Home » Posts tagged 'men' (Page 4)
When I found her like
a set of lost keys,
it was a mystery even to her
where she’d been hiding
or who left her there—but
I knew that look, as I’d worn once—
and it wasn’t me anymore.
So I let her sleep.
And I let her eat.
Then after her strength regained,
I walked her to the wood,
and watched her twirl with the wind—
of all that remained,
and all she’d forgotten—
like a dizzy spell I’d soon be too.
Silence falls like snowflakes
Covering the field
Where birds like statues watch
My huckleberry heels
With frost left underfoot
The hallow ground revealed
Where doe tread light as feather
And sun spill bleeds me home
What I’ll never have answers for
Happened in the split of a second
And broke me for a lifetime in two
I can pick up the pieces sometimes
Mostly I have the strength, except
These other sometimes when
It all comes pouring out, when words
Make sense just enough to suffer again
A little less each time, though time
Time is often wearing me veil thin—
Like a dusting of snow covers ice—
I’m that unsuspecting victim
Trudging through a never ending dreamscape
Sidestepping, cautious through life
There’s always a story to tell.
Always,
A story…
To tell—
I’ll always remember that day
And keep it as a reminder—
That day in which you looked my way
And I didn’t have a clue who you were
And you didn’t have a clue who I was
That day in which our eyes told stories—
As to what is most important.
So if and when we lose our way, I know
Together we’ll find ourselves again—
Where eyes can say what words cannot express—
And stories, we, can only tell together.
Most things can’t be unsaid,
though in my heart—
under the mess I’ve made—they
can be understood, in time
with patience and surrender.
I’ll always surrender.
I just haven’t got the skin,
I just haven’t got the heart
not to know better.
Men in the park
grip brown paper bags
certain as Catholic nuns
grasp their faith,
both counting one
by one, until neither
makes any difference
in the course of eternity.
Two paths, one park bench—
Angelic in their own rite.
Where are we
but forever
Alone, together
in the cosmos
of our love.
How can a man
give so much of himself
to the past, and so little
to his future?
The answer
can be found as quickly
as a needle in hay.
It’s a needle
that always draws a little blood.
For the majority of my adult life I have lived in impoverished communities, mainly because it’s what I am able to afford. I have seen, felt, and heard the cries of both men and women, alone in gutters, pulling the arms of children onward to a life not many of us will ever lead. Some of course have made choices leading them down this path, others are facing hard times, but I see the majority of them, just as I see myself, as I see my loved ones, as common people. So regardless of the outcome of an election, regardless of the winning or losing side, I still see many men, women, and innocent children who will continue to suffer either way. I do my best to spare what little I have to offer, be it a dollar or two, a bottle of water, or even a smile which seems to go even further than the former because at least they know that they are seen, and like so many of us often feel, we like those less fortunate are not forgotten. So just be a decent person, treat people with dignity and respect, regardless of their current standings in life. Do what you can to leave the world a better place than it was yesterday. And be well, my friends. Be humble and aware. And give more than you receive, when possible. With love, gratitude, and thanks to all who’ve graced my path, and who I continue to think of daily.
Words Of An Average White Male 