A Prayer Before Sleep

Jack searched the neighborhood as if he’d lost something.

Looking up and down the street, crossing sidewalks, he meandered auspiciously as if he’d forgotten where he was going.

Jack found himself in a state of neither here nor there.

The chill of February hung round his shoulders like a thin shawl.

It was his morning walk but to what ends—to what means?

Tires squealed in the distance.

Birds began their daily routine.

Automatic lights turned themselves off.

And what emerged from the tree line? Sure enough, as it had so many times before, the sun.

Jack knew that it would be long before the sun warmed his chapped fingers but at least it shed some light on his path.

Nothing was right or wrong, indeed, it was too early for such nonsense.

But still Jack did all he could to remember what he was looking for and why he’d been so eager to rise this morning before his alarm clock could shout obscenities to his ear.

It was the reflection of the sun off an old car window which caused him to touch his brow, where when removed, his hand revealed a thin layer of blood.

He couldn’t remember how or when he’d received such a gash, which the window now showed, laughingly.

Realizing where he was, he’d found what he’d been looking for, though it was as fragmented, cracked, and littered as the sidewalk that led him home.

Before entering the thought of knocking crossed his mind, but why? He lived here. This was his home.

The house was silent except for Jack.

He laid in bed as if it were the evening and since he wasn’t a praying man, he sang softly to himself.

It was more or less what praying had done for any other man before him, and would do for anyone else who’d find him thereafter.

It was then he turned off his alarm clock and shut his eyes.

THE END.

These Veil Thin Times

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

Hotel outside Orlando, 2011

The things I can not change

The things I can not change

remind me why I’m here.

They are but the souls

reminder—to stay the course.

October 2020

Love is a language

Love is a language

a well written play

worn like a curtain

pulled closed on a stage

the cheering erupts

thrown roses at bay

behind a closed curtain

life’s finest display.

Mac On Happy High

I’m wishing well in vain.

Take this pill

another one

you’ll see tomorrow

the rising sun

it washes over

everyone

regardless of their creed.

If I sang to you

in metaphor

or parable

I must implore

the meaning that

your searching for

exists only in faith.

So sure yeah I’ll

take half a drag

if you could promise

no aftermath

you’re a stupid kid

if you think that

anyone’s playing for keeps.

We called it love

but it was more

her beauty filled

my eyes with warmth

the tears that spill

are evermore

like leaves on the fall breeze.

If I told you once

I’d tell you twice

it’s meaningless

yeah my advice

it’s hogwash still

I swill it down

like champagne I am cheap.

There’s no reason to hang your head

Or spend all day in your bed

Because some things you can’t change

No matter what nothing is sane

No regret is meaningless

I mean the thought alone is evidence

That people never change

No matter how near or far away

And Ritalin works wonders for

The child who must be ignored

If the class is to progress

There’s no time to spare in jest

At first it feels like an accident

Then tragedy cranes her neck

It’s a problem you can’t solve

Because there’s nothing to be solved

Nobody gets quite what they deserve

A coin toss isn’t so absurd

If your winning it makes sense

If not you up your bet

You know that feeling in your head

The one that tells you you’re ahead

Before the obvious is said

Before the obvious is said

So

Take me with

a grain of salt

the shaker’s spilled

on everyone

who’s ever lost

or ever won

the menu’s all the same.

And I’ll take it now

for what it’s worth

this death I feel

as a rebirth

now everyone

I ever hurt

I’m wishing well in vain.