I accept
I am
The problem.
Therefore
I am
The solution.
The Solution.
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Tag Archives: mind
Broken Hearts
One day
When ready
I’ll tell you a story.
A story of a boy
Who never stopped running.
I’m just not ready
To break your heart.
The Freedom They Lost
The more I looked the more I noticed
people defending their freedom to speak—
when in fact it seemed and showed so clearly—
from their trembling hands to their worried eyes—
that they had given up their freedom to think for themselves—
and became defenseless, bold, and unexplainably proud—
having lost their voice long before it could ever be taken.
Solace’s Depths
People might never understand
sincere isolation or solace’s depths
until they find themselves
most comfortably within
their own weightless bounds of solitude.
A Tale of Two Cities—Broken from Birth
People were always
Dying to get in, or
Dying to get out.
Nobody ever wanted
To be where they were—
And it was always that way—
It was A Tale of Two Cities.
Cruel and hostile, broken
From birth—The bread
When shared, had long since spoiled.
So left were the people’s
Disgruntled denial, who’d sacrifice
Even their own mothers love—for lies—
Because, the truth was tough
and too hard to swallow.
And it was never their fault.
But neither was it His.
My very American illusion of happiness
Nothing feels good tonight.
Nothing sits well.
Nothing but myself and beer
to drown away my very American illusion
of happiness—my dear, I’m not sorry.
Please understand.
Our Gestation Period
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.
Wind Chimes
Wind Chimes float—
With effortless ease—
It’s something we—
Could never quite be—
Two souls swirling
In the restless ear of want.
Huckleberry Heels
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
for John Fante
Perhaps I’ve said too little,
perhaps I’ve said too much.
Whichever be the case Fante,
perhaps I’ll Ask The Dust.
Words Of An Average White Male 