Can’t shake off the blanket
of cowardice achieved.
I am a shell of myself,
trying desperately,
trying to find some path
helps me navigate
through the impending doom
that never arrives.
I wonder if it ever will,
I say to myself,
recognizing memory
and wanting to break out.
I wonder how long
I will let such sorrows
envelop my state of mind.
I can see the moon through the clouds.
I looked outside,
could see the blue sky,
I wondered inside,
what’s my takeaway.
Thought about snowshoeing,
enjoying the crisp air,
wondered what I’m doing
questioning nature.
Seems everything is clear,
then why the cobwebs,
trying to only assure
the mind flows and ebbs.
I’m counting on someone,
to come rescue me,
on this beautiful day, one
asks authenticity.
When at night,
the wind is calm,
a stillness in the air,
I’m waiting,
and nothing seems to know,
I wait a little longer,
check again,
and the air is still.
I sometimes want
those winds to return,
the kind that shook our soul,
but made us feel alive,
we could know how to smile,
look in each other’s eyes,
only then
could we ever really
hold each other’s hand again.
Oh, getting better every day,
morning ritual
draws a coffee in hand,
early moments spent
aligning blind slats
with the building lines
across the street.
Seems they’ll never really balance,
but I find that amusing
and it passes the day.
Think about meditation
but wonder if in my
alone time that’s already happening.
I mean it is true,
I sit alone and stare for hours,
isn’t that kind of what it’s like
to bore deep in our soul?
I know I need to admit,
I’m trying to find myself,
sometimes with desperation,
waiting for the telephone to ring,
I still call it that,
ages me a bit I suppose,
but maybe that lends to my curiosity,
the desire to understand
how this time of my life,
call it a chapter
contains so much
uncharted territory.
I continue to fight the blues,
will always wonder,
what might have been,
what could me,
all the adages
defining my experience …
alone time.
I took a journey today,
chalk full of just memory
reliving a day,
I’d never found a way.
I walked alone,
and cried alone,
I strolled with arrogance
and wept alone.
I never really knew why,
yet I wanted to die.
I am afraid of life alone
well, not as much today,
but going back to that day,
I can’t shake the tremors anymore.
I’m getting old,
I have to say,
so every new moment
seems only steps away,
from saying goodbye to forever.
I wonder what’s ahead
thinking about this day,
I’ve contemplated
forever the reasons
why it had to go down this way.
Whenever I seem satisfied
I begin to question why
I haven’t quite forgotten
still so easily can I cry.
I have a different outlook now
doesn’t mean I forgot this day.
To imagine,
she might be nearby
if only words can tell me,
I would make them up in my mind
to have you closer to me,
feel your warm affection,
that compassionate soul
I once held in my arms.
I feel these emotions,
saddle me,
I cannot move sometimes,
and then I realize
I’m living, I’m alive,
and she would want that for me.
She is beauty in a special day,
when the stars align at night,
the radiant blue of a sunny day,
she’s all these things,
wrapped into her soul,
a certain elegance
in how she carries her own pain,
once shared with me,
once comforted,
oh did I hold your love with my heart.
It’s when thoughts take me,
somewhere,
anywhere that matters
in the moment.
I can’t really predict how
the concrete bench might feel,
until I sit down, the stone pressed against
my vulnerable body.
I only think about the next thing,
while my body postures
for the sightseers
going about a winter day,
I wonder if they wonder
am I cold,
or brazen.
I think about what is in my head,
and forget about those around me,
except those following me,
watching my moves,
imagining who I am inside,
without ever really knowing,
the thoughts in my head,
that help define who they are in the moment.
I let them take me,
down slippery roads
where I cannot find a grip
until I put myself to bed,
wait for the next day.
She would on those autumn days
smile with eyes that could shine,
enough to shadow her tears,
oh those pretty autumn days.
I used to weep occasionally,
knowing how beautiful,
how spectacular
moments would be in her arms.
Time did accumulate,
our hopes and desires,
became a waning passion,
a loss of serendipity.
I wait now in curiosity
will ever we somehow
dream again her smile.
These moments in our lives
when we pine over loss
anniversary days
a significance
others may not understand.
We want to hold on
to why they feel
so important,
we center our lives around them.
~
These moments in our lives
dig deeper in our psyche.
We feel like we connect
enough to say hello.
Our fears might be alone,
a silent solace.
The hours tick away
we struggle to find our way.
~
I made it through another one
seems the days do come and go.
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.
Paper and a pen 