Dec 03 2009
They gather and
scratch at the edges
and doors of my dreams
Slipping through the
cracks and crevices
blocking the light
bringing the dark
and the Doubts
And I comfort
the useless,
worthless
frightened me
Tell her to
be brave –
that it’s just a
dream
And dreams can
be chased
by the light of
day.
But she doesn’t
believe me
and keeps a
watchful eye
on the Moon.
Copyright 2009
Nov 22 2009
When hello is goodbye
I chase after them
to be my friends
I let go and there
is nothing there
I fall and no one
catches me
When I love you
is I hate you
betrayal is an odd
acquaintance
Doubt is the daily
drink
Confusion guides
all decisions
When the past
is your comfort
the eyes miss
the moment
the now slips by
unnoticed
and tears
never stop
copyright 2009
Oct 31 2009
Perfection does not live
here
But I do
Mistakes are not
strangers
but constant companions
Words trip and fluster
at furious speed
Flaws
too many to name
Stammers and stutters
make their own tunes
Regrets wait in the wings
and anxiously.
The past simmers in a pot
on the stove
its aroma taunts and
begs me
to taste
copyright 2009
Oct 07 2009
I walked away.
So what?
Away from the mind games and the hate games.
The games.
Always the games.
Sorry to interupt your pity party,
but what are you feeling sorry for yourself about?
Silence goes both ways.
I finally answered the silence with my own.
Are you really surprised?
Is it such a shock that
your indifference
and rejection
finally returned to you in kind?
That I would let go
once I realized
my grasp held nothing?
Nothing, just empty space.
Can’t lose something you don’t have.
Can you?
You lost your voice a long time ago.
I don’t hear you.
I don’t see you.
I don’t want to.
Move on.
I have.
copyright 2009
Jul 30 2009
I cannot see
the forest for the trees
my vision obscures
the leaves encroach
I cannot hear
the truth in the clamour
my heart is a drum
my ears eat the thunder
I cannot taste
the tears of victory
my mouth will not open
my appetite absconds
I cannot touch
the stars that entice
my path eludes me
my darkness leads
I cannot smell
the roses that beg pause
my words are thorns
my thoughts black earth
I cannot know
what refuses to be known
my mind is a question
the answers refuse
copyright 2009
Jul 15 2009
I want my quiet back
and the injustice of the
unvarnished truth
Where lies cannot
flourish
and schemes do not
survive
Where love is not
betrayal
and time is not
my master
I want my quiet back
and the starkness
of what is
of now
of tomorrow
Where regret does not
live
doubt is not
welcome
and life is
an open door
copyright 2009
Jul 14 2009
Why?
is my question
Why?
is the answer
I need
Why?
is what keeps me
in bondage
Why?
keeps me awake
and asking
Why?
is what I will
never know
copyright 2009
Jul 06 2009
You only wanted me
until you had me
until I said yes
until I was yours
forever
You only loved me
from very afar
at arm’s length
in your mind
from the world of what if?
You only touched me
when I wasn’t there
when I couldn’t respond
when it no longer mattered
You only needed me
until I needed you
until I reached out
until I proved imperfect
flawed
and unlovable
copyright 2009
Jun 11 2009
Broken sleep
dreams deprived
of dimension
Looking for home
I want to go home
Where is home?
Mind aims askew
time ticks away
Focus lost
Looking for home
I want to go home
Where is home?
Mistakes logged
no do-overs
doomed to the future
Looking for home
I want to go home
Where is home?
Wandering soul
seeking the safe
any open door
Looking for home
I want to go home
Where is home?
words & image copyright 2009
Jun 04 2009
It rained on the sun today
I sat on the stoop smoking
watching the drops saturate the earth
Doubts haloed my head
like the mist that rose from the grass
after the light gave up the sky
Nerves quieter
yet the mind still raced
ticking off laps –
a mad jogger
who is late for the race
For a flash I saw a different me
A future existence
I liked her, that woman I was
in that tiny moment
neediness absent
confidence, yes, but quiet
no anticipation, just certainty
And then I was me again
I was tired.
I am tired.
The pain is dull,
not sharp and jagged as it was.
Sad, soft but always there.
I need sleep without dreams.
A warm place to float
copyright 2009
The virtue of books is to be readable.
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