So many have gone now, and taken small chunks out of my heart. I dream about them
sometimes, and smile upon the memory, and sadden at the reality.
Could it be that we shall meet again on some bright day? Each have walked
this crooked road at different bends with me. I shall raise a glass
to all of our bitter smiles and our sweet tears. Goodnight and joy be to you all.
Posted in belonging, Community, Contemplations, Death, family, Health, Poetry, Respect, Uncategorized
Tagged death, farewell, joy, life, peace of mind, reunion
My heart seeks the deep grey sea, gulls flying and screaming, shells jamming their smooth edges between my toes. Grasses swaying in a humid breeze and sand dancing
a waltz with the tide.
That horizon there, is a meeting I will never know, could only dream about. The sickle moon hanging above my head, sending only a small shiver across the face of the water. Fishes sleep.
At the bottom of the ocean there are creatures that dwell in darkness. Do they see so much more than me?
Posted in Uncategorized, Contemplations, Poetry, Wellness, Health, Community, family, belonging
Tagged yearning, sight, darkness, sea, horizon, gulls, grasses, tide, shiver
This jar holds no question marks, no queries and no retorts,
the air gap allows for the nodding of heads and agreeable reports.
No dialogue, please. You want debate? We have only cheerleading here,
to join this club and be one of us, you will have to let me steer.
I possess the answers, you see I’ve deciphered our history,
and I will write our future and you will applaud deferentially.
I won’t argue with you, I know you, and I’ve heard it all before,
my minions tell me that surely my logic you will abhor, and so
I am the Proselytizer, you’ll do well to be Sycophant,
your tiresome queries bounce off the fabric of my rants.
Applaud and bow and idolize what you could never hope to be,
I am the champion of everyman, of everyman but you, you see.
The fins are off and the hook is embedded, it is frightening to be caught.
Tears behind a closed door and a jaw locked on grudges. Who takes
away the urge to die, the thought that death would be welcome?
Blossoms on the cucumbers, their vines tangled up with wire
and lazy cats purr and anchor me to this arid place. I never knew
that dreams could fade and fear would fill the space, or that walls
could be so thick, such an impediment to joy. To fight or to finish,
the only choices, really? Girls swallow their rage, don’t they, and then cry?
Even my tears have grown tired of my face. I should take this fear
and block it off with wood and string and sea shells. The walls would tremble
if I had my feet planted, eighteen inches apart and stuck
in the bone white clay. Tears? Merely exclamation marks hurled through the sky
like seabirds, like shackles broken by motion breaking upon the day.
Posted in alienation, Apathy, belonging, Community, Death, demons, Depression, family, Health, Poetry, psychotherapy, Respect, Responsibility, Uncategorized
The world knows how your heart pounds and your jaw clenches, how
tightly your fingers curl into the sinewy guts of a balled fist.
Rage, old friend, comes to visit with his hat perched jauntily upon his head,
and most of the time you greet him with a glint in your eye.
No apologies, no excuses, does he bring. He knows he is the remorseless
Joker on the table, the frequent visitor to your dreams. Bar the door, if you must,
if you can. You will always forget to close and lock the window, or cram
a towel against the growling gap at the bottom of the door. He slithers in
and extends a hand, offering many an object for you to hurl, and you take them.
You make the critters duck and cover. You make gentle hearts tremble. You make
your self out to be this amazing monster. And then he leaves,
and the light returns to your doorstep. He has joined his footsteps once more
to that alluring avenue – the one that joins you to your shadow, joins
your shadow to the heart of all the world’s children. That road
that loops around your best intentions like a crown of thorns upon your head.
You feel his footsteps before you hear the sound they make and you wonder
when will he come again.