Its relevance
is only a word,
oft used
an expression of peace
found in the turmoil
of stress,
built upon nerves
needing respite,
a place to fall
with soft landing.
One time
when the world
seemed in order
he looked her way
only to realize
the pain in her eyes,
would never
go away.
And so here I am
talking poetic
or frightened
with the loss.
Words seem
fallible
ain’t no shining
light.
I don’t know if I can find my words
I sit in a chair
questioning inspiration
unable to think.
Is this poetry
or a life sermon.
Seems craft enough to me.
It’s like
I’m trying to make
a point.
This macabre of pain
is the burden
I carry on my head.
We’re all writers
we’re all actors
we would shout out loud
if burden didn’t carry.
Any weight upon our shoulders
our own
self-realization
the only time
only once.
Begun the tide.
The other day,
a conversation
about all kinds
of different things.
We say these words
these tribulations,
and our confidence
studies others.
Oh it seems
we brush each other
as we
survey by.
And then
there comes the
speculation,
the sweet drama.
Where do we land?
At the moment
I feel angst,
that point
of parody.
I haven’t any
idea of what
I just said,
but there will
be.
We can hope.
Is it you I strive
or you too,
combined you are responsible
such headaches I endure,
the thought of a lesser life
wondering if when
somehow
in my head
in the deep recess of my mind,
this ambition,
some protocol
stated clearly one day
be this or that
a then and when
and yet,
all the sum of our efforts
begin to lay in question
and we will wonder in silence …
What about the other guy?
I sat down listening
their motion a soft lull
each moment similar
yet unique
covering their spatial
home.
I was a resident
for a moment,
the soil around me
having a history,
a place where emotion
might find a settling ground.
I wondered far into the sky,
where the two might meet
how each one
could love the other
a natural embrace
between
water and sunlight,
sky and whitecaps,
the sea is our own
helps us cherish and breathe,
the beauty of nature.
I was in a hurry one morning
when trying to
ride the crest
of my night emotions,
I hoped I was wrong
but deep down
I knew I was right.
There comes a time
when we battle
our own psyche
trying to forget
trying to put aside
those reasons
we know
we can never avoid.
It was that morning
waking up
that seemed the course
of the rest of my
days.
I have a meeting I go to
Saturday nights,
about consciousness
fighting the thought patrol.
I often speak
tell the world of listeners
people seem to care
about transparency.
Tonight I listened
I had not utterance,
only my silent pain
only my misguided train.
I wonder about loneliness
I think about being alone,
there are differences you know,
I like to feign my independence.
Tonight I wandered in my mind,
I realized this insecurity
has been with me all my life.
I wondered about eccentricity
how it messed with my confidence,
oh to have that moment back,
this meeting is about love.
Paper and a pen 