Can’t think of a title
a name
for a baby
who called
on his twentieth birthday
tattoos and whiskey
wondering
if I’d come back.
If only he knew
I’d never left
Writing, Ideas, & Stories
Can’t think of a title
a name
for a baby
who called
on his twentieth birthday
tattoos and whiskey
wondering
if I’d come back.
If only he knew
I’d never left
Standing to forget where
we were
won’t fell us
where to go
Trying to not be cynical
is hard on days like today.
Surrounded by four feet
of chocolate
and six dozen roses,
what do I do with this?
Everything is not
corporate America.
I chant this like
go de-fense.
Chips away
like an ice sculptor,
one day it will be
chip free.
Following shaded paths
corridors covered in
cactus and bright nothing.
Signs point in several directions
trails with no footing
and mirage of success.
Sun follows with a knife
to my back
plunging
and keeps me
walking forward.
Sometimes
the greatest way to say something
is to say nothing at all.
Walk away from the strings
breathe
really breathe.
Follow nature to
serenity and a drink
and let the world
shape today.
I’ll challenge you
to try today.
Find the patience of a pen
grace of a brush
and try.
Building blocks in comfort
is only a shell.
So will change it.
Why wait till tomorrow
since we write the calendar,
it may never come.
I can’t lose
what I
don’t have.
I will.
It’s the door we can’t stop
from opening
yet
will only
be there during the next tomorrow.
Will search for answers
among the stars
and find the door
beg it to remain close
only for it to take
what we don’t have.
Forsaken the name
that brought you to
my door.
Carried to the
threshold
find your footing
dance on the carpet
or fall on your ass.
I won’t carry
or help you walk
like the rest.
Forsaken your name
and make your own.
Stood stall
when everyone told her
to sit.
Shrugs the blanket
of relief in her hunt
for solitude.
Wasted stitches
in a feeble attempt
to calm the fight.
Peace for the next
so she can burn
this relief blanket
You keep a barrier
the words and you
a hardened shield
to protect your
fruitful heart.
It’s been pierced before.
Your words, while beautiful,
you don’t always believe them.
Casting webs
around yourself
to stop the buzzing
flies from getting near.
You know it’s not healthy
and you want to tear the
webs and shields down.
The words are always there
and you know
they’ll be close by.