some
are on a quest
to disappear.
no matter
how high you climb
or help them,
they will one day rise
past the clouds
and dissipate
into the ether —
as a mother weeps
cradling her newborn.
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This is it.
If I could start over
it wouldn’t
make a difference.
This is it.
This is how
it was always
meant to be.
Like Greek Mythology,
three sisters
have spun, measured, and cut
my fate.
I no longer hum
those daytime dirges,
but in sleep hear brilliant concerto’s
covered by the night.
Clarity
Perhaps
The only true clarity
Is that
Among madness
measured in peanuts
It takes more courage
to know your worth
and walk away
than to stay, resentful
knowing that your worth
is being measured in peanuts
pain and suffering
If all you have learned from pain and suffering, is pain and suffering, you may not have been paying close enough attention. It’s easier than not to be distracted by pain in the midst of true suffering. And true suffering can come and go like an univited guest whom you immediately tell to leave, but pause for a moment. Instead of shunning, try welcoming it. If you can listen long enough, you will understand that all your pain and suffering is valid, and in turn more valuable than a room full of welcome guests. It can teach you many things but first you must learn how to listen and that in itself is yet another form of pain and suffering, one that with patience, and practice, can be somewhat managable. It all just depends on who’s speaking because your pain and suffering is not mine, and mine is not yours, but if you listen closely I believe you’ll see we aren’t so different, we aren’t nearly as alone.
a caged dove
Not all the people
you need, can stay
in your life for keeps
they too have places to be
thay can’t always, always be
it gets easier to juggle
some days, others
it’s impossible, until
you’re able to see
that need was never meant to be
your burden, so it’s yours to release
if and when you can
like a caged dove
whose only wish it is to fly
into that holy land.
a cat cradling yarn
Don’t fool yourself
I’m always listening
like a cat cradling yarn
I can get tangled too
but understand this
I have not the time
nor patience, for hollow eyes
or condescending felines,
who’ve been cute in their foolery
though you sir, are not
so as I walk away, I thank you
for your time, believe it or not
I’ve been listening my whole life,
and you’re a tangled mess
that I refuse to fool myself into believing otherwise.
Pillow Talk
Alone, is where
everything makes sense.
It is all the other times
that haunt me!
But I’m sleeping better now,
with a few lone nightmares
tucked under my pillow.
Just in case
I get lost in a dream again.
Just in case
I forget how to wake.
Will you, be there to haunt me?
Or have I just been alone
after all this time?
Whether or not you noticed, partner!
I’m kneeling where I stand.
alone, reading quietly
I saw you today,
behind the page of a book you sat
hair tied back in a tight pony,
legs crossed in black leggings
corderoy red dress and bomber jacket.
But I knew better than to say hello.
We’ve been there before, and you
looked like you were doing just fine
sitting alone, reading quietly
commuting to work
or whatever it is you do now.
An Exhibition of Age
She examines her shoulders
her breasts, each time
she comes exposed from the
cool chlorinated water.
She’s aged but not old, tan
but not that dirty brown leather type
lifting her arms to slick back her hair,
each gesture is strategically planned
as not to exhibit the slightest idea
of wrinkles or tear of stretched skin.
It’s important for her to feel young, almost essential.
It’s as clear as the ripples of water she leaves behind
as she folds to the comfort of a faded maroon lounger, the
heat of the sun slowly dries the beads of water
which spider like tears upon her olive thighs,
and disappear into the fading afternoon.
Words Of An Average White Male 