March 9, 2019

(birds chirping)

I wish you were here, my love

Staring at the empty space above

As above below, I sleep with doors and windows open

room beside me

I wish you were here, my friend

none of us could know it'd be the end

feel it all the time, you see

I'm a neon sign lit 'vacancy'

I wish you were here, my kin

playing in our minds like we were kids

history that binds us still

separated by our time and skill

I wish you were here, my love

Staring at the empty space above

I wish you could feel my touch

tell me, would it ever be enough?

How could you leave?

Doesn't it haunt your memory?

Storms will come that stir the sea,

I'm a neon sign lit 'vacancy'

March 9, 2019

When I wake I am passing time
    in the mirror I watch as it all goes by
before my eyes
In my memory there’s photographs
    of a young, golden time when there was no past
for me to have

No, I’m not the one I was before
Until I’m standing at Heaven’s door
let me in this time, just let it slide
oh, oh

When I’m growing I’m growing old
    lose the spirit and get after what you’re told
to win the gold
Getting shout outs and accolades
    prove your worth at your desk on a sunny day
no time to play

No, I’m not the one I was before
Until I’m standing at Heaven’s door
let me in this time, I crossed the line
Oh no

 

January 19, 2019

Existing in the space between two destinations,
like a layover in an airport terminal,
untethered from the surrounding chaos.
Moving parts coalesce in an impossible synchronization,
of matter big and small, in the process of
delivering what will be to what was.

 

December 8, 2018

(Wane: to have a progressively smaller part of its visible surface illuminated so that it appears to decrease in size; especially of a feeling, to decrease in power or extent, become weaker; to draw to a close, approach an end.)

You sit with your eyes shut tight

contemplating wrong and right

you keep it in, won't make it known

I'm looking out through keyholes

I know you talk it out in code

so willingly leave me along

a silhouette of street-lit bones

I misinterpreted at most

sure, this place is new to me but

I've been here before

fill up my head with screaming doubt

just to come back and let it out

you use your phrases like a knife

and me as the wrist that you slice

sure, this place is new to me but

I've been here before

sure, your face is new to me but

I've met you before

You know that I am no good

I'd fuck your life up if I could

so much for moving forward

in the end we're both prisoners

sure, this place is new to me but

I've been here before

sure, your face is new to me but

I've met you before

sure, it's just...

December 8, 2018

Who touched who's pain first?

Like a dual,
            we both pulled our guns
            and then;    shoot!

November 23, 2018

Brother,

it's not your hat I want to wear

It's the shape of you it holds

I want to keep close and have near

Brother,

it's not your coat I want to keep

It's the warmth it gave you

that I want to feel, too, when I weep

Brother,

it's not your necklace that I need

but the subtle weight of you

reminding you're still here with me

There's an emptiness to everything

I see you in my mind

but with nothing to hold onto

it feels like you've been erased by time

Brother,

I'm not ready for you to leave

I just want to feel some comfort

and I'm not sure where to find relief

November 23, 2018

Heavy as the dampened Earth that lies beside the rushing creek
    that dragged us in its trudging tide
        foreshadowing the passing weeks
Thrown around like dolls in play, limping limbed and messy haired
    clothed in old and tattered threads
        hollowed out by wear and tear
Stillness from the breaking dawn that settled into sleeping bones
    began to stir in whistling winds
        that howled down the dusty roads
Fading ink that stained the page with blackness like the dead of night
    suggested language barriers
        in setting the scene just right

The plans all fell by wayside woes
    like disintegrating aged photos
        with ways that parted like the seas
            and lives that passed as though a breeze
If I were to kneel and pray
    the only...

November 5, 2018

The night here is inky black. Rich and uninterrupted by the glowing haze of electric light. 

In the late season it seeps into everything quicker and stays longer. Staining the world, saturating it in darkness. 

What is this color, this pure black that grows evermore pervasive in and around me as the days pass? As if an entity of its own, it descends upon us enveloping everything until it lifts like fog in the morning sun. A brief intermission.

I've become curious, skeptical even of the behavior of this darkness. How does it change? Where does it linger? When, why? It is a character in the story, a neighbor, a natural force. What do I know about the night? 

Now, I begin a study. 

November 3, 2018

The world weeps for you today. Tiny droplets hang heavy from every dampened branch, barren in this cold lifeless season. Where did you go to anyway? Perhaps you're wrapped up now in the soft gray blanket of clouds overhead. Your laugh resounds in my mind, from times when you were better. 

In the Spring almost two decades ago we sat in smaller bodies beside one another. Butterflies were being released into the air to help us understand the loss of a friend, too young. I still don't understand.

So many of us are left behind now in an emptier space, watching as the sun sets on the brief day we all shared in your light.

October 8, 2018

Leaves rustle gently in a crisp breeze. A low, golden sun soaks them in light. Everything shimmers in its haze. The cool air is breathed into me, and I can feel it circulating through my parts. On exhale it appears before me in a brief, white wisp. Then is gone. Piece of me dissipating into the ever expansive ether. The dark seeps in, and all is enveloped by the night.
 

October 6, 2018

Resting now, where gravity has sunk you, the dust settles.

Suspended in midair linger slowly descending particles.

Refracting and revealing re-imagined worlds:

Subterranean seafloor blue, or sun soaked dirt road beige.

Icy grey, like mountain summit mists.

Wherever you may be at this particular moment.

Seeing, as if with new eyes, the quality of the light.

September 16, 2018

Looking at the moon as it hangs its crescent face at me

hanging low and swaying in the late September autumn breeze

I still think of you sometimes and how we'd talk and how we'd fight

and plead:

I hope you're well, I hope you'll find your happiness, your peace of mind

for me

Though we go our separate ways with nothing left for us to say tonight

I hold you close inside my heart, we could never be apart in life

Looking at the field as the sun sinks low and gold, so green

so much space before me opens up inside my mind, I'm free

I still think of you sometimes and how we'd laugh and how we'd cry

and plead:

I hope you're well, I hope you'll find your happiness, your peace of mind

for me

Though we go our separate ways with nothing left for us to say tonight

I hold you close inside my heart, we could never be apart in life

September 5, 2018

back and forth

like bullets racing 

prepped for impact

always bracing

silence comes, 

precedes destruction...

the final blow:

a pause, then nothing 

September 5, 2018

Butterflies turned to earthquakes

Shaken to the core 

Guts spilling messily

like an unraveling ball of yarn

My most precious gems were stolen

Innocence and trust 

by a thief who acted 

with love a guise for lust 

September 5, 2018

My fingers fiddle with the lock

in a desperate attempt to decode

where I thought we would “click” 

but instead something got stuck 

and I am shut out again

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