Sunday, April 17, 2016

Eating With The Fork In The Road

Eating With The Fork In The Road

Meandering my way, stumbling along,
I came upon a fork,
and started eating with it.

They say you are what you eat.
But, what you eat with matters too.
That fork—it is not you.

Eating with a fork in the road,
tine and tine again.

Moving forward—all but possible.
I cannot.

A reminder:
No one should eat alone.

Take this lesson from me.
Do not pick up and sup,
with that fork in the road.

Depressing who I am,
engulfed by anxiety,
aggrandized— to be.

Everyone I meet,
I see through the tines of another time.

To go left, right,
or even turn back round.
This heart would have healed.

But no one can sup forever,
at the fork in the road.
A single tine to take,
that time we make
-or...give away.

A decision must be made.
Letting go is free.

Break from my past.
Tomorrow, BreakFast.
I will be—me.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

A piece entitled: Facebook Memories, Trying To Ruin A Perfectly Good February 14th. Or: The Cold Hearted Bitch Strikes Again. Or: Why Must You Remind Me Who I Really Am?

A piece entitled:
Facebook Memories, Trying To Ruin A Perfectly Good February 14th.
Or: The Cold Hearted Bitch Strikes Again.
Or: Why Must You Remind Me Who I Really Am?

What is your motivation?
Bringing back,
-back to days I thought my life was more complete.
-back memories—dirt.
Turning over these thoughts
I had finally buried them;

Waiting for
-lost; comforting tone.
-lost; return'd home.
The burden borne  a welcome heart.
-Brought fear of new to start.

Far too often begs the question,
longing to go back home.
A heart in need of direction.
Soul longing fore-forgotten tone.

I cannot!
-The phrase of folly.
-An act of weak.

How am I a broken man,
-yet to break a single bone.
Intangible—matters of the heart.
Taken from;
given art.

Nothing has changed.
-I am me.
-I am.

I am this heart.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

To Save a Life: Paradox of Emotion

In the past ten years I have witnessed a great deal of loss. I suppose that I must be thankful that the people closest to me (my immediate family and friends) have been relatively safe and in good health in this season. Still, a knot in my stomach seems to grow larger, every time I learn of death within a few orders of separation from those I have grown to love. Perhaps it should simply make me more thankful that my loved ones are alive and well, but every time I experience death--directly or transiently--I dread more the day that a family member or close friend comes to pass.

I wonder how my emotions will fly. I think about how my life will change. I wonder how the lives of others will change. I worry about how I will react. I know that there is most definitely a chance that I will spiral out of control. The ever-growing knot in my stomach--anticipation--is a warning sign. I cannot let that happen--I want to be able to honor my loved ones after they pass on. So I write to ready my heart, to calm my mind.


No words.

Raw emotion, speak!

A moment in the night—carry on, into the next day.
Tears forced out; memories flush the mind.

A shock to my heart when yours failed to start.
My heart heavy—all but broken.
A feeling so deep,
with a hole to be fixed by nothing spoken.
—Hope, hear my cry.

Light of my life, paint this midnight sky.
Show me that which has not gone awry.

Pit in my stomach—begin to wonder,
"when will this end?"
Reality, a blunt sword sinks in,
—forever changed and never again.

Mind to wander;
stumbling from the path of today.

Pebble in my shoe: I cannot forget you

I see us together.
— a beach, the sun, the light

Idealist moment, burst forth with blazing light.
To make a reality,
— trying,
— holding  on with all that I am.
Just the thought that I might.
Enough to make me try o'er again.

The past speaks truth.

Nothing one can do,
to save the fleeted life:


Sunday, November 1, 2015

The pain of healing

Ice cold,  my bones.
This heart is so brittle,
my voice is shaking.

Cannot hear,
the sound of my breath.
I breathe so slow,
but I'm not dead yet.

Take for today,
as what I am.

Sing for tomorrow,
I barely can.

Not really gone,
yet no longer here.

The sound of the past simply
slipping away. A loss so welcome,
these memories gone away.

Emotion cast into the wind,
the tears turn to dust.

Skip a beat, my heart won't trust.
Another day, live I must.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Untitled 8

I opened up to you what once we're scars. My heart began to race.
I'd smile, laugh, and even cry because I loved your face. 

I can't remember life before you because of the pain from when you left. I don't want to remember life without you because when we were together it was the best. 

I used to smile when you crossed my mind. Now I clench my teeth, hold back tears, and promise myself I'm fine. 

I don't quite understand what happened. Why are you not here? I loved you from the first day, now it's love I fear. 

These old scars an image of what life is not. A reminder to cherish what I've got. These wounds made deeper by a knife red and hot. 

Passion is my vice. Change—I cannot.
When I wake upyour face on my mindthe pain runs me over no less than ten times. 

I can smile, I can laugh, I can cry about the past. But one thing is for sure, I'll never have it back—what I thought was mine.

My heart is far from mended. My spirit caught in the past.

I do not like this feeling, I wish I knew how long it would last.

Two years flew by and the pain is no less real.

At the very least I know that I can still feel.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Untitled 7

Apocalypse of the heart,
Stop pretending,

You are worth all but naught,
For this, every battle I  have fought,

I think , to lose you;
A nightmare,
Never ending,

So I will walk on,
Until the end of the earth breaks into dawn,

Die and come back,
And once again,
If only to prevent losing you,

-My friends

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Untitled 6

Feet slowly walk,
No two steps are the same.
Mouths move to talk,
Asking why we came.

Wind steadily marching,
Wintery air to take.
Spring slowly starting,
What of this shall we make?

A summer's sunrise,
Things of the forgotten past,
Burnt into the mind, memorize,
Was this meant to last?

With only one way to know,
We walk on, as we must.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Untitled 5

I cannot.

I cannot!



A season's change, all is strange.
Falling leaves,
A place for snow,
That melts my heart,
At summer's start.

I do not know what I am doing.
Why am I even here?
This place:
once a figment of my imagination.

Now clear.

To fathom the answer.
Life's greatest question.


The answer is feared
-by fear himself.


Life's great escape;
no, never a mistake.


Saturday, March 28, 2015

Untitled 4

I don't think you're hearing me
I'm basically saying not to worry:
disaster is the norm.

After every calm is a new storm.
-High's become low,
down is the only new place to go.

There is no end,
-only a cycle.

The waves and wind crack a whip.

We go on and on,
as life
the never
heartbreak song

Disaster is the norm.
Inevitable storms.

The only right conclusion,
-each day is an open door.

walk the threshold,

"anxiety away!"

And gone is the death-hold.


Monday, March 9, 2015

Untitled 3

A memory is more powerful than existence, it transcends such mortal things. That which results from a connection is much greater than the connection itself.

I would not be where I am today if connections had not been made, pulled me further, and then broken. I am me because death exists, connections are broken, and my heart's handles are free.

Anchored by the memory of what once was, I am subject to the will of the winds. Wherever connections are made, I will travel. When they are broken, I will be pulled in yet another direction.

Each and every connection that is formed yields a wave, beating on ceaselessly into the past. Having contributed a verse, the cause claimed; eventually forgotten.

The beauty is that loss yields room for gain. Another stirs; memories conceived.

Life's play will go on.