Something in us changed
I’m not sure when, but
it happened in an instant
and lasted a lifetime.
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I am an illusion
It took losing
everything,
to come to the conclusion
that I am an illusion
and we’ve always had
— from the beginning —
everything
to gain.
Everyday is Halloween
All this life it seems I’ve been running away
Thought I could turn it off
Pour me a cheap escape
Fine tune this sort of self therapy
It never goes away for long
An undying mother’s love
Nursed me warm when I was not
At 13 I learned a lot
To have and to have not
Yet still I’m dreaming of
His wake —
I tried to look into the psychic’s eye
Try to figure out what’s going on inside
He sold me fame and fortune, it’ll be alright
Still I wound up bound and down
Screaming never made a sound
I feel freedom in the clouds
A kiss really meant help me out
Some fell in love and some fell down
But I’m not looking for that now
Another needle in the crowd
Another burden, a life
released —
I had a girl you see, she was better than not
She gave me all she could in a parking lot
I forced myself to try but it was never enough
Yellow light flickered around
We were kids no one talked about
An endless stream of aimless doubt
Like a weight dragging me down
When all I wanted was an out
She burned quickly then burnt out
But she was pretty
I was lucky, she was free —
Daylight savings time in another month
I’ve been killing time since I was young
Never quite so sure who I was or what
he meant by get away from me
Or rather feeling the relief
His coarse beard upon my cheek
In the mirror what I see
Sometimes it isn’t me
I try my hardest to believe
A half hearted destiny
There’s a reason or a message
To be —
I turn myself around, spin it upside down
Try to feel awake the best I know how
Still that echo rings in one ear then out
This haunting jealousy
For everyone who isn’t me
For everyone I long to see
I keep them safe within a dream
Scrubbing never kept them clean
My hands is what I mean
Everyday is Halloween
Except I can’t wear my mask
and see —
So I’mma take a walk, drown myself in thought
kick rocks until I figure out the plot
I’ve held this silver plate as long as I can take
It never helped me in the end
I’d have to die to make amends
Till then I’ll cheers to friends
A forced smile helps you fit in
Sometimes it’s better to pretend
We don’t break until we bend
His choice is my defense
For choosing, to live
The end.
Grey hours of day
What’s there left to say
on days like today
Where everything stops
the light just turns grey
The moon and the mind
become one entwined
with fear as bright as the stars
So come with me now
still I have my doubts
But isn’t it fun
sometimes to run
Where no one can see
just listen to me
for once I’ve got nothing to say
It’s all just
too much to take
On days as grey as today
Where no one
gets what they want
they all just walk in the park
Ain’t it better here in the dark?
There’s a place and a time
in the back of my mind
where you and I hide
when you’re so inclined
It’s a place where the grey
hours of day, commit not to say anything.
So come with me there
forget all your fears
Knock-knock orange you glad
I’ve got the blues bad
Just stay with me now
and let’s talk about
anything other than this
These days I don’t think I’ll miss.
beauty pinned in a box
Pour-pour-pour
until my memory flows
black with the silence
where nobody goes.
Just give me more-more-more
and no I don’t wanna talk
I don’t wanna turn back
like these hands on the clock.
There’s always something else
another book on the shelf
it’s either fact or fiction
neither one’s any help.
Cause really I’d rather not
and I can’t bear the thought
all these wheels turning
but mine never shut off.
They say to walk the walk
if you’re gonna talk
always hateful and violent
beauty pinned in a box.
They were such delicate wings
see that sweet little thing
that you nurse like a virus
that could never be me.
So I just pour-pour-pour
and I quit asking what for
everything for a reason
not all reason makes sense.
If I’m half truth and fake
how much more would it take
to convince you I’m bad news
I’m your biggest mistake.
So give me more-more-more
things eventually bore
and all this method acting’s
become more like a chore.
See there’s this figure eight
I’m ruled and can’t escape
like the number thirteen
I see all over the place.
I’ve learned it’s better to walk
for miles— comfort —in thought
leaving alone the people
happier when you’re not,
around like a clown
bringing everyone down
I’m not bitter I’m better
glad to sit this one out.
So just go-go-go
go-go-go-go-go
go-go-go-go-go-go-go
go-go-go-go-go.
from the grassy knoll
A wave of relief rushes over me
and I haven’t smiled so hard,
as when a flock of morning dove
flutter from the grassy knoll
and fly overhead.
His final farewell
I recall the calm
as I recall the storm.
Lead foot hesitation,
the slamming of doors.
Endangered are many
who’ve less stayed for more.
Excuses are fatal,
not ours anymore.
See I recall quiet
death and coffin smell,
his mustache, beard shaven
estranged from the crowd.
Was I the unwelcome?
The burden? Expelled?
His name once my keeper
I’ve written it well.
Yes I recall freedom
wished upon a star,
a second floor window
alone in the dark.
The price no one bargained
unimaginably hard,
his soul like a raven
still blackens my heart.
A kid and a coffin
for now I recall,
the parlor room floor
dead silence in awe.
While tears spill to carpet
and jittering jaw,
echoed through the parlor
with no sign of God.
I recall the calm
the storm never ends,
it grows like a Cancer
bad thoughts fill my head.
His final farewell
is my cross to bear,
how no son of mine
shall feel such fear.
two drifters anew
Their love before friends
as it always begins
then the world spun round
again and again.
Friends for the last
few phases of moon
the universe beckons
neither one to choose.
Spoken rather wisely
alone though in tune
while the world spun again
with nothing to lose.
Eyes look to the West
in Africa too
Eyes look to the East
this Hollywood noon.
There’s nothing to pardon
and no more to do
angelic they parted —
two drifters anew.
a flask & letter
Your life is filled with
(secret)
quiet alcoholics
(secret)
closet drug addicts
(secret)
depressed poetics
fearful dramatics
queer heretics
aimless combatants
insufferable habits
(secret)
little bunny rabbit.
Oh, my life is full
and filling up —
sure ain’t cheap these days —
3.50 here
4.65 a gallon there, thus
I’m riding on empty,
with a flask
& letter
returns
to send her
tucked gently in the glove box
(where my secret (secret) stays).
that old hotel
Each drive cross country
I’ve laughed, I have
Cried
Sang
Danced
Purged
Prayed
Lost and
Loved.
Etcetera,
etc…
So if you decide
to drive across state lines,
could you do me a solid?
Stop in Fayetteville.
See if that old hotel
is still standing,
the one I first told her I loved her,
—bedbugs and us—
before sleep took her away
and that cheap wine
nursed me tender
til morning’s
cruel light.
But how will you know
that old hotel? Well,
it’s just like all the rest now
I’m sure, remodeled to dust.
Another ghost among the many,
love’s whisper in the wind.
Words Of An Average White Male 