I danced in a ten
percent chance of rain;
not just because it
beat the odds,
but because
it never even
considered them.
It reminded me that
systems and
statistics are
man-made and fallible -
boasting with a
sure tone,
yet still confined
to near fraudulence..

You can tell me
it’s unlikely to rain,  
but it won't
stop it from pouring.
You can tell me
there's no God,
but it won't stop
Him from healing
these festered wounds.
And you can tell me
I'll never walk,
but it won't keep
me from dancing..

Dancing in a ten
percent chance of rain;
In part, because it
beat the odds -
More so, because
it never even
considered them.
Perhaps, it was even
in spite of them.
Or maybe it just
reminded me that
systems and
statistics are
man-made and fallible -
boasting with a
self-righteous tone,
yet still confined
to near fraudulence..

Either way..

You can tell me
it won't rain,  
but you won't
stop it from pouring.
You can tell me
there's no God,
but it won't stop
Him from healing
these festered wounds.
And you can tell me
I'll never walk,
but you won't keep
me from dancing..

Heart heavy and hard as stone
Swore she’d never be alone
Wore the stone around her neck
Made every man a nervous wreck

The sky grey and gloomy
contrasted with subtle ease
the trembling damp branches
of fire-colored maple leaves
As if the mountain were ablaze -
contained by the gentle mist
It was all held securely
Still the stillness, I resist

What is it that
I'm afraid of?
And what reason
do I have to doubt?
As if the One who
tames the fires
would ever leave me
here without
Can't the fires of
of a failing mind
be tamed by
the Autumn mist?
So why do I burn with
such remorse
clinching worn
memories in my fist?

Go to sleep, dear child
It all fades away in the end
There's no way to tame the wild
or grasp for the Autumn wind
Find rest in what is true
when there's nowhere else to go
There's nothing for you to do
and nothing else for you to know.

If this autumn moon
that gives such light
were the eye of He who
gave me sight,
then He would see
a sheep asleep
while children die
and mothers weep.  

And, if glimmering stars
were angel bands
that laid to waste
a wasteful man,
then I would pray
that they be blind
to those I've harmed
or left behind.

We put our
problems in a bottle,
sank it and
said a prayer..
then hammered
down the throttle
and threw our hands
to the open air..
The evening sky
especially beautiful -
It's sun bursting
through cloudy skies
And still, it was
barely suitable
to reflect those
bluest eyes..
Then we tore through
sparkling water -
Blonde curls dancin'
in the summer wind
Just a worn out dad
and his daughter
who might not come
this way again..
But today the water
welcomes us..
promising to drown
our sorrow..
And perhaps,
the Good Lord helpin' us,
we'll do it all
again tomorrow..

"Just half a step
too slow", she said
"You don't have to
chase the beat..
Let rhythm oil those
bones", she laughed,
"and flow to
your two left feet.
It's nothing you have
to try to do..
We're all born to dance.
But some of us are
self aware and won't
give ourselves a chance.."

She smiled and put
her hand in mine and
it calmed my busy brain
And the whole night
we spent cheek to cheek  
Dancing in the pouring rain.

Morning sentiment
Sunlight dancing on the stove
through wavy curtains
---
Freshly made coffee
thickens the homely kitchen
with pure pleasantry

Somewhere in the sands of time,
I hear the sound of a faithful cry..
from a bird with broken wings
who sings "my hope will never die!"..
His chances are less than average.
He's a candle in a hurricane.
Still he bows beaneath the storm
and he sings louder amidst the rain.
He knows what he'd become
if it were not for his broken wings..
He'd probably make a nest of thorns
and fill it up with shining things.
He might say "I'll sing tomorrow" -
But tomorrow might never come..
And the only awful song would be
a song that he never sung.
And what would he become
when his soul no longer sings?
So, he sings his songs of gratitude
all the more with his broken wings..

What I wanted to say
remains confined inside
a bitter heart broken
by what could've been -
held captive by a mere
mention of the weather.

There was no good ending.
No "happily ever after".
No redemption in our story.
We were just a childish love
driven by infatuation.

What we called "love" was
carried away by the
butterflies in our bellies.
What we called our "future"
has faded with all the
pleasant memories of us-
And now it's like it never
happened.. it was all
fabricated and fantasized
like the words I wanted to say.

That weapon
of mine you
confront with such
hateful hostility
is the only sword
sharp enough to
pierce your
inattentive armor -
You'd never
acknowledge
my existence
had I not been
swinging it.

And that
drunken bellow -
the only noise
louder than
the pushy,
productive voices
in your head.

If I have to be psychotic,
Let it bring no harm to anyone..
fill my mind with hues of colors;
not the pressure of passing time.
If I'm convinced of any lies,
let it be "this world is just fine"
I'll bid farewell to sanity and
let the colors fill my mind..

It was right for you to leave,
but you didn't have to
take me with you..

Now I'm cold and alone
and my hands are clammy..
gripping my reasons  
like that bouquet of
Dogwood flowers I clasped
till the pedals fell..

Just as I fell into the same
desperation that plagued
my soul before you came..

Don't you cry when
I'm in the grave
You'll be sad and
I won't hear..
Tell me what's
the matter now..
Tell the truth
and make it clear.

Don't you weep
when I go to sleep
if there's a promise
I've failed to keep.
I'll give to you and
when I'm gone,
just let me sleep
and don't you weep.

Day after day, I rivel.
Who knows for how long?
Reduced to mere survival
screaming it’s selfish undertone.
Aspiration is long forgotten
If I live, to what avail?
Despair darkens my demeanor
Time and time again, I fail.
Compassion is now contended;
Making less sense than it did before
And those who are offended
break the hinges off my door.
Disappointment - my adornment
as if I’m capable of more..
If only they knew the torment
that is relentless at my core.  
Wisdom only mocks me.
She dances around my doom
singing, “Here lies a foolish boy
who followed freedom to his tomb.”
Now I’m cast to raging seas;
A boat beaten by an angry wave;
unanswered cries like pleas
from crows that cry above my grave.

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Ah, Lord, You know.
But I am left to wonder why
every attempt to be the hero
turns to ashes when I die.
All this foolishness will follow
as I lay down and return to dust
and time is sure to swallow
all these fallacies I trust.

Day after day, I rivel.
Who knows for how long?
Reduced to mere survival
screaming it’s selfish undertone.
Aspiration is long forgotten
If I live, to what avail?
Despair darkens my demeanor
Time and time again, I fail.
Compassion is now contended;
Making less sense than it did before
And those who are offended
break the hinges off my door.
Disappointment - my adornment
as if I’m capable of more..
If only they knew the torment
that is relentless at my core.  
Wisdom only mocks me.
She dances around my doom
singing, “Here lies a foolish boy
who followed freedom to his tomb.”
Now I’m cast to raging seas;
A boat beaten by an angry wave;
unanswered cries like pleas
from crows that cry above my grave.

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Ah, Lord, You know.
But I am left to wonder why
every attempt to be the hero
turns to ashes when I die.
All this foolishness will follow
as I lay down and return to dust
and time is sure to swallow
all these fallacies I trust.

Guards led him to a one-man slam
down a cold concrete, narrow hall..
He checked the sink, threw down his mat,
and scratched "endure it" on the wall..
Between the bitterness of insanity,
he heard a faint whisper in the silence
saying, "what doesn't **** you, heals you"
and that's even true with violence..
He wore a broken heart like black eyes,
you could see it in how he'd walk
with his lowly, desperate demeanor,
looking away every time he'd talk..
He wore every label people gave him,
ignoring that inner voice pleading
saying, "scars are only ugly to those
whose wounds are still bleeding.."
He sang songs to protect his sanity..
hoping it would drown the voices
heard from loved ones in his nightmares
reminding him of his bad choices..
No one really cared to listen..
He was so desperate, he didn't care
for the only love he had, he knew,
was the love that he had to share.  
Loving God means loving people..
Twist it up however you want to,
but there's always hope in hardship
for everything you've ever gone through,
but you have to listen to the whisper -
Not the voices screaming in your head..
My heart cries for the closed mouths
of the hearts that are never fed..
Confess it all and let Him heal you..
Cry out to the One True Savior
The One who can heal the inside
changing natures of those behaviors..
I'm telling you, He'll listen..
He'll give you hope that He keeps secure..
And for the all the storms he don't rebuke,
He gives you strength that you may endure.

The boy could run
but he couldn't walk
Had no time to think
and no room to talk
Passed by more people
than he ever helped
Never knew anything
except for what he felt
But if there's one thing good
we can say about this man
it's that he's long gone now
and, here, we all stand

The boy could run
but he couldn't walk
Had no time to think
No room to talk
Passed by more people
than he ever helped
Never knew anything
except for what he felt
But one thing good
we can say about the man
is that he's long gone now
and, here, we all stand

I'm pacing these floors,
shaking my head,
shifting in my bed,,
trying to figure out
what happened..

what happened?

Obsessed and
aggravated.

What happened?

Why is everybody
so **** mad?
And why do I
always talk so slow?

Autumn moon
lighting up the
purple sky -
along with
lesser lights
watching as I
lost my mind.

All the stars
were in her eyes -
every cosmic cluster
glimmering,
dimming,
then falling
in the night.

Constellations
poured across
her pretty face.
Recklessly,
they’d crash -
splashing on
the ground,
then were gone
without a trace.

Her tender hand
consoled the
pieces left of me -
I just knew the
falling stars would
be the death of me.

Remember me, Darlin',
on rainy days -
when boredom breeds
some restless state of mind..
I pray that, after you take
inventory of mindless tasks
and make another attempt
to recall some fresh memory
of your Old Man,
that you remember me,
even for just a moment -
dismissing my error
with a subtle smile
before whispering,
"****.. I hope he's alright."  

That's love..

That's love more than this is.

We're, every one,
just as afraid as the other
Afraid of each other
The only brave souls
are those who confess it
and are least compromised.

I kept running
through the wilderness,
day after desperate day,
Sometimes I saw
the scenery -
Most times I
was too afraid
Sometimes I felt loved
but then I cringed and
it flew away
But mostly I kept running
day after desperate day

I kept running through
the wilderness,
On passed the concrete grid -
into foreign lands
where no one knew the
things I did
If anyone ever misses me
I'm right here for them to find
In the wilderness just a mile
or two outside my stable mind

With folded arms on my windowsill,
I gaze at a starlit sky so still.
Amidst the awe of wishful wonder,
A question, there, I pose and ponder:
If the autumn moon that gives such light
were the eye of He who gave me sight,
would He not see a sheep asleep
while children die and mother's weep?
And if glimmering stars were angel bands
that laid to waste a wasteful man,
would I not pray that they be blind
to those I've harmed or left behind?

With folded arms on my windowsill,
I saw a tree in the farmer's field
The winter winds had stripped the oak
And, as I believed, I thought and spoke:
If winter winds, in all their might,
lay bare the oaks and fold their height,
then gone would be the leaves of deeds
that hide my thoughts of lust and greed.
And if trees that grow and bear their fruit
were saints that live and speak the truth,
then I would be a withered tree
with bitter fruit and wilted leaves.

Nevermind your broken heart,
my dear -
He was never sent to care.
Just a passerby on winding road
with a destination not so clear.
A road so hazy you can't see your last step,
"Where will you go next?" -
the question of the hour.
"Anywhere but here",
she begged as she wiped away tears from a broken heart she should've just kept.
Kept far away from anyone to misuse,
She's broken again like a shattered mirror.
Thoughts of why she's never enough,
Why she always has to lose.

And if I'll always be psychotic,
let it be no harm to anyone..
Fill my mind with hues of color
and not the pressure of time..
If I'm convinced of any lies,
let it be: this world is fine
I'll bid farewell to sanity
and let the colors fill my mind..

He staggered to
the med-line
and wept bitterly
from his soul
for the hope,
he feared, he'd
never find to fill
that gaping hole.
Somewhere in the
sands of time,
a boy plays at
his father's feet -
when happiness
didn't cost a dime
and he danced to
a different beat.
But that was
years ago -
the song had ended
much too fast.
He refused the meds,
walked real slow, and
cradled his playful past.

He staggered to the med-line
and wept bitterly from his soul
for the hope, he feared, he'd
never find to fill that gaping hole.
Somewhere in the sands of time,
a boy plays at his father's feet -
when happiness didn't cost a dime
and he danced to a different beat.
But that was years ago -
the song had ended much too fast.
He refused the meds, walked real
slow, and cradled his playful past.

And just like that, it's over -
like it didn't even happen.
Traded the rest of his life
for a half a gram - went out
noddin' like he was nappin'..
My heart cries for the family,
Aaron, I miss you, fam.
And, if I could, you know I'd
buy you back for that half a gram.

Just like that, gone forever..
Like he was never here,
a sudden change of weather
we often see this time of year.
My heart cries for your kid,
I'll never forget you, man.
Why men would rather ****
than build, I'll never understand..

Just like that, forgotten..
The girl had gotten sober
Bought some birthday
presents and ******
and just like that - its over.
My heart cries for your baby
Carrie's never coming back.
I wonder if she wore the
bracelet I gave her when
she faded into black.

Just like that, we're praying..
for God to heal our hurt..
a few words about his life and
then we chunked him in the dirt..
I tried to tell you, Bill David..
That girl would get you killed..
Look to God to do the healing
You just be the one who's healed.

Stars don’t shine like they used to..
and these visions in my head are horrid..
and the voices are merciless
telling me it’s all my fault and
that I’ll never find real love.
Whatever that is.
But I’ve been here before.
Take care of yourself, darlin.

Just so you know, you left
my soul a little more broken...
my mind a little more
paranoid and untrusting..
lonely and confused.  
There’s no hope in my eyes
or hop in my step.
But I’ve been here before.  
Take care of yourself, darlin.

"Just keep your love about you."
said the kettle to the ***.
"What you have, you have to give
and charity is all you've got."
"And keep yourself together."
said the kettle to the cup.
"Some day soon you'll find a spoon
that stirs your spirit up."

I have letters in my notebook
that I've never read for you,
I wanted you to read them,
but you had better things to do..
I wrote some of them in red ink,
some of them in black,
and some of them are bitter
'cause you'll never take me back
I've got letters in my notebook
that you'll never want to read
but bitter tears that stained them are all the love I'll ever need..
There's more to life than loneliness,
more to love than who you've lost,
more to hope than disappointment
because a blurry line's been crossed.
I wrote you one more letter -
one you'll never have to read
It reads, "The purest kind of love
is the love you give and don't receive."

I've got letters in my notebook
that I've never read for you,
I wanted you to read them,
but you had better things to do..
I wrote some of them in red ink,
and some of them in black.
Some of them are bitter
'cause you'll never take me back..
I've got letters in my notebook
that you'll never want to read..
but these bitter tears that stained
them are all the love I'll ever need..
There's more to life than loneliness,
more to love than who you've lost,
more to hope than disappointment
because a blurry line's been crossed.
I wrote you one more letter..
one you'll never have to read..
It says, "The purest kind of love
is the love you give and don't receive."

The evening sky
especially beautiful -
Sun rays bursting
through cloudy skies
And still, it was
barely suitable
to reflect from
the bluest eyes

The wild wonderland
of believed dreams with
good outcomes resting
in the minds of poor kids -
patted down like
little mud cakes and shaped in
old pans on culled lumber porches.

Who's ever gonna fix that rail?
No one.

Kids are busy baking cakes
and the older folks couldn't
care less..

Only those in the middle
are blinded by conformity
and set on edge by competition..

But, in this light, who couldn't surrender their darkness
of cold competition to the light and warmth of these lads?

Who wouldn't make way
for such a thing to happen?

Little lights of
hope that will only fade
into the sunset of adulthood
in due time...

But not today.

Not for them.

They have cakes to bake.

I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
feel every embrace.

So believe me
when I say you're
the one I've always
wanted and that
I loved you before
I knew you.

Never mind the
broken heart, my dude..
I guess she wasn't
meant for you.
Just a passerby on
a country road
Who couldn't stay
when passing through..

"Where will you go next?"
The question of the hour..
"Anywhere but here"
he thought, hurt from
all the times they'd fought..
But battles that rage
inside his brain
seem to be the ones
that still remain..

I guess he'll
settle for a friendship,
Tell himself he tried,
and throw his stones
into the ocean till
it decides to change
the tide..
Nothing lasts forever.
At least the things
we take for granted.
We can only hope
the best for any
seeds we've ever planted..

Just chalk it up - a lesson
Sorry I tore it all apart
Hopefully, somehow
its a blessing
Nevermind the
broken h e a r t.

Outside my window,
I hear a lonely dog wail
his tired nightly woes
—
His echoed alarms
interrupt an otherwise
quiet summer night

If I could only
grasp the wind,
then I would know
how freedom feels -

And if I could
know you once again,
it'd take these
blisters off my heels.

For now, I'm lonely -
scratchin' skin
beneath the rags
of where I've been.

Staying outside
my broken mind -
too afraid
of looking in.

If I could only
grasp the wind,
perhaps I'd know
how freedom feels..
And to find it
once again
would take the blisters
off my heels..
For now, I'm lonely -
scratchin' skin
beneath the rags of
where I've been..
Tiptoeing around
a broken mind -
afraid of falling in..

If I could only catch
my breath, perhaps
I'd make my
way back home
And if I could find
you waiting there,
then I'd never
have to roam
For now, I'm tired,
but I keep walking
in search of what
I left behind -
hoping it didn't die
somewhere inside  
my broken mind

I waited for you -
down by the Woodbine
house on Kendrick Avenue.
I must've told myself 
a thousand times
that, when you arrive,
I'd be just fine -
sitting on the stoop
collecting thoughts
like puddles of rain.

Occassionally, a car
would pass, thrashing
through the puddles
slashed interrupting my
hopeful mind with violent
doubt...

I waited for you -
denying every reasonable
thought and holding on
to my childish dreams.

I'm still waiting for you -
Though hope has long
become desperate denial.

I'll wait for you..

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, listen quietly
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
And me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, listen quietly
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
And me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen.

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, listen quietly
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
And me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen

Day 1: not so bad.
Day 2: my body moves without permission.
Day 3: nope.
Day 4: took the bait.
Day 1: massive headache.  
Spat the bait out.
Day 2: not too bad.
Day 3: the toilet seat is so cold.
Day 4: Icy hot doesn't work.
Day 1:  kids are cool.

No strength to be assertive
on the city street,
No way to pull the curtain
when he goes to sleep
No way to know for certain
He'll have food to eat.
No comfort for the hurtin'
blisters on his feet.

Who can know the burden
of the man who lost it all?
Or the sharp edge of the sword
that sliced before his fall?
Who can pick him up when
he's a nervous wreck?
With his fingers in your face,
you can't remove his speck

Who can give him any hope?
he thinks he knows it all
Who can reach a restless man
when he builds his wall?

Like soothing a bawling baby
crying louder than you can speak
Traumatized by anticipation
because his faith is weak
He wants it all or nothing
Such a restless and hungry man
Overcome with shame and fear
of what he'll never understand.

Who would know the struggle?
The apocalyptic rubble..
So sick I'm seeing double
and I haven't had a drink.

Jarred by nightly terror
Scarred by trial and error
Acting on impulse because
I'm too afraid to think.