That Day

I was walking a hopeful road that day.

It felt almost like a dream beside her

looking at the ocean, high above the city below.

Tall blades of grass swayed golden in the sun.

From that high up the ocean appeared silent,

and the black dots riding waves were people

gliding against the tranquil bed of water.

Like a stenographer I listened while she spoke

nodding in agreement, wanting her to like me.

We talked all about everything that day

and she sang Life Is A Highway while I blushed.

It’s hard to read you, she said. But I didn’t mind.

Because the world seemed new and exciting,

like nothing else mattered but our feet and the ground.

Everyone else was COVID crazy but

we had that, before the first kiss feeling

that no one can deny, that nothing could dismantle—

you know, that private little world between ignorance and bliss.

Nobody quite wore a baseball cap like her.

Or looked at me with such uncertain eyes,

like she knew then I couldn’t be trusted.

Or perhaps she thought I was it?

The future took a different course

when the surf died down and the people disappeared.

No wave can last forever, but

it’s remembering those tiny moments,

the inside jokes, and playful voices.

It’s remembering the good stuff,

while the bad we just let rest.

It’s remembering we’re human,

human enough to forgive,

and human enough to be civil.

It’s the poems written in bed

and the songs sung in our infancy—

The Essence Of Her Core (unpublished).

It’s knowing I’ll see her again, as friends

and I’ll be glad to hear her voice,

to see her smile, and know she’s well.

The road may not be ours together anymore

but that doesn’t mean the road’s less hopeful.

That doesn’t mean that I’ll stop walking.

this god damn ghost of me

if i could live with someone’s hope

forever till we part

i’d at least be able to see

beyond the ashes on my fingertips

and the cough tucked under-sleeve,

perhaps then maybe i could sleep?

longer than it takes to wake and find

who i’m not, or who i’d rather be—

cause it’s such a drag to smile

then to give a laughing nod,

that even when i do it’s like

my mind just says enough—

so when sitting becomes quiet

with my shadow and the curb

i hear within the darkest corner

that hope i don’t deserve.

and if i know you well enough

i know you’ll disagree,

still hopelessly devoted to

this god damn ghost of me.

and it’s hardly ever good enough

in retrospect you’ll see

that hope distilled in all of us

is that in which i bleed—

banana cream pie

with the sun in my eyes—

in they come and

out they go,

these spirits wrapped

in skin-clothes.

whether drinking coffee

sipping wine, or

devouring slices of pie

they come in droves

regardless of the day.

and I only wonder

about them

for as long as my cup ring

takes to disappear,

by that time they’ve too.

then it’s back to my text

of peace and war

full of satire, humor

and the ambiguity between.

while I’m left thinking—

sex sounds good, but

banana cream pie sounds better.

Courage, enough.

I haven’t the words

Nor strength to stand

Any more

Of this illusion

Sealed in spit

And sketched by hand

Our world is done

What courage has man?

Our Love Never Wasn’t

I haven’t seen you in a long time, to be frank I’m enjoying the silence.

I can’t commit to the truth it lies, cause it feels kind of like we are dying.

If I made you blue, I never wanted to.

It’s just love and our love never wasn’t.

There’s disappointment in her eyes, as he speaks she echos with silence.

Neither one is good at goodbyes still they always seem to be trying.

I will remember you, if you remember too.

It’s just love and our love never wasn’t, it’s just love and our love never wasn’t.

There’s a melody, in a harmony.

It’s just love and our love never wasn’t.

He sang to her a lullaby, she did all she could to stop crying.

They fell asleep in the moonlight, just two heartstrings played on violin.

Some day you’ll see, in a memory.

It’s just love and our love never wasn’t.

Flipping Birds

The only places to go now

Are those best traveled alone

Where a fork in the road need

Neither argument nor discussion

And where judgements pass

With tumbleweeds and dust that

Dissolve like cars with the horizon

Thumbing South of nowhere

And flipping birds, eh

I’ll be just fine.

From the corner…

I can see you laughing from

the corner of your smile

And it’s not the kind of laughter that

means hang around a while

And it’s not the kind of laughter that

says let me lend a hand

It’s the kind of smile that

tells you to drop dead—

I can see you laughing from

the corner of your eye

And it’s not the kind of laughter

that is taken by surprise

And it’s not the kind of laughter

that breaks before it bends

It’s the kind of sideways glare

that kills you from within

Cause I can see you laughing

and I hope it serves you well

In corners we’re all suffering

but I’m not laughing now

What feels right is wrong

Do they make you feel less?

Overwhelmed and unimpressed

like being anywhere else would have

you feeling overdressed?

We always know the problem

but never how to solve them.

We offer salutations which

just form another problem—

When you’re left feeling more

like love’s less than a chore,

the answer’s in the subtlety

as subtle as before—

We always play along

like life’s a lonely song.

You’re singing to a choir if

what feels right is wrong.

What Could Possibly Matter More Than Meaning What You Don’t Have The Answers For?

What’s the point in asking the question

If your voice is already defeated

I’d go blind just trying to see it

You know everyone is trying to beat it—

If there’s pain then that means there’s a reason

If there’s truth then it’s hard to believe in

Still it’s hard not to relive this feeling

Where everyone everyone’s stealing—

It’s like selling your grief for a grievance

Why the hell would you even break even

Doing all we could to deceive them

It’s all wasted time wasting time healing—

It’s like playing pretend dressed in your skin

Or saying the pledge of allegiance

When there’s no one to please or believe in

It only matters as much as you mean it