I

In eras weird with old mythology,
As if asleep the fabled country lay:
Her wave-like hills and faerie forests dense,
Her thorny brambles budding curling claws,
And ivy circling all the woodsey way --
The far swan's cry came soft and woke them not.
Forlorn, that selfsame call upon the gates
Did break; those gates of Britain's long-lost keep.
She too slept fast, the weary weathered stones
Of fairest Caerleon. O pulsing stream,
Thou vein of life in woods a-slumber, Usk!
Alone are you in knowing castle's face,
From years of timeless burbling at her feet.
What tales are told by water over stone?
What lark or wren can sing of sadness come?
Aye, answers are the beach-wet sand, yet hark!
Rejoicings spilled, proud hails, from Caerleon:
They cheered the ****-frost's melting with the Spring;
The holy Gwyl Fair y Canhwyllau
Had come at last, in foliage of dawn.

Within, their goblets sailed, wassailed, and crashed
Like growling Jove, their boasts and toasts like wine --
They drank it spiced and over-strong. Indeed,
Some stretched exaggerations: 'twas Sir Bors,
That spotless sheet, who tried to contradict.
He quoted purifying texts and spurned
The wine that nature raised and crafted sweet.
Yet "Loosen up!" uproared the host to him.
"The time has come to celebrate," said Kay,
Beloved knight, step-brother to the King,
"Aloft thy wine, below thy gills! Drink! Laugh!
Your stomach is a falsehood-spewing fool,
It must be drowned for you to feel a lord.
I speak a sooth, you need wine's fleeting bliss!
Know thee that man's tomorrows bleed him dry:
A wade through death and depths as sure as pain
That shall tomorrow light your brow. Laugh! Drink!"
Bold cheering spread with Kay's advice, though yet
To no surprise Bors turned aside the drink,
Unblemished bore, so celebrates alone.
Weep not for him, for soon he'll find a cup
More suited to his strange of chaste and grace.
And none to waste: his share was drunk by all.

Engaged in feast Owain ap Urien,
Engaged in tale now Bedwyr and Kay,
And Lancelot made eyes at Gwenevere.
It was a feast of great success and joy
As fitting of the season's robust gleam,
Yet two there were with shallow-rooted smiles.
Prince Mordred one, though ever-somber he:
Accursed spawn with bone in place of heart
And dreaded incantations for his blood;
His brooding perched like crow on him. Alas:
The other joy-bled man had beard aflame,
A bear-skin drape, and crystal eyes, the Lord
He was of Caerleon and Mordred both.
'Twas not the gleam in lover's gaze that vexed
Though it was seen; he had no heart in him
To chain his Queen as if in dungeon steel,
For Arthur lived believing to be fair
Was paramount, to even paramour.
It wreaked its toll, yet caused small grief this day.
Not even serpent son gave cause to mourn
That greater was than missing nephew's spot
Among the feast. His chair was naked bare
Returned though he should be from faerie quest.
At Calan Gaeaf they expected him
When winter storms had racked their shoddy hall,
Yet since, the months had rolled to Gwyl Fair
The milder season come, but not his kin.
The image of his maiméd corpse did taunt
And haunt the agéd mind of Arthur, King,
His phantom nephew slain anon by knight
That of no flesh was made. In year that died
This green-mailed knight arrived a guest and called
Infernal challenge. Trick it seemed to them
And trick it was, for subsequent the blow,
This seaweed knight did lift his severed head
And from dead lips he cried "Well struck! Now come,
Fulfill me of my game. The year to come
Shall see thee in my home, and as agreed
My turn 'twil be to answer with my axe."

So rapt in recollecting, Arthur missed
The growing clamor that beset his hall.
His ******* cleared the grief from him with taunt,
To bring him into grief. "What say thee, Dad,"
Dripped venom from his mouth, "No love for us?
Your hail we called, but disapprove your eyes.
Methinks that far away thou seest a dream
That visits oft the elderly: a place
Thou knewst when in thy prime, with love
Now filled to burst. Yet fear us not, away!
To land of youth far more beloved than we
Whose happiness with thine own heart is twined."
"My fellow, soft!" the King began, distressed,
Yet Lancelot rose to his feet and spake
"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face!
Thou palest hide, thou Mordred, sit thee down!
This sniveling craven knight should be replaced."
A sounding of the table met his speech,
Again was hailed his toast, and Arthur glad,
Though burdened to his breaking point, and sad.

"Blackguard is he who mocks our Lord to face,"
Had spake his bravest champion and friend
With no regard to Blackguard wrapped in stealth.
See how his roughspun fingers coil in hers
And how some sweetened whisper 'scapes her lips?
The beams of color-stainéd light slip down
To play upon their blissful sin almost
As if King Arthur's King approved on high.
Sovereignty is ruthless, Arthur thought,
Well-wishings of my God grow ever-faint.
I must believe in good though I am ill,
Just as I find my countrymen displeased
Though I did calculate my every breath
To see that it did stand with God's own will
To help my common people from their murk.
I fear I am not what I wished to be,
And now my only solace peaceful death.
If up to me, I'd wish it in my bed.

What horn's blare? Hark! King Arthur roused from thought.
Court gatekeeper Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr,
Dressed plain in brown, took down the horn from lips
And loud as elk called to the hall "Have cheer!
Sirs, drink another beer and wreath your brow
With springtime blooms, for lost knight fair is found!"
Old Arthur trusted not his feeble ears,
But came a hush and Lancelot confirmed:
"What **," he boomed, "our brother has returned!
'Tis grey Gawaine, aye, Gwalchmai! Drink his hail!"
The uproar was enourmous: "Gwalchmai! Cheers!"
Was like to wake the sleeping wilderness
That hung suspended in the myth and mist.

II

Astonishment had come like breaking wave
Upon the thirsty sands of monarch's face
So long consigned to reap the low-tide's grief.
When Arthur's ursine hand clenched round his cup
And hailed his nephew's presence with a roar
Long lost to hibernation's hoary spell,
The hearts that beat in armor under him
Did swell to find their lord with cheer at last;
The toast they drank so hearty as to give
Sweet Dionysus pause against excess.
Though only two there were who did not drink,
And one of these were Bors, a sadness fell
Once more as tangible as any wrong
That chose to haunt a hall. 'Twas Gwalchmai grey,
The conqueror now home from quest to rest
Who would not lift his eyes to meet the King's.

"Has cheer so fled from you? Your life remains!
What black has inked you in?" the King did ask,
And silence overtook the hall to hear.
How strongly then did Gwalchmai wish to leave,
To blend once more his form to root or branch
Or soaring river. Wind, the songbird's muse,
Had been his fast companion on the road,
For known to him were many things. He was,
They say, some god that stalked the minds of man
In young enchanted places of the world
Though all his magic helped him not at court:
His shyness was a leaf obscured by rain.
Yet even gods of silence know to speak
When words of pain encircle heavy hearts.
He let them fly, birds in the sky, he said
"I failed. My quest was long and arduous,
The seasons changed while I in heather lost,
The moon its phases shed as fen-frogs called,
I floated through the endless cloying mist
That flows, a ghostly sea wrapped round our isle.
The path had nearly drowned me when I found
The chapel green enough to spell my doom.
When entered I, methought "It cannot be!"
So kind and courteous a host met me
That would have been disgrace to call him green.
He feasted me, and warmed my wounded bones,
Yet I betrayed him in the end; I failed.
I stayed his guest, and friend, and swore to him
That for his hospitality I'd share
Each thing I won while underneath his roof.
And all was well -- I'd rest, he'd hunt -- until
His wife played hearts with me. I did refuse,
But by her final trick was tempted and --
So lost all knightly honor and renoun.
Her lusts I spurned three times, but on the third
She offered me that which my heart desired,
Instead of love she begged me take her boon:
A silken girdle sewn with charms, and green,
Deceit I should have seen. She said the spells
Would keep me safe from harm and spare my life...
When on my rugged journey all I'd feared
Was twisting face of death that loomed so near.
I could not help myself, it seemed so tame,
Yet when the time had come I could not share
That gift, or else expose the husband's wife.
Beneath my armor tied when left that place,
My secret wore me down upon the bog.
It seemed the mist grew thicker, wind grew swift,
I now know under spell was I, but then
It seemed some vengence coming to a head.
My tale grows long, and past the point am I.
The Green Knight and my host were one in fraud:
An airy insect's dream. His "wife," a witch,
Had formed him out of acrid moorland soil:
Homunculus to carry out her scheme.
The blow he owed me carried little force,
Though still this scratch is plain upon my nape.
And so you see my folly plain as oak:
For though I kept the life I feared to lose
My lie grows in me like a cancer bloom
That in the span of time shall **** me sure.
I failed; I'm gone; to revelry return."
The silence, vast again, gripped all the knights
And king too dry to cry, who drowned his heart.

III

"Is there some madness come to roost herein?
Thy folly is ridiculous," said Kay.
"I valued mine own life past honor's flame,
A sin of selfishness, and blame, and wrong.
What of the world, if all would act as such?"
A weeping noise he made, but choked it back
And turned to leave in shame, and might have done
Had not the stout Sir Kay gripped Gwalchmai's arm.
He raised it in the air and shouted thus:
"Percieve our stunning champion stands nigh!
Though of a frail ennobled heart, we know
Thou art absolved. This trinket given free
To aid in quest I wager was for thee.
And as for sacred broken vows, this man --
You said yourself -- was conjured from a bug.
You owe him no alleigance Gwalchmai, sit!
This serious you need to be for wine:
Come sit with brothers now! We drink to thee!"
"Dispel the failure all you can, it stays
As weighty on my brain. It was a sign
To signify the kind of soul I am,
To me it showed my grimy ills and plain
Did tell my shaping, shape, and shape-to-be."
King Arthur to this nephew spake: "My child,
Is there no antidote to questing's woes?
What has become of jousts and silver swords?"
The anguish in the old man's eyes so keen
To those who knew him. Gwalchmai did reply
"Your majesty, there's not a grief can ****
My bird-like love of questing through the trees,
For only questing can redeem my shape."
"Then let us have this quest!" cried Kay beside
Him at the table, deep in drink he swore.
"Come with me, brother-knight, to clear thy mood!
You do you wrong blaspheming at yourself."
The wine was quaffed by Gwalchmai, yet he said
"I first shall stay, I need to rest my ills."
"Your ills are that which keep you ill, good knight.
I bid you come and we shall quest as birds
Who savor springtime berries in the mist."
"I shall not go, I seek my quietude."
"In sunlight you and I must bask. Comply,
Or else I challenge you by burnished blade."
All eyes on Gwalchmai, under pressure cracked
Into a grin and downed his kykeon.
"In stubborness persisting, Kay, you've won,
A river such as I could not keep stead
Against a boulder. When shall we away?
When come the summer blossoms, fair and red?
Or else not til the saps have lost their leaves?
Departure yours to choose, my brother-knight."
Kay beat upon the table and their ears
When called triumphantly "This very day,
This very hour! To help those who need aid
On holy days shall surely fix your heart.
No time to wallow in the swamp that's gone,
We now away, to break our swords with day!"
"You mock me or you heard me not, Sir Kay,
I wish not to away, I wish to rest!"
The fairest Guenevere, like silver bells,
Chimed in "You must forgive your heart's despair,
Or emanations of its guilt will plague
Your mind. I have a lunar garden if
You wish to sit in soothing calm and think."
"My queen is holy," Gwalchmai spoke in grace,
But Kay had cut him off with "Hear her not!
She will ensorce your mind to not explore,
To sit and think and mold with lunacy;
Beneath the sun we'll tred. It's known on quests
I favor Bedwyr, 'tis true, yet you
My fairest Gwalchmai, keep your wits -- and arms --
Two things in need of we shall be.
I mean you no offense, dear Bedwyr,
But I and Gwalchmai share a severed soul
And shall succeed; two sides of selfsame coin.
So come my cousin grey, to right our wrongs
We must away, to break our swords and say
'My heart is glad I did not stay at home!'
Consume your drink! We go," he trumpet-called.
Thus Gwalchmai was convinced, and so was forced
To nod politely to his Queen and stand,
Declaring to the court "I shall away,
This gloomy mood is dried beneath the sun
Though dearly do I wish some lunar grace
To lose myself in mysteries anew.
To bear this flesh is weighty, yet I've found
The strain to be rewarding in its way.
Think nothing of my former woes, they've passed
Like summer storm or wisp of misty cloud."
The hall at large did drink his hail, and then
Did thrice more drink for quest to which they went.
And Mordred scowled and drank the foulest wine
For his monsoon and fog would last his life.

So summoned then Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr
To hearken unto birds, as was his gift.
He said to all, "I shall now call my friends
And see what worthy tales of quests they bring!"
"There may be naught on Gwyl Fair," said Bors,
"A holy day, all wove with peace. Nor Gods
Nor men would stir their strife this day of days."
"We all shall see," the gatekeeper replied.
Beside his King upon the dais came
And played a serenade upon his horn
That rang throughout the keep and lands beyond.
A time did pass with no response recieved --
Slain silent was the raptness of the court --
But then through open pain in stainéd glass
A thrush did bob and weave in melody,
On finger of the Queen he briefly perched
Before he flit away upon the air.
His song so sweet, but then - what fright! No more!
A hawk had entered, just the same, and swooped,
And now the thrush was silent in his claws.
The cabinet of augers all took note
And sketched their calculations into books,
Though none, in this, more wise than Gafaelfawr
To whom the hawk said "Hail, you man of rank
Who speaks the tongue of wing-in-air. Now hark!
'Twas not in hunger slew this thrush, but fear
That what I have to tell might go unheard.
My family, we roost near Cornwall's sea
And late, the noises off the coast grew strange
As if some evil kraken raged at love.
My chicks; my wife and I; we're simple hawks.
We eat and some of us are eaten, yet
Beware the thing that slouched from out the waves.
His shape is something like a boar, but huge,
He dwarfs his kin, and hill, and oak,
This hall is large, yet he'd be stuck inside.
He does not eat what he has killed, instead
He smears the bloodied flesh on stones and trees,
What man could face a fear that bears this face?
If you could hear the rutting squeals he makes!
I swear this sooth by wind and waving plumes:
You men who craft with metal, hark!
Destroy the beast!" And then he flew away
Still calling after him "Destroy the beast!"

The court at large had heard the warbling hawk
But did not know the tongue, so only watched
Glewlwyd's unease upon his face
Until with stiff and rasping voice relayed
The content of the predatory news.
Unease began to show among the knights,
For many there recalled a beast so shaped
And all the blood and guile he took to drown
The first time. Arthur, grim, forbade Sir Kay
And Gwalchmai face these perils by themselves,
But recommended regiment of steel
To bolster ranks against the fearsome boar.
"I know this foe from days of old," he said,
His years of rule etched rough across his face,
"And so do most of you, though many gone
And this monstrosity not even slain."
But Gwalchmai said "'Twas hard indeed to win
Those relics that he bore. Remember I
That Trwyth was the name he chose, and we
Shall best him fair. Though not for trinkets now,
But with the zeal of mother guarding young:
This foe, Twrch Trwyth shall not raze the land
Nor wage a war against some peaceful ilk
While rounded table can beco

Is to be told all the ways you don't matter
It is to be angry and afraid
It is to watch people walk on the opposite side of the street to avoid you
It is to be told to get over slavery
It is to be told that I'm not racist I have black friends
It is to be told the definition of racism like you don't already know
It is to be told hey what about reverse racism
It is to have a white terrorist group dedicated to your elimination
It is to be more worried about threats in your own country and those abroad
It is to wonder daily if your family will be safe, if they will get to come home
It is to called a **** for speaking out against the hate
It is to be called lazy when you work full time to provide for your family
It is to walk past folks and watch as the clench their purse or pockets
It is to be to have people fear you, when you feel more threatened then they ever could
It is to be told that privilege doesn't exist
It is to be told you are equal, except you know that in the courtroom, in the eyes of the law, the job market, the housing market, in the classroom, it is a ****** lie
It is to be live in a world where 1 in 3 black men are in prison
It is to know that they have sentences longer than white counterparts
It is to know they use prison labor to exploit them, slavery living on
It is to know that the police which are a relief for some, are a nightmare for you
It is to know that you can do everything right and be killed by someone sworn to protect you
It is to know that you will be blamed for your death inspite of this
It is to have the life choked out of you and a man telling you, **** your breathe
It is to hear what about black on black crime, even though every race commuts crime against their own kind the most
It is to remember white flight and the repercussions of it
It is to have family who have seen the bloodiness of the covil rights movement
It is to be taught in school how great this country is while ignoring the evil its done
It is to be taught in school how little you meant
It is to wake up every 2 weeks to another hashtag of some poor black fella to be forgot in a week
It is to want to simply be acknowledged that things arent right, and being ignored to this day
It is to be villianized in the media
It is to see that flag everyone holds dear and remember that pain it caused you
It is to fight and die for a country that still doesn't care about you
It is to be told to go back to Africa as if this wasnt stolen land
It is to be told I dont see you as black, you're just the same to me
It is to be told well you don't count as black, you don't act black
It is to have your culture stolen
It is to have value placed on your mysic and style and not your skin
It is to hear what would MLK think about these protest
It is to remember that people celebrated his assassination
It is to remember the slurs and the hate he recieved
It is to have people know they don't want to be treated the way you are
It is to want whats always been denied, the privilege of walking in your own skin without fear of persecution
It is to see family, friends and peers celebrate and share racist ideas and beleifs
It is being reassured they still value you
It is to know but not enough to matter

Being black in America is a lot of things, and I love the country all the same.

But I hope and pray for the day, that we can be treated the same.

There are only two ways to truly know someone: sleep with them or take them bowling.
Phoenix Aime was the woman of my dreams. So, I took her bowling.

Paid for a game. Rented shoes. Got the little, sticky bracelet thingy that said Slippery Joe Lanes.
That way if we got in some sort of accident on the way home,
the guy at the morgue could identify us as bowlers. Anyway, here's the bulleted list of what I knew about Phoenix up to that point:

• She looked like Diane Keaton circa 1972
• She talked with great pretension concerning craft beer
• She only patronized two restaurants: Denny's and IHOP
• She was eight years older than me
• She kissed my sister once on a dare
• Her shoe size was 7
• She was perfect or a near synonym

The bowling alley was empty save a World War II vet in a wheelchair and his wife at lane six,
and they were barely there. Country music played over the loud speaker. And I felt cozy. Predictable. Like a payment plan on the QVC.

That was until Phoenix said, "I forgot something. I'm going to go talk to Mack real quick."
Mack worked the front desk, according to his name tag. Talk to Mack. She just talked to Mack. Mack was sleeping with her. I untied my shoelaces. Oh, Mack, love your red polo with blue tiger stripes.
I pulled my sneakers off. Oh, Mack, I love it when you dip your finger in nacho cheese and feed it to me. Slid my right foot into bowling shoe. Halfway in with the left, and my socked foot struck something plastic. A stick of tiny deodorant. Like unsavory truck-stop-to-truck-stop deodorant. Oh, Mack, I love it when you deodorize -- so hard. Pull the strings tight on the left shoe. Oh, Mack, rub the deodorant until your underarms are SO CHALKY AND WHITE.

"You okay?" Phoenix asked.

"Yeah, what do I look like something's wrong?"

She carried a seafoam green bowling ball with a ****** Mary insignia. "It looks like you triple-knotted your shoes there."

And I said something dumb like, better safe than sorry.

"Sorry about leaving you all alone. Mack holds onto my ***** for me," she said.  I bet he does. "I hate talking to that guy." What? "He's a vegan."

Now, at that time in my life, I was a vegan. And had planned some stirring remarks about the processing of sweet little piggies into cancerous hot dog machines on the way to pick her up. Thought she would think me full of passion, "on fire" for a cause, you know? The wise thing would have been to say, oh well, I'm a vegan. But instead I asked, "What do you mean?"

"You know serial killer's get a last meal before they're executed, right?"

"Right." Where the hell is this going?

"Well, have you ever heard of someone on death row requesting a last meal that didn't involve some sort of animal product? Gacy had buckets of chicken, Bundy had a medium rare steak, even uh, ****, what was his name, McVeigh, Timothy McVeigh he had two pints of mint chocolate ice cream. Dairy."

"I'm not sure how this refutes veganism."

"Nobody is a vegan for their last meal. Nobody. I'm not going to subscribe to a diet that I can't follow until the very end. Live every day like your last, that's my motto."

"That's your motto." I said. To be a great listener, just repeat the last three or four things anyone says to you and raise your eyebrows a little bit. (Examples: "My dog died." -- "You're dog died.", "I never ate breakfast burritos again." -- "Never ate it again.", "I love you." -- "You love me.")

Over Phoenix's shoulder, over by lane six, the wife wheeled the World War II vet up to the lane. And he tossed the ball. Good team, I thought. Want to know someone take them to the bowling alley.

Phoenix removed a glove from her pocket. She had her own ball. Brought her own badass, jet black bowling gloves. And if her carnivorous tendencies hadn't already put a ***** in the Golden Days of Josh and Phoenix, that glove did.

She typed her name first on the scoring computer. Didn't ask if I wanted to go first. That's fine. Approached the lane, three fingers inside the ****** Mary. She brought her bony arm back with the grace of a ballerina tucked away stage right in the shadows. Mary cut from grace slid down the lane with a spin.

Strike. I couldn't really see the pins from my angle. But I recieved a transmission via the "yes" and arm pump. That was two marks against her, and I was going to three. I'd call it strikes, but well, the whole bowling skew.

Here's a bulleted list of what a "yes" and arm pump immediately taught me:

• She takes bowling serious.
• If you take bowling serious, when do you relax?
• She'd never relax.
• My life would be tucked shirts, matching belts and shoes.

For six frames, I picked up fours and sevens. Phoenix, though, nothing but strikes. I threw a gutter on frame seven. Like a normal human being, I shrugged. Made a face out the sides of my mouth. Kept it light.

"I thought you were a grown *** man," Phoenix said.

"Me too."

What happened next, I willed. I'm not god or anything like that. At the time, just cosmicly ******.
Her step stuttered. 7-10 split. "Mack!" she screamed. "Floors are slicker than a used car salesman's hair."

From across the alley,
"Sorry, Phoenix, baby. I'll bring you some nachos. That make up for it?"

"Ain't gonna knock down two pins is it?"

"So, uh, no nachos then?"

"Actually, go ahead and bring those."

She lined up. Back straight. Legs together. She rolled her neck. "You're about to see how it's done."

And I didn't. She broke it down the middle. Field goal. In that moment, that holy moment, I was knowledge plateau. Vindicated.

For about 10 seconds.

Mack swaggered over, nachos in hand. "Phoenix, sweetie, you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"No, that's why I asked."

"Just give me the nachos."

"Ah crap." Mack had gotten his pointer finger in the nacho cheese.

"Let me see it."

And right there, right in front the ****** Mary seafoam green bowling ball, she slurped the cheese off his finger."

Frame seven, a good as time as any to call it a match. The wife of the World War II vet kissed her husband's forehead. Handed him a ball. As I walked by, hand on shoulder. "Struck gold, dude."

You changed the colors of your hair
We don't care
You got an A on your test
We don't care

You got a new car
We don't care
You recieved a promotion
We don't care

You ate at that new resturaunt
We don't care
You bought new dress to flaunt
We don't care

Children are starving
Madmen are are carving
Up women they grabbed of the streets
Say goodbye to our heartbeats

Soldiers are dying
Innocent people are crying
we can try to fight starvation
But we are headed to damnation

but you don't care
It has nothing to do with you
just keep breathing your clean air
You have more important things to do

She did not keep the peace, was not the conformist in silence, was not a normal person. She was the rebellious martyr filled with centuries upon centuries of the world's anger and trash. She did not yield for a rule, never  stormed for the greater good of currency, and was born to die. But of course, not before she recieved what she thrived for.

I met a girl when she picked me up while  I was hitch hiking back from the health food store.

Her name is, well, I’ll call her “Mirror”. She was seventeen, with three different colors in her hair,and she was driving this great big mafioso looking thing down an old country road.

AND she picked me, a hitch hiker, up. like it was it was no big thing to her.

My first response after the normal howdy do’s, was;” Okay, first off, we are on this desolate back road, in the middle of BFE ,and corn fields forever. How do you know that I am not going to pull out a gun or a knife and slit your throat, or blow you away for your ride, or WORSE?”

She snickered and said,”Cause’ I can tell .”You aren’t that kind of person!”

My responsewas ,”How can you even  pretend to know THAT?”

She comes back with; “I can just tell”!

“Anyway, aren’t you glad I picked you up?’

“Of course!” I said, “but you need to be more careful!”

She dropped me at my house, and that was that.

I was left with hoards of memories sweeping my mind. Memories of myself at her age, along with her responses to my concern, and her total disposition, I knew I was staring into a mirror of my past!

I would, for sure, be seeing her again!

It was approx. two weeks later that I saw her, in a little mustang, as I was walking my dog on that same old road.

She pulled of as she turned the stereo down, I think it was blasting some new girl band, “Hey girlfriend” she says with this sweet little sideways glance, as if she’d known me for a lifetime, “whatcha up to?”

Having done the small talk thing, we decided ot hang out.
So she came over to the house, we talked.
As I got to know her situation a bit better, I knew.
... I was looking into the mirror of my past once more.
I had been placed into her life for a very special mission.

I also knew in my heart that, according to what she was telling me, she was headed for the same path of disaster and destruction, I had, not so long ago, put my own self  through.
It had all started at her exact age. but I did not, at this point know what to do about helping her.
...But it would come! ...yes, it would!

I found out, a little more than a year later, i could not have done anything to stop it from happening, when I met her. ...In her beginning...
It was during the “aftermath” or the “beginning of the end”, where I would be called back into her life to “play my part” so to speak.
So...
It was about a month ago, I just happened to be browsing through a thrift store, in Spruce Pine, with my neighbor. As I stood there, looking at an old quilt I wanted, but could not afford, I heard that  soft, sweet, little voice call me by my name.

”Romy?’ “Is that yooouuuu?!”
“*** I can’t believe it!”,
.....and so on and so forth.

My sweet friend from the road by my house, was there, was handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Mind you, I knew what this meant...
...She’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble.
And now, she was doing community service for it.

Sure enough she had.

I gave her my  telephone number, and that was that.

It was about three days ago when I got a phone call.
It was her.
She asked if she could come by to see me that afternoon, after school.
She needed to talk.
She actually did come on by.

Here we are some years later. I am scared.
Not for myself , physically, but something told me my time was up.
The gig was up.
The angels had finally found a way.
For me.
For her.

Now.
I need to back up to two years ago, so that you can get a real sense
of what is really going on here…..

After our first meeting, after she came back by my trailer,  in the cow pasture, the first time,
She hung with me the whole summer, and then into fall.
I got to know her parents very well.
I n their eyes I'd become a big sister/baby sitter for her.
She thought of it as just hanging out.
...a place away from her Dad, but close to her home.
She had never been with a boy, she explained,
but she'd made an attempt at a relationship with a girl at school, which turned out disastrous.
It even landed here in trouble at school, with the cops, and with the DSS, here in Yancey County.
(a place no one would ever want to land!)

Her mom was going through chemo and radiation, and so was I.
I was uncanny.
I had at least SOMETZHING, one thing, in common with almost every member of her family.
I became part of her family!

I knew from my own life and my experiences,  
she was dabbling in some kind of drug activity.
I just did not know what at first.

Made myself a promise.
I would find out what was really going on with t his girl.

Once I got her to open up to me.
I discovered she was stealing her dad’s 40mg Oxycontin and his 1mg klonapin out of his locked box.
This only AFTER he'd been giving them to her when she turned fourteen.
She was not only snorting them, but she was selling them as well!

I also did some digging, and found, she was getting in with some pretty savory characters.
Of course it wan't long, before she met this guy...
He was handsome, manipulative, and cunning.
But most of all, he had a raging monkey, the size of Detroit, on his back!

Only I could see him for the ****** ******* he really was.
I tried many tricks to expose him.
Her partents were blinded by his enamering.
His story was easy:
..he had been in the military, only to come home to a trailer trash wife, on drugs, of course, who had neglected their four year old child.
He'd come home just in time to play the knight in all his armour....!
I KNEW better!

But when I tried to warn her parents
they would hear nothing of it!
They refused to see in him
the evil that i could....

So when she started seeing him, I went to her parents with my premonitions.
They told me I was over  reacting.
And that i had become attached to their daughter, that I should just stay away for a while.
Her mom’s exact words were:
”I mean really, Romy...
" He is a MARINE for goodness sakes... !"
"... and the only reason he is home right now, is to save that yungin' from his drug addicted mother!”

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I had to let go....

Only years later, it would come out,
To her parents and everyone.
...He was a **** and dilaudid ******.
His mother was one, as well.
They used the little boy for food and money,
as well as their own selfish adgenda of feeding
that monkey from Detroit,
and the disease he brought with him.
They conned everyone from welfare, to  churches, to the department of Social Services.

I remember a conversation a had with her mom, while trying to get her to realize what he really was.
It went like this:
mom: “How could you even say such things about him!”
I never said another word.
Only
In my mind I was screaming;
"Because I know this *******!
He is addicted to drugs!  
He told me so, in the beginning!
He bragged to me about how he’d been doing dilaudid with his MOTHER for years.
And, all  of us junkies know, the only way to do dilaudid, is to shoot it up in your veins!

"*******!”"
I said to myself.

"PLUS, I even know his  other name."
"THE NAME is Daniel!"

"I know him well!"
"I ruined most of my young life trying to win his love."
"Only I did not know then what  I was up against...."
"This addiction was more powerful than another woman, or anything else, for that matter!"

"There IS no match
  for it!"

...I was screaming this all to myself.
...I knew then.
I was talking about my own life experience.
The years I spen, hurting myself, all the while attempting to impress my first, and truest love of my entire life.
He almost proved to be the ruin of me!
...The man on whom I waisted more than half of my life!
He, who became the beginning of my end!
He was the beginning of a lifetime of  ****** addiction, tears, disappointments, lies, and horror!

As I saw it, he and this ******* were one in the same.

More importantly, I also knew, in my heart of hearts, he would be the beginning of  HER end.
He would prove to be the beginning of her  horror.
I also knew, if she were to end up staying with this nobody *******, for any length of time, she would, inevitebly begin sticking needles in her arms.
My bet would be she'd start within one year.

Sadly,  I was correct.
she was,
and had been,
sticking needles in her arm.

The way I found out went down like this:
(and thus my reason for writing this)

She phoned me, upset, and crying.
Don't ask me how, but I knew she was dope sick.
...Perhaps it was the quiver in her voice.
The desperation.
A feeling I knew all too well.

I told her to come over.
She did.
I'll never forget.
She was working at Mc Donald's, to pay her way through cosmetolegy school.
So she still had that Mc Donald's uniform on. (The one, I knew, she loathed with every part of her being!)
And bless her heart...
...She brought me a pie.

I told her she looked like ****.
Then I asked her to explain why she'd gone so long without having any contact with me.
(although I knew the answers to each of my questions, I asked them anyway.)

I gave her motherly/sisterly hugs, while attemting to make her feel loved.
(something she had not experienced often, at least, not without a price!)

I needed her to know, that no matter what she had to offer , for the time I hadn't heard from her, I would love her, and I would help her, and I would hold her, until she needed me to let go.

So.
It was after hugs, love, some understanding eye contact, I made the promise of understanding. She had to know, that  no matter what she might reveal, I would ALWAYS be in her corner. I would always be hers. I would be whatever she needed me to be.
..As long as I was helping her towards her self understanding,  towards love, and  towards happiness.

It was a few seconds after our long embrace and our moment of connection and understanding, when she took me into the bathroom.
She uttered these words, nervously, and with shame;
”Romy, Do you really want to know how bad I've gotten, how far I have now fallen?”
...Or perhaps her words were, in actuallity, more like "Romy, look at how bad this has gotten."
I am not sure which of the two is more correct, but I got the message loud and clear, and my heart broke.
Litererally, it broke into a million pieces.
My heart broke for her, but it also broke for the girl I once was, before my own demons came to visit.

I knew then, from the depths of my being,
how the scene would play out...
I knew the ending,
before it ever began.

In a moment I will share with you, the dialog that went on between us on that cold, cloudy, winter afternoon in Nowheresville, NC.
This is one conversation I shall, forever, remember until I take my final breath.
It will remain with me through lifetimes to come.
...It has become a part of me.

ME: ”So. have you learned how to do yourself?”
“Or is that why you are here?”
"If it  is the later, you've come to the wrong place."

She started to cry.

"I know how to hit myslef", she said.
H uge tears runnig down her face.
"You warned me, Romy." "And I didn't listen."
"How DID you know, anyway?"

I could not hold back the tears.  
They poured straight from the depths of my being.
Again, he I stood, once again, in front this georgous girl, who was destroying herself!
Again, all I could see was myself in the mirror!

I have yet to felt such a sadness within me, as the one I felt at that moment.

As she rolled up her sleeve, there it was...
a site too familiar..
Uncanny, it was.
How could this girl be the SAME?
Seriously!
...The same arm.
...The same hole.
...The same sore.
...The same color.
..The same sad and bewidered expresion.
It said. No, it screamed;
"Help me please! I'm so ******* gone!"
"Help me please!"
" You're all I've got!"

I wanted to turn and run a fast and far as I could get.
Heer she stood in front of me
Here she stood.
The exact ******* same as me.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't think.
I wanted to puke.
She
was
MEEEE!

The silence was broken by her voice, and by her expression.
She obviously saw my transition from a strong woman who cared so much,
into a womean who had turned white as a ghost.
Then she asked;
” How did you know, Romy?”
“How ever COULD you have known?”

I did not.
I could not.
Begin to answer her then.

But I thought to myself;
"How could I not?"

I left that tiny bathroom not knowing WHAT to do, or what to say.
I, for once,was at a loss.
For the first time in my life,
the words  would just not come!

I couldn't speak my usual words of incourgment.

Until she came to me, and gave me a hug.

...she has just left my house.
My heart is heavy.
She'd  come to me today, for reasons,
she herself,
could never have understood.

I went into my bedroom, whee she sat.
I asked her what she'd been up to that made her decide to call me.
She said she did not know.
She'd been out driving after work,
and so she'd just ended up calling.
Now she was at my place.

I shared with her the importance of truthfulness.
With oneself even more than with others.

Then I shared with her my story, and my reasons for caring so very much for  her well being.

I told her about the mirror I saw between us from the beginning.
..of my battle with herion addiction.
But I told her  also of the stubborn dream I'd carried with me for eighteen years because of a guy, just like hers.
I answered all of her questions.
I completed her sentences.
She completed some of mine.
I felt her heart breaking.
And I helped her to let go.

She was so shocked at what I shared with her, about myself,
and about my own life,
that it  literally brought her back to her self. I had somehow, reached her inner being.
She was able to return to her own reality, away from the deceit.
And away from the web of lies which had been woven around her.

I feel good!
I feel like she will be alright.

May hope is, through me, she was able to see how easily we can fall into someone else's need and addiction. How we make it our own by allowing someone elses demons drag us down, down into oblivion, and how their misery can, so easily, consume us. Then take over our very life!
IF we let it!

....I held her for a long time.
We cried together.
I cried for her.

I also cried for me.

I cried for the girl that I once was.

...Before Daniel.
                              ...Before Manhattan.
                                                      ­                                                
                                                                ­       ...Before the misery.

She cried her own tears for herself,
her kind heart,
and for what would never be.
She cried, grateful tears, knowing now she will no tso easily loss her way,
she knows the angels now. She can feel them guide her every day.
She is not alone.

I will forever be there for her.
wherever she may be.
...we are connected now.
...Little Miss Kim and me!

Her spirit is strong.
She will succeed.
She recieved what she needed most.
... A friend
... A kindred spirit.
...and  a bit of wisdom from little old
me.
Oh, and now I know why my Blackie walked me down the old country road.....
My sister, Kimberly, needed me!

The size of Allah,
Is more than my little mind can handle, it makes me stay in awe
We are but none existent if you would compare
Just remember, my children, to fulfill your prayer
His mercy if far bigger than his wrath
He wants us to stick to his path
The path which he has picked for us,
So do not follow the devil, for he only means us harm
My children,educate yourselfs and think of God, he keeps us warm
Think about all blessings you have recieved
Even the ones you wouldn't have believed in
For your own sake, please don't commit sin
It is far better to be righteous and pure
Righteous deeds are for a sick heart some kind of cure
Indeed, he is the one who created the heaven with might
And he is the one who constantly expands it. Has this switched a light ?
This is just one of many signs you can find
Now rest, it  is already night...
Let us sleep, then tomorrow do what's right

~ Umi

Are you real?
Yes.
Take this.
The buffalo stampede stirs up so much dust.
I cant see through the cloud of dust that chokes me.
It's black.
I can see now.
I see too much.
The DNA, molecules, rushing past me as I speed forward.
I'm in a hallway.
The door opens and white light surrounds the man.
It draws me towards it like a moth to a candle.
I can almost touch him, I stumble through the door.
The fog that surrounds the island is thick.
The laughter of hidden children fills my ears.
The butterflies float gracefully by.
I smell the cleanest air I've ever smelled, like the morning after a rain.
The cobblestone path leads me to the cabin of my dreams.
I smell the pines that surround me.
The heavy wooden door never recieved my knock.
It was opened by a man I hadn't seen in years.
The man looked at me with the same soft smile I had seen for years before.
I wept.
Is it nice here? We have everything we need.
Is she here?
No, but she will be soon.
Can I stay?
No. You have to leave.
I don't want to.
It's not your time; you're not ready.
He pushes me out of the house, the only time his hands weren't loving.
As he slammed the door in my face, I awoke gasping for air.
A sense of dread overcame me.
I wept.
The man I had loved and had loved me all those years had kicked me out of his home.
Kicked me from death.
Back into life.
Back into this world of pain and sorrow.
Back with the ones I love and love me.
Thanks grandpa.

I recieved the
"Best attitude award"
For basketball

Everyone cheered
My team congratualated me
I smiled
And looked happy

But really,
I wanted to cry
The coach said I deserved it,
That I came each day
Smiling

Yes,
I do come in smiling
But only so no one sees the pain

That is not
The "best attitude award"
Not for me,

For me,
It is the
"Best liar award"

For I tricked everyone
Into thinking
Even my tears that night
Were tears of joy

I convinced everyone
Oh good job
They thought I was happy

That was when
I realized
Help would never find me

For I recieved
The "best liar award"

Today is my birthday,
Why did you come now?
Who invited you here?
Why that sudden longing for me???

Don't weep,sing songs in sad tunes!!!
I want to see you merry..
I'm happy you came,
But by then the song was over..

I'm happy and sad seeing,
The only ROSE you gave me!!!
You are too late,
Sorry I can't have them!!!

I can't smell em ,
embrace em tight..
For I lay in my eternal sleep,
my final niche,buried in soil..

Yes today is my  BIRTHDAY,
-MY BIRTHDAY FOR ETERNITY-!!!!

Leather brown, bomber down, hit the bottom, rise again.  The resounding sounds bounce around.  It helps to misunderstand the plan, so follow these directives if you can.

Green amygdala your orange eyes create suspense.

Hipster blue, the denim, black boots, and those paperback books.

He walks with attitude,
reads for romance.

Magnetic the charm bringing them in.  Stood in the centre as the hurricane spins.  Tethered to nothing, not even a creed.  A miracle in the making, an empty street, a canvas unpainted, a jewellery box recieved.

My dad sleeps with A teddybear and i wonder why.  He's a construction worker and a pretty tough guy. He's a real man because I've never seen him cry.

He takes me to my games and when the cheers go up... he's always the loudest one. I was taught that winning is cool...but it's more important to have some fun.

Just me and my dad....I really love that guy. He's my hero and my star.....he said to be successful in life....You must be true to who you are.  I'm a poet/writer....but enough about me.....let's go back to my dad and his teddy.

My friend came over afterschool .....we were playing the game ....doing the things that kids do.  He said I'll be right back I'm going to the bathroom.

Upon his return his face had this worried look.  At first he tried to pass it off as a joke....but he failed the test.  It was obvious that he had something he needed to get off his chest.

On the way back downstairs I passed your father's room and I saw a disturbing sight.  I swore he was clutching a teddybear and holding it tight.....I hope he didn't let the bedbugs bite.  He began to laugh out loud....but i didn't find it funny.  I felt violated like pooh stealing the bees honey.

I tip toed up the stairs because this mission required stealth.....if my dad is awakened this may be harmful to my health.  I peeked into the room and what did i see?  Two beady black eyes with A yellow hat staring right at me.

I let out a gasp due to my surprise.....why the stuffed animal?  An answer was hard to surmise.  I retreated to the stairs and descended the steps.....it was like the walk of shame.....I'm thinking about relocating and changing my whole name.

My friend was smiling and asked "Did you see?" steady stuffing popcorn in his face while I'm dealing with a catastrophe.  A few minutes later my dad magically appears and I can only utter "Dad why?" He's looking confused as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

The bear that you were holding in your sleep.....What's the reason for that?  You are an adult and way too old for that.  He paused for a few minutes to gather his thoughts.  The response I recieved wasn't what i thought.

Son...although its my business what i do.....I'll explain my situation to you.   Do you know what its like to sleep in your bed alone?  Your mother ....(my wife) is no longer home.  We used to be happy or so I thought .....

The woman I loved for so many years has broken my heart and reduced me to tears.  My greatest gift from her is you.  You are my inspiration and the reason I work the way I do.  I loved her ....but she never loved me.

If something doesn't want to stay.....you have to set it free.  Son...the bear became my form of relief .....it game me comfort and allowed me to sleep.  The perfume that your mother used to wear.....she sprayed the bear with it.  The fragrance reminds me of the love we used to share and......how I would tell her ....."I love you"...and gently stroked her hair.

The bear was given to me by your mother the first time we met.....as i become stronger and the hurt begins to decrease.....me and the bear will be at peace.  Son....I hope you understand that I'm still a strong man....I'm just hurting and allowing God to work his plan.

I got a clear view of my father's heart and i really no longer cared.....He had all the right in the world to sleep with a teddybear.

how does one  manipulate others   how does one  manipulate each other i dont get it.
this world was at peace then  random one pokes at them until a ****** war starts.
you may be the biggest ****** for it but you can cry and moan and ***** because you recieved a beating that you started  i say your manipulation   will be your down fall you can tell your mom your dad hell call the cops  because    theres one option in mind shut the hell up and fight what you started jesus   these people are the  biggest hypocrites  i ever seen   because this one person has ruined my life ever since he was born so when your falling off a cliff you can fall to the rocks   like a the little coward you are  your pestilence smells like   a rotten apple core

there will come a day
when father time will grow
jealous of us and
the fireflies will
turn off their glow

when the diamonds
wont seem so precious
and all the joys
of this world will
seem foolish and low
and i will have to
let you go
dear mama

sometimes i make you laugh
just to hear the joys
youve stopped showing
on your face

to breath your
attempts to cough up
your worries and drown
in my love

to watch you unfold
at the ends and
sease to be held in
at your seams

there will come a day
when everything
i have ever said to you
will flutter off like a thousand
butterflies in a storm
and my actions
will weigh heavier
than the 98 pounds
they've made of me
dear mama

i know i wont be able
to hold your stare
for as long youve held
my hand but im hoping
the seconds i've been given
havent already carved
a gourge in your daylight
since you recieved
me in place of a son

instead of building
a doll house of regrets
i vow to keep the
reality of your name true

wont glorify the time
you tried to spill
yourself in the wind
with the barrel of a
police issued gloc
because the shock
of your babies moving away
too much of a trigger

bet i let the ringing
of unfired suicide rounds
bounce off every new york city
sidewalk slab i've chased
in an attempt to
run from myself

when i left you
know that i held
the crotchet needles
you made my baby blanket
with in my chest
had the day
of your second stroke
in my heart

and the only way
i could release them was to
shed my skin under the chin
of a brooklyn boarding house
so dont frown at the anatomy
of a new york city skyline
just know it offered
the shoulders i needed
at that moment

when father time
grew jealous of us
and the fireflies turned
off their glow
i grew a light of my own
dear mama

something happened
between me watching you
relearn how to walk
around the same time
i learned to
double knot my tennis shoes

when everyone assumed
my ignorance was bliss
and let the brilliance
in your bones become
as black as night
without ever noticing
i was afraid of the dark

what have these years
done to us?
to make me bloom
in the bright of day
while baking the stalk
that is you
i cant stand to watch
you wither
wont you shine too
dear mama

Forgiveness, to forgive                    (for me)
Is essentially subtle- to a fault,
Beautifully it's practiced,
Yet inherently mistaught:
To ask of anything more
From the person you've done wrong
Is blatantly selfish, at its core
Pressuring them along.

Unless exactly, specific and honestly, you reiterate once more.
All the reasons which you petition forgiveness
And what you're sorry for:


To draw conclusions, assumptions and things, without the facts in place-
Was to right out start off in
an Unreasonable head space.
Furthermore, my tone of voice
And the disrespect it achieved
Is not what you- Alena, not at all
From me; should've ever recieved.

Lastly, explicitly I have to say;
I'm sorry for my aggressive words.
And the fact I reacted that way is
absurd
A retort- as a minuet or two, voice note
Deserved the block- and what you wrote.

I'm sorry about this- discrepancy
I actually enjoyed you working with me.
I'll leave this here for you to find, &
Hope these words were worth your time.
When you read, know these are sincere; my apologies- true.
Not just mere pretty, fluffy words for you.

Poetry's something I, almost know, you appreciate~ so heres an apologistic-free vers hyphenate.

Sometimes I wonder,
Sometimes I ponder,
Why do I love her.

At one look she's valentine,
and the next... she's somebody else

But like a spectre on Holloween's day,
its all but a mask.
A mask that someone else used to wear.
A mask filled with fear, grief and pain.
Masks that fills up the small dents in her heart.

I ran, she glimpsed, I reached, she smiled.
A great story it is. Yet another,
I ran, I reached, an empty look from her face.
A story that makes me cry and kneel to the Lord.

It's a difficult love indeed and temptations are real and big.
Yet, I could not find a reason to steer and drive away.
And against all logic, Love compels me to stay.

The love that compelled my savior to be hanged on a tree.
A love that never gives up,
a love that is defined by no other word than love it self.
Is the love that keeps me going.

It is because of love, that I could not let go.
Because, my savior himself did not let go.
Even at times that I betray and spat him to his face
He did not let go. He held on, He struggled.
He pulled me, He embraced me.

My Rabbi once thought me,
that love is both sweet and deadly.
love in its ultimate form, will lead one person to die.

"Die to self" my Rabbi says.
Until when can I die to my self?

Scarry as it is, I am ready to die in the name of love,
Scarry as it is, I am ready  to die to show one person love,
To lit the light of hope in her, to light back faith in her heart.
As great purposes awaits her, to be a sign of hope is a great pleasure indeed.

So am I crazy enough to lose the world in the name of love?
Sadly, I'am still incapable of loving like my savior does.
For he is perfect and I.... am being perfected.

We are of no comparison,
He was innocent, yet I was guilty.
guilty as accused.
I am but a  mere speck of dust compared to His glory.

O how can I find love in the eyes of my valentine?
I cried out and He answered,
"You don't" He says,
For  love is not about you,
but it is about dying to your self

With this love that I recieved,
I am on my way.
Fighting fears, lies and struggles,
I am on my way.

As love compels me to be,
Therefore I concluded that
I.... must be..... Half-Crazy.

The air is brittle this ominous, wintry night.

The slivers of a life you used to know still haunt you, as surely as you have permitted them to be a haunt to others.

Without question, it is those memories that spur your ruminations; that cause your copious circumlocutions; which compell you to stand on this somber boulevard in front of this crumbling, but once stately manor that now is a languid presence with the solitary purpose of looming over the vast grounds.

It is obligatory that you proceed along the avenue that used to split the yards that are now overgrown and chocoblock with twisted vines, and thistles.

You pause, to gather your strength.
One deep inhailation and then you hold your breath as you grip the tarnished handle and lock leaver.

With a perfect degree of strength your thumb recalls, the mechanism is undone.

Your arm pushes forward.

The silence is disturbed by a warbling creak as the heavy door is slowly opened.

You exhale, then before you lose your nerve you quickly pass through the ingress and enter into the foyer,
which is instantly familiar in the dim, flickering light and the long, slender adumbrations effected by the gossamer encaked voltives jutting from the dusty walls.

Though it has remaned unchanged  
throughout all the time that has passed, standing in the ornate room affirms that the warmth with which you used to be recieved here has been abandoned to a frigidity.

You feel as if this room remembers you.

This is as far as I dare go with you, my friend, though I know you must continue.

I have listened to your stories, so
I know you have many rooms to search.

The closier that you seek is in a matter that is not my own.

I will depart upon rendering these words of warning:

When visiting the past,

As you daringly explore these often haralded halways,
Be careful what you leave behind.
Take caution not to lose yourself,
For a shadow lingers in the Suite Sublime.

This poem is for anybody struggling to find love.


You know in life love is something we all want to reach
A man or a woman in our lives is what we wanna see
We all want to be hugged and we all want to be kissed
The last thing we ever want is to be incredibly dissed
For some love comes easy but others it’s can be difficult
‘Cause in my opinion it’s easy to say that love is beautiful
We all need love it makes life worth living
You don’t agree with me that’s your decision


But can you imagine yourself heading into your fifties
Never been with somebody makes you look like a *****
Never once have you held somebody’s hand besides your parents
You never ever had somebody to love you and you feel embarrassed
So you never kissed a girl or made out with her
But you want to have that feeling that’s for sure
You never talked to a girl and you feel even worse
Seeing guys with girls makes you feel more hurt
Wishing that there was a female by your side
You want someone there to make your life right
A girl to caress you when you’re feeling down
A girl to come and make your world go round
You want her to kiss you when you feel devastated
But unfortunately all your entire life you hesitated


You wanted to ask a female out but you just chickened out
You feel ashamed because you know what you’re missing out
You’ve been rejected so many times that you lost hope
Asked a girl to be your lover all they told you was no
Went to nightclubs many of times but couldn’t attract girls
You failed to find that somebody who would rock your world
Jealousy burns when you see a girl ******* a guy
People ask if you’re a ****** you go ahead and lie
You’re too ashamed to tell people the truth
When it comes to virgins they are very few
You do want to be inside a girl but you never really had a chance
Either you didn’t have time or you were the one girls couldn’t stand
Just to get her in your bed and kick it off there
But no woman appraoched they just didn’t care
Forced to turn to ******* to turn on your *** drive
Seeing the action hoping you get to do that in your life


A relationship dosen’t seem complete if you haven’t done it
If you haven’t gotten personal with a woman or sumthin’
For other guys it’s very easy to go and make love
You’re frustrated that you couldn’t find someone
It’s pretty clear that nobody wants to be a ******
You want to make sweet love that’s for certain
You hear most people lose it in their teenage years
Almost fifty and you still are one and that’s your fear
It’s either you hesitated all your life
Either you couldn’t find someone right
Or all this time you always have been rejected
And because of that your hopes have been affected
It’s safe to say *** seems to be a popular trend these days
If you haven’t lost it yet you have people thinking that you’re gay


Never been on a date
So you haven’t been great
49 years and you still haven’t found someone
You’re looking for love and you found no one
When you were a child your dream was to have a kid
Now it dosen’t seem possible as you never got did
Embarrassed because most people your age are already grandparents
No one wants you because the wrinkles on your body are apparent
Your younger days were wasted sitting infront of the T.V. all day
It’s a shame because at your age you’ll never get a girl at this rate
It’s embarrassing when you don’t know how *** works
It’s a big shame when you have never recieved flirts


Your elementary school days you were dissed
In middle school the girls thought you were sick
And in high school girls punched you in the lips
It seems as though you never got any luck
You weren’t even close to recieve any lust
Hell, you weren’t even touched by *****
Finding love seems to be a struggle for you
Seems like you need to see The Love Guru
You want to live that kind of life then that’s fine
But if you don’t then you gotta step on the line
Love is not an easy thing to catch
You gotta make like a dog and fetch
Do whatever you can to attract attention
And hope that you don’t fall into deception


If you never been flirted with verebally then you’re a mess
If you’re not even close to that then you’ll never have ***
Having your ***** become wrinkled up and dried up
Can’t let those things keep you down and pop right up
Don’t want live like this then just have to keep trying
Just keep going even though you got people denying
Yeah you’ll be made fun of for waiting too long
With courage so strong nothing can go wrong


Yahoo Phillipness seems to be help
Hearing about people who have dealt
With the harsh reality of not being loved
And to help you move for that special one
If you’re unfortunate they say try a ******
And yeah it’ll cost money just to book her
But that’s probably your only chance at ever getting laid
At your age it’s probably the only option that you can take

Message in a bottle
with a cork plugged into the top

sealing it shut, suction tight

Nothing can penetrate the bond between the cork and the glass

I wrap my hand around it,

my palm pressed against the grooves underneath the cork

which press into my palm,

creating more grooves

However much I heave,

however tight I contract my muscles

until my body quivers as my lungs expand,

until there is nothing left for me to do but release

Release my muscles

Release my lungs

Release my hope

Because your bottle will always stay closed

Nothing will be discovered if its desire is to be a mystery

So I'll set this bottle on the rocks at my feet

I'll leave it there, waiting for a wave to wash up onto the coast

I hope it takes it away with its tide

so it can see the world from inside the glass

All I have left are the grooves on my palm

all I have left are weaker muscles and exhausted lungs

to remember the message I never recieved

That rests somewhere distant

never to be read

protected by a cork.

No body knows me
let the grey be all
they see.
Let only I
and the owl alone
catch that scent
of death in the air.

From across the
blazing asphalt
I watch children
chase balloons
across manicured lawns.
I stand like a
ghost and will the
balloons to float
just out of
reach of a
double braided
little girl.

As  the wind catches
the childrens losses
the faintest
of smiles
flashes across
my face.
As I look
up and catch
4 more losses
that have now
been forever
taken by
the winds
of my memory.

A message I
send to one of
my only friends.
Let it reach
him or her
before I change
my mind again.

I've opened up
and presented to
them nothing.

No body knows
me,
let the poppies
blood cleanse me.
The pain I produce
is not infectious.
It's private,
it slowly tortures me.
Like the stammer
and those
years,
it destroys me.

I count four colors
forever taken
by the wind.
And 3 children
who's
teary eyes
and scornful
stares are now
fixed on me.

I look to
the heavens and
smile toward their
loss.

Let those floating
colors be their
only hurt.

Let them never
know my smile,
Shield them
from the
Dragon.

I'm numb enough,
I can take it,
Let them be
and lay all that you
got right here.
Right over here.
Right all over
me.

Lay it on me,
your payments
I've recieved
before.
And yet somehow
I find myself still
indebt to you.

Let them grow
old and wonder.
Let them wonder
before
they began to
forget.

Let them join all
the rest.

Let them
become
enemies
of my sorrow.

Let them quietly
fall into their
existence.

Let them Be.
You've already
taken all that
was left
of me.

Part One - Missing presumed dead

Apparently Alec was missing presumed dead
at least that was what the obituary said
how then he got married is still a mystery
life after a very dark period of history

               Jane plodded head down through another long day
               solitude complete in a strange kind of way
               while Kestrels are tacked to an untamed sky
               she screams "Dear Lord wont you please tell me why"

young Alec stood well over six foot tall
legs full of shrapnell disfigured and all
willing to give all for a meagre days pay
a young man with half of his face blown away

                Shepherdess Jane sat under sad twinkling stars
                it was plain to see she had her own mental scars
                the Ferryman's Daughter, she was so kind
                different from the others, Jane was blind

when the bells of victory began to ring forth
it was too much for Alec, he headed up North
up to the North where the bronze fields shone
but Alec's old personality had gone

                 there in the North a young Shepherdess called Jane
                 did dry Alec's tears and soothed his deep pain
                 Her voice rolled over hills in a plaintive wave
                 as they assumed Alec lied in an unmarked grave

In time they married, Jane bore Alec a Son
but talk about the war, Alec would have none
all that he said was "between you and me..
I've seen things that no man should ever see"

                 flashbacks in his mind of the dead still ringing
                 offset by his young Wife's ethereal singing
                 somewhere around the Somme young Alec lay dead
                 at least that was what the obituary said.


Part Two - The Ferryman

The Ferryman vowed he would find his girl
he picked some roses to place in the top room
searched high and low to find his precious lost pearl
swore he would have her back before the flowers bloom

treated like a slave, a young girl in her prime
the Brothers got away Jane was left behind
her body it did whither through the passing of time
She was different from the others, Jane was blind

worked as a Milkmaid her hands would get so sore
under constant threats she still searched for the spark
work never done a family waits on the shore
although Jane was blind she could see in the dark

the moon shone bright on the path to the Ferry House
the gusts picked up on the night Jane ran away
salty wind and sea shanty's awakened the grouse
as Jane finally gets her break from the play

He scoured every square inch of the land
yet couldn't ask why? Or search into his past
at the Wayfarers Inn they'd got it all planned
released from a cruelty that could no longer last

the night the Father died Gaelic psalms they sang
a lonely house still stands like a watch to nature's will
when they buried the Ferryman the church bells rang
the flowers in the attic, they stand there still.


Part three - The Inn (recapitulation)

The Ferrymans lantern swung in the pouring rain
he heard that his Daughter had made it to the Inn
the audience sang to the Drovers refrain
midst discarded cigarettes, rolling dice and gin

Jane had long picked brambles from thorn covered vines
lived an intoned existence yet she had her plans
though Jane was blind she could read between the lines
a chance to escape, she grabbed it with both hands

the Inn's cosy light shone at the end of the lane
to Whiskey Jack, Jane's elopement had come to light
she had nothing to lose and everything to gain
Jane's now with Alec and has recieved her respite

see him dramming away yarns, bereft of what's true
then screaming his lies to the starry sky above
but tidal subtleties are demanding their due
his heart had long died to the trueness of love

the landlord played the piano and felt every note
the Ferryman's lantern swung in the pouring rain
given up his search, now in want of his boat
regular at the Inn but never seen again

he knew that yesterday would never come back
sailing aimlessly like a throw of the dice
he knew there would be no-one to take up the slack
the doomed Mariner paid the ultimate price.

No latte
no "three men walked into a bar ..."
no sun salutation
can give me that reinvigorating boost

no melody
(and for that matter no harmony)
no pedicure
no crisp fall walk
can ease my anxious state

I am unsettled, trying to find a surface to settle on
so I settle down to the lowest parts of Maslow's mountain
searching for comfort in edible bites and physical bits,
deep in the valley where I should not be

"How  ya  doin'?"
"OhI'mgood!"

Ain't got time for the real answer
Ain't got time
Ain't got time
  cause I won't give it to myself
     I was never good at prioritizing

Cause if I knew my priorites
I would remember what a priority it is
to bend to my knees
sink into the ground
and reverently gaze UP

I have not imagined the answers and peace I have recieved
You have to open your mind to see His work
He is visible
   in earth and sky
Sometimes He has to remind me
but when He does ...
well, I can enjoy the melodies
and lattes
and jokes again

P.W.C.

He accuses me of lying
Even though im being honest
He said he sent me a text
And did i not response
But i assure him
I never recieved anything
And he says "yeah right"
It hurts me to know
That i could swear on everything
And im still a liar
I wish for once he would believe me
But of course that will never happen
I hate the fact that im always being blame
For things i have never made
Im tired of being in this position
Always being accuse of lying

Inside my skin, there's anguish.
It twists & burns.
Inside my heart, there's emptiness.
It bleeds & aches.
Inside this vessel, there's continual longing.
Longing for pleasures & acceptance.
Nothing is found & nothing is recieved.
This vessel, it seems
is haunted!

I took you to the top of a Colorado mountain
A yogi with blonde hair and light eyes
Told us to let go of our anger, let it seep through our skin like a fountain
And evaporate into the angelic blue skies
Let it go
Let something go

She said "Be here, happy, now."
You told me that night
You felt relieved for the first time, though you didn't know how
But you finally felt you were not going to fight
Yourself
Your mind

I bombarded you with my energy
I cocooned you in my love
I gave you my spirit
I only hope you look back on our wanderings
That you are thankful for what you recieved
And that you still hold in you a bit of my energy, a bit of my peace.

The day sneaks up behind me
Telling me my time has come
Time to leave behind all that I've worked for
Knocking on every door
Begging  for a chance at life
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't forget me when I leave
Don't forget me when I fall into the emptiness
Don't forget me when I try to escape what consumes me
My time has come to say goodbye
My flight to the heavens has arrived
Survived the battle of life for so long
Everyday closer to the loss of this everlasting battle
Don't know if my imprints in this life will last forever
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't let me drift away into the nothingness of the forgotten
Don't let me fade into a memory
Don't let me be lost amongst the commons
I came and I made my mark
Used my dreams to light way out of the dark
Wanna be remembered as more then just a common man
Want people to give a **** about me when I leave this cage
Don't want to be recieved into the hands of the unmourned
Don't want to spend eternity feeling forlorn
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't let me turn into a torn page from a notebook
All I have in this world means nothing when I'm gone
I don't want all that you have of me to be just another memory
Want my story told for all to hear
So I can rid myself of this fear
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't leave me in this cage lingering in the dark space in the back of your mind
Don't wanna be lost for no one to find
Getting tired of being left behind
Stepped up on this plateau
Up here for the world to see
That this is me and I won't be forgotten
Won't be forgotten
I'm leaving this world and I have just one wish
One wish
Don't forget me
Don't forget me

I yearn to feel complete,
whole,
and full.
For so long I have felt
empty,
weak,
and vulnerable.
I'm sick of this
disease.
I'm tired of this
tortuous thing that I have
so unluckily
recieved.
I'm done with trying to fight it;
for I am the champion of my mind.
Victory shall be mine;
forever and always
I
will
reign.

When she recieved her first 'A', and hung it on
the frigde, they called her Alexandria, and
they chanted the name with pride.

When she tried on make-up for the first time, and asked
her father how she looked, he simply nodded and said
you look beautiful, Alexandria, though she knew he was lying.

When she saw her first naked boy, at a party out in province,
she questioned whether to stay or go. All he had to do was call
her Alex, and her mind was fully made up.

When she smoked her first cigarette after going to bed with
that boy she'd met moments prior, everyone called her Lexi,
whispering it between moans and drags from cheap cigarettes.

Now, on most evenings, outside the local bar, she stands on the
corner, pacing back and forth, and asks herself if that test still hangs
on the fridge, and what they'd call her now...