I would say to myself,
quiet room.
Deep inside
I’m traveling somewhere.
It’s that state of mind
piecing together reasons.
Wondering if we might connect
each artifice
asks freedom to evolve.
Always a search
this wisdom we don’t know
always seeking shelter.
Outside the mind
is where he might rather.
The chair remained alone in my room,
I could imagine all that I wanted
that night sitting in my usual
space where all my thoughts cascade.
She arrived that evening,
with dad standing behind,
that way they did
always together,
knowing each other
living with love
despite themselves.
I asked her a question
I needed only answer
in my own way
alone imagining
everything I always wanted to say
sitting in the chair nearby
her presence immediate
drew a smile across my face,
the tears though real,
always knowing
so much conversation
left behind.
Now today, reflective
want to say,
‘Hi Mom”
“Hi Dad”
love you both
to forever.
Enjoy the space
feels good to me,
hope you might feel some zen.
I’m in high school
I’m a quirky kid
went a whole year
thinking greasy hair was cool.
I mean real,
time,
not in the bottle.
Took a couple hints
to figure out why
I couldn’t get away from myself.
I’ve gone through life
wanting to figure out why
without ever finding an answer.
Simply rock and roll,
sort of a step inside,
or wallow away in wonderland
Then I think again,
lost in thought with
knowledge of its clever reality.
Life is always
ahead of ourselves,
we’re constantly wanting peace.
To find that peace
means mindfulness
a sensory sensuality.
We worry about what’s ahead,
it is just still there.
I just sipped my coffee
and it felt like I was on the waves of Jamaica.
I have this sudden
turn of events
the anxiety is a rush
My whole state of being
is about keeping it
together.
So I sit here
think about that,
watch myself write a page.
I don’t know what to do,
I feel like a criminal from a tv drama,
not a life I wish to live.
Such are the words of a
stalwart male.
on a Wednesday night
in hell.
I wonder sometimes about those
their temperate,
like you could read their angst,
the language, for now.
If I could just put that
into words I might describe
any moment in my life.
On paper,
what is the drive,
the want of words to play.
Sometimes none of it makes any sense
that’s the point of it all.
God, I’ve heard these words before.
Ever wonder about love,
its mystique sometimes over-bearing.
We live our lives,
trying to succeed,
ttrying to interpret,
trying to find a common ground,
within the structure of our being,
on why it is,
on who says what,
when in the end,
the answers do come within.
Have you heard about
his presence,
his ability to stay in the moment,
rather than dwell in the
past.
The place we all might
rather forget,
except to say
the happier times,
those moments of elated
captive adrenaline,
those moments when
everything else doesn’t matter
except peace of mind.
It runs
When my head
Lays on its side
A pillow
Softening the blow
I wonder about time
Sad moments
And the questions return.
A single tear
Runs from my eye
Finding a trail
Along my cheek.
I wonder about time
And how distinct
A moment exists
When torn apart by thought
We bury the truth.
We forget that
Human error
Is meant to withstand
The pain of
One tear.
Carry me through my day,
emotions I cannot define.
Oh I feel their bottling presence
in every gasp
of silent revelation.
What comes to me as simple
creates complexity,
a shadow of myself,
lost inside personal scrutiny.
I wonder about exposure,
if it is me,
deep in my head,
or the truth to my own
self-deprecation.
How necessary is it
crosses my mind,
throughout the movement of my day.
I wander alone,
having no buffer
to temper my hold,
wishing for a day,
I may step out
and appreciate the world around me,
rather than the course,
weighs down my humanity.
I thought about
just want to say,
the time passed,
I could no longer imagine why,
shudder to think
I make her cry.
My anger buried in sadness,
I only wanted to forgive.
I couldn’t
avoid the madness,
my heart broken
in pieces.
Oh, if I could only be selfish,
and know
just how to cry.
It was then
I spent all of my minutes planning,
I wanted to take a walk
and never return,
let the icy depth envelop me,
I even found a place I could jump,
be in long enough for the frozen waters
to take me home,
some place I dreamed about
a solace,
a special kingdom
I was told about when a child,
sitting listening to the sacraments.
I was willing to chance it,
everything is forgiven right?
It was in my darkest hour,
every direction I turned
found misery without compassion.
I was so deep inside my own head
I knew not which way
my struggles had begun,
or where,
How I had come this far,
and only years later,
would realize
I have little comfort over when,
even when bask in notions in
my own two hands.
Paper and a pen 