BEST IS YET TO COME

to love you in this our days
we count, as if every minute- were to stop, all of time
willing to accept, the simplistic, uncomplicated, unbound
feelings we have for each other , two becomes as one  

like the moon sun all the countless stars
evolving around the two of us
we are the center of this, our universe
dark to light flying by, our love evolving, taking a stand

with just a smile, you are
my light, unfazed, never fading, elemental
comforting and warm, ready to guide me
i am  weightless, like air, under your control

we are two souls, who have searched
across the universe, looking for that one
lost until found, then not ready to stop  
as all becomes one, we are together, realized

as you lay your body next to mine, we are unapologetic
i can feel  your heart beating in time with mine, ready to dream
the dream of lovers who ask nothing else of each other
knowing that still up ahead, our best is yet to come

by Michael Perry

I HAD A THOUGHT

i had a thought of you
as you crossed my mind this morning
out of the blue you were there in my mind's eye
as i sat here in the stillness
trying to think of other things
i had to do that day
and you became front and center, a focal point
to my thoughts taking over everything else
in that moment, as i wondered further
do you ever think of me,  do i cross your mind, after all this time?
both us having moved on
as events for both us brought change
still if you were here  now, i think you would agree
the years we had together  were  good ones
but not good enough to last forever
still i wondered aloud what if?
as i continued stirring cream and sugar into my coffee
back and forth, and then out of the corner of my eye
i looked up and there you were standing in the doorway
about to knock, as i stood up
to stand in complete shock

by Michael Perry

THE LETTING GO

as my face is buffeted
by the coarse wind gritty
with needle specks, i am forced to walk on
through it- to it, i am reminded, remembering
the when, why; what I did to you, to us
-with each step taken, I live it will atone for
willing to be blamed- for not being there for you
when you needed me the most
i was nowhere to be found
so if you cannot forgive me
i cannot forgive myself
and with this, i hope to endure, to take away the pain
i caused you, then, and there
i will put my body through all the paces
of self pity and remorse, willing
to take on the relentless
wind body blows, whatever it takes
- until we are released from this burden, satisfied
of the outcome that holds, binds us both
for in that time-the before, after; the letting go
-whichever comes first, a necessity

by Michael Perry

PRISON CONFESSION

i wish it was that easy to wish for something
that seemed to be  out of my reach, all my luck
has run out, while i pushed every limit, every time
i used up all my chances, so here i am,  all alone
an empty vessel of that which made me tick, still
its too late to ask for more time, as  i squandered it all
every single previous minute, i was given, why
would i get a second more, i do not  deserve it
one would agree it was not an easy life, still that
was no excuse for all that i did- maybe if i tried harder
if given the chance, had a little encouragement through
the chain of events and how it would have turned out
different still we will never know, as the curtain begins to
open up, i can feel all the eyes upon me now,  as the
liquid begins to course through my veins, making my
eye lids heavy and through the haze of my minds eye
i can see myself learning to ride a bicycle, i fall off and get
back up, if only i had  learned my lessons, i am sure
my life all the way through would have turned out better

by Michael Perry

NO ORDINARY YEAR

usually a year
comes and goes
without nary a blink
we never recognize
the coming or the going
as it passes into time
still we know this year
will remain in infamy  
for all that we disdain
holding it against itself
we wont even say good bye
we will only say good riddance

by Michael Perry

CHANGE PLACES

i was always envious
wanted all you ever had, unexpectedly
we meet by chance, i was shocked to see
you across the street, holding up a sign
in front of you that said:
"PLEASE HELP I AM HOMELESS AND HUNGRY"
i walked over and put every spare bill
i had on me, into the can you were holding
you did not look up, you just said, "Thankyou"
as i did this  i was thinking, i have heard about
scams like this, and i thought- really ? your doing it
again, and for a moment, i hesitated, wanting to  
take the money back, while i was thinking this you
walked to the next person coming your way, at that
point, i wondered if our places were changed
would your reaction be the same, would you be pleased
with yourself or ashamed of thinking what you thought?

by Michael Perry

WINNING TICKET

He was a poor man
willing to put his last dollar
on the counter to buy
himself a lottery ticket

thinking this might be it
a little piece of paper
that will finally bring him luck  
filling his life full with riches and dreams

in the morning, when he awoke
touching the ticket inside his pocket
he found a morning paper to read the winning
numbers aloud, and nothing matched

feeling sorry for himself until when
as he walked down the street, dejected, he came across
another dollar bill to spend, he thought to himself, this is luck
how can it not be, the next ticket will be a winner for sure  

by Michael Perry

ANTITHESIS

moon
readies
into place, to reign each night  
overseeing, shadows-and light; a days antithesis
of what was- a cycle in contrast, gone for now
I realize, I am
standing still
looking up- what for?
I prefer light over dark, but
for whatever reason, I am drawn to the juxtaposition, mesmerized

by Michael Perry

MELANCHOLY ROAD

first thing in the morning
as the pewter sky changes
just before into the golden sunrise

across the land shivering
under a frost crusted blanket
life is still, dead quiet

between the land and the horizon
lies a half frozen pond, one-eyed
ready to reflect a bashful moon up high

into the stilled darkness being enveloped
comes a mournful cry, animal or bird, there by
a single way that leads out, down melancholy road

by Michael Perry

TIDE POOL

it was the day after, the storm
had barreled through the day before
leaving everything torn and tossed
as the sun was beginning to shine- little peeks
here and there, the sea had claimed victory
with such a furious power that it tore down the
jetty we all used to fish upon, it was now
a series of jagged rocks here and there like, marbles
thrown on a carpet mat, we are used to storms coming
from the sea, but this one rattled nerves, as i walked on
the length of the shore, as most locals would do
have done, with previous other storms, milling about
looking for something they could cook up for that nights meal
- i kept going on, soon i looked back, checking
my progress, everyone else was now scattered like
little dots, unrecognizable as people now, at this point
the air was cold and wet, as it bit into me- i should have
dressed warmer but i didn't think about it at the time
looking down at my feet, my shoes soggy with dampness
i came upon a small eddy of water far from where the incoming tide
was barely meeting the sand at this point, i gazed into the
small pool to see it teeming with life- the little creatures waiting
for the tide to come in and take them back to the relative safety
of the sea before any dangers could claim them- overhead, i heard
seagulls cawing squawking, making a lot of noise, they saw this little pool
of water as well, biding their time, making circles in the gray skies above
i looked back down at the small pool telling myself, not on my watch
so i planted myself into the soft, dank sand making my legs go
crossed legged to wait it out in the gloaming dusk for the tides eventual return

by Michael Perry

INTO THE WINDOW

into the window, it comes flooding past- the
reminiscences, to take up- or fill in the empty
spaces once occupied by us, now caught by
the moon of half light readying to pause right
there on the floor board, leaving only a  chill bone
of breath, stale, silent, unanswered; you and I -we
were two lovers brought down by the flux of not
meant to be, we slipped away like the memory lost to
time as reflected by the faded wallpaper or to the bed we
shared, while on the wall opposite hangs the mirror hiding the ghosts
of what could have been, staring back from within the recess of oval

by Michael Perry

IN DAYS

Day One
for a moment.
by pause, a fog.
laden, having no memory.
lost, in itself, to forsaking.
the life of the living, ignored.

Day Two
from out of nowhere, the sound.
of thunder, listening to the beat.
as a life bringer, first a memento.
to gather, to mourn, to implore.
on its own, choices are made, each one.
ready for sacrifice to a higher god.

Day Three
in the middle, of nowhere, as everywhere.
they uprooted pass by footsteps come, ready.
a sound, by higher, in loud, I, to overwelming.
by an unknown, bewildered one, a jouney to, we.
accepting, choose, this, the context, if, of what will be.
             you, blink ready- now, to understand.

by Michael Perry

HEADY DAYS

back in the day
I could hold my liquor
better than most, feeling good
with no price to pay
steady as a rock, I would be
whoever each time, playing a role
no consequence no rules, feeling invincible
living out  my heady days of youth
most days now, you will find me
sitting in the park, alone; talking to the pigeons
as they gather at my feet, while I
drink out of a disheveled paper bag
these days I collect spare change that falls
falls from stangers hands, or the occasional
quarter I will find on the ground- oh yea,  heady days
of youth- what of it, don't miss -what I can't recall

By Michael Perry

COMES A FLOWER

out of the jagged lines
molded into the aged  pavement's
upheaval; the ugliness will
thrive; surrounded by broken glass
and debris scattered, comes a flower
struggling to break through, to survive
as it seeks the sun-for in it's
weakened state, the slight leaves
make a vain attempt to find it's
place in all the blight and excess

By Michael Perry

REMEMBERING J

why is it that the good die young
we got the word today, she passed
she had only been sick for a couple months
she was vibrant and full of life
could light up a room, with her
hearty laugh and joyful soul, she
never complained about
the death sentence, she was given she
never said, why me, she accepted fate
and moved on with the time she
had left, no time to waste, what if the
doctors were wrong, and she had less time
a reason to keep moving, not sit still
to never be idle from this point, she understood
and accepted in stoic silence, while the rest
of us wallowed in her shadow, so again i ask
why her, i don't understand, i will never understand
so many good ones taken away before their time
why? Heaven is full of angels already, there is
no need for another one, she needed more
time, and life needed a little more time with her

By Michael Perry