AROUND THE CORNER

Has it all really ended this way ,so abrupt ,did we ever believe there were proper rules

Starting with a simple path ,looking out ,moving on ,no reasons to fear

Trails & trials, simplest of words bunched into files, merely collecting samples some basic others held as jewels

Wading forward, occasionally stuck in the muck & mire,when slipping in  time,  switch a gear

Why bother to say it if you weren't going to play it ,lessons in hindsight so often overlooked

Final finish came without notice, leaving reversal irrelevant,left with simple knowledge of each day we should revere

Mid life not in crisis but simple evaluation can be revealing,  merely more pages to read in hopefully a longer book

Full circle, 360 degrees what is the comparison for completion,which direction are we supposed to stear

Wink,blink or a nod ,fast & faster is how long time may last ,did we remember to listen to that babbling brook

Unknown with a scent of caution, but not using  true fear to  take another swath

Greatest gorge to minor indent, move forward with strong intent,pure beauty when found  will become quite clear. R.C.

Nine years and still
we cradle our grief
carefully close,
like groceries
in paper bags.

Eventually the milk
will make its way
into the refrigerator;
the canned goods
will find their home
on pantry shelves.

Most things find
their proper place.

Eventually the hummingbirds
will ricochet against scorched air,
their delicate beaks stabbing
like needles into the feeder filled
with red nectar on the back porch.

Eventually our child
will make her way
back to us. Perhaps.

But I’ve heard
that shooting
****** feels
like being
buried under
an avalanche
of cotton *****.

For now it’s another
week, another month,
another trip to Safeway.

We drive home and wonder
why it is always snowing.
Behind a curtain of snow,
brake lights pulse, turning
the color of cotton candy,
dissolving into ghosts.

And with each turn,
the groceries shift
in the seat behind us.
From the spot where
our daughter used to sit,
there is a rustling sound—

a murmur of words
crossed off yet another list,
a language we’ve budgeted
for but cannot afford to hear.

PROTECTING INNOCENCE
From  first wishful whimpers  seeking outside guidance, waiting bedside to ease their journey as they glide

Mindless monitoring ,standing by awaiting ,like a living umbrella that is seeing the rain before it falls

Fondly finding nourishment or just subtle words of encouragement ,your always along for the ride

Upward & outward  growing never really watching where their going, idly we wait at their every beckoning call

Staunchly guarding babbling babes ,blocking bruises ignoring their sly ruses ,taking it all in stride

Bringing them up while also laying them down,waiting to walk until they are taught to crawl

Wonders of the world waiting to crush, sit idly not wanting to rush ,for deepest mysteries they will need a guide

Wishful thinking for the good ,but stuck following from sippy cups to them out drinking,showing the other side of the eight ball

Sparkling imaginations can bring many situations one fleeting another worrying
but still wanting to be the person in which they would confide

So from that first bashful brush is no escaping that deep personal rush ,something was deep set naturally to always protect them & give it your all.R.C.

BREAKING FREE
  Re.......leasing me ,letting go, been holding back for a long long while

Not what has past or what has been built to last but why not now find a reason and let go again

Spending to much time staying far away from things deemed vile or softly coddling others to avoid a  rile

Pleasing me, might just take a moment to allow my self a smile,even if it is to the naysayers chagrin

Wink at me, while I blink at thee ,a little fun while awaiting the time to randomly run off & explore a new mile

Don't misunderstand what it means ,not all that it seems, maybe just taking a few moments out to finally win  

When resolution is left suspended in solution,maybe your still hiding, really isn't your style  

Walking through the mind still leaves an open gate, tiring from the wait, wanting to just take a new spin

A simple jaunt  that once reached the equator might now be a serious trial

Why hold back,no longer leader of the pack,looking to the stars maybe just to far
out of view, just something new, not quite so foreign

So a spin of the compass ,no binding that ties us , Up & out like a bird in the warm wind ,explore a sunset & another moonglow in the twilight . R.C.

FRIENDSHIP SCHOOL  FORMING FOUNDATIONS
Don't need an explanation they always know you like they knew you before

After your journey that has been so long, aren't just shadows at the end of the hall

Often travel in pairs nudging with the extra edge to actually takes those dares

They may be leaning your way or you holding up theirs ,picking up the pieces helping to restore

From an early age we help set the stage ,learning the give & take ,watching out for who really cares

Tested internally, somehow growing more energy to give,learning how to open a new door

Guidance is given while simultaneously taken in, unknown importance playing like a bannister on the long stairs

Bashful helped to be bold while maybe too bold put on hold, to often cushioning the space from our heads to the floor

Practice makes perfect,willing to settle for always rehearsing,helping to block the future demons from their lairs

Lean on me or them ,her or him ,kidding with kindness,giving with mindless love, inward or outward devotion is always from the soul  

Merely matching mates is nice to have the balance at any rate ,the weight isn't as great when split into pairs

So extend a hand give a lift help another to manage that next riff,life will be better when true friendship is the next Goal! ...R.C.

She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave

Took a simple walk today, just a fresh breath maybe a hint of springs first green

Holding back so much ,simple is  to normal, maybe becoming to ingrained

Cool air brushes the hair, wafting across the sleeping roses ,but with spring rains their beauty will be seen

Somehow as I stroll something is calling to go beyond the knoll,maybe that hidden feeling to be unchained

My restless time wanting to roll in a new ambience,left wondering what will be the new scene

Following along,feeling it flow, unsureness  replaced with a new way to flow ,waiting for something to be explained

Looking out ,not back ,no recount, taking trails toward a view that is new & serene

While the willows  breath helps me add footprints on a path,feeling new freedoms can not be restrained

Hidden inside some emotions blind, will the new wind soon intervene

Finally ripples reflect that glassy glow ,sights & sounds coming in, new beauty yet to be tainted

Spring birds flutter ,grass greening like glitter, streams trickling,the scent & sight reflect across the water reminding me mother nature is still Queen. R.C.