38

I’m 38.
Last cup of tea.
Last cup of coffee.
Maybe.
Last beer.
Last cigarette.
Last whiskey.
I won’t forget.
The bartender didn’t know how to pour a god damned drink straight.
I drank it chilled.
Forgived her.

I saw what you were looking at.
I was there.
Did you stay up late?
I did.
You left me not to wait.
I’ll age before I see you.
Hear from you.
Hear from me.
I’ll hide politely.
Like a story.
That hasn’t been read yet.
A script.
I broke down the locations
Get a grip I did my part
Where are you?
You fell asleep.
You watch tv
You don’t see me.
You don’t watch me
You said goodnight.
While I made my tea
Turned out the light
Thought youd wait
Why would I?
Why would you?
I see what you were looking at
Not me
Not exact
I broke down
When I realized that
And I won’t forget.
38.
My Last regret.
You do not know.
What I’ll say yet.
In between the moments I am me.
I am set aside.
The poetry.
The landslide
That you are just not ready
For.
I’ve given you my 38
39 is not yours.

Rushed

 

“tomorrow, next week, sometime, maybe”
I’ll change my ways.
I’ll be free.
I’ll take a walk in my shoes.
Learn who I am.
Who is me.
Maybe.
But tomorrow I am busy.
Next week, who knows where I’ll be.
Sometime in the future.
I’ll make time.
You’ll see.

“tomorrow, next week, sometime, maybe”
I’ll do just what I say.
I haven’t had the time as of yet.
And I have no time today.
But Tomorrow holds a new sun rise
And I’ll add it to my list.
If I have the time
I’ll write tonight
The things I know I’ve missed.
So I remember.
If not tomorrow.
Next week.
I’ll have time then.
You’ll see.

“tomorrow, next week, sometime, maybe”
I know I said I would.
I thought a time would fall in place
Where it was easy that I could.
And I waited for the sun to rise
And then I watched it set
And every day the same surprise
Of sadness and regret.
That is hasn’t happened yet.

I know you don’t believe me.
But you’ll see.
“tomorrow, next week, sometime, maybe”

Pressing Flowers

It’s the words
That scream from the leaves
As I press them
Between paper
And squeeze the life out of them
While I wait to enjoy their outline
Drying out
Crying out
To be saved
A war within my mind as I press them
Between paper
And open them weeks later
No my darling, I’ve not forgotten you
You
Are
New.
Oh yes.
I see you.
Let me peel away the paper
Let me foil away the wrapper
Let me see whatever flower
You are after
It’s the words that lie on paper
Not the feelings made
Shortly after
You read them
Press this.

Not Me

I see you.
I see you wake up in the morning.
I watch you remember me.
Slowly open your eyes
With
Without the sunrise
Hopeful you’ll hold yourself in the mirror
The outline that is you.
Feel yourself in your skin again.
That was yesterday.
Today is a new day.
That pulls apart
The empty shell that you can hardly recognize.
Looking back at you.
Will hold your gaze
As you lock eyes
With the one you have become.
And the pain swallows you
Alive but you are numb.
A new normal that is you.
Though you don’t see me.
I watch you.
Though you know me
I am not you.

The Wind

The grass bends with every step my feet touch the color of the earth soil-screaming against the movement that each vibration touches
its being
gently paving a path of where I have walked.
Quietly like the wind.
Unnoticed.
But without it
You notice.
That the leaves do not move on the trees unless you blow them.
That the air is still and damp without the breath of the sun.
The ocean doesn’t move unless you let it
The rivers do not know which way to turn
And with every season turning
We forget it.
Might we walk barefoot
And take the weight off our feet
Walk along the grass
And off the street
And create a path
That screams against the silence
That breathes the life back into the wind
That shakes the trees– and makes the ocean violent
And winds the rivers right between your knees
May you walk along the earth and feel your presence
Light the world and your breath become the life
That dances alongside me in the grasses
And be the wind
That makes me feel Alive.

What we are

Who are we.
Where we silence our own voices.
Lend our minds to the choices
That we touch fragmented in the mirror.
Against the broken glass
I drop
The lonely need of wanting to be free.
What bird am I that lends itself to be
I am me.
Let me be.
Let me fly. Let me weep. Let me laugh let me cry.
Let me learn to say goodbye
What we are.
Who are we.
Let our voices set us free
Who are you.
What is me?
Against the silence.
I am lonely.

Baby’s Breath

I knew you as a child.
I remembered your voice well before your face.
On the phone answering for my father.
Where you’d always say hello long enough to make me shy. And I gave the call over.
You watched me grow.
From a child into a child.
But my mind was without reason still
And my garden was too wild.
And you waited
Until age set me free
And you opened up the cage
And let me fly without wings
And I loved you.
And I lived inside your mess
Inside your mind inside your world
In your job and holiness
And had your children
And withdrew all I knew
Then made something different
That would be a part of you
But something changed.
I did not grow.
With time or age.
I did not know.
I lost track of time.
I lost track of me.
And I lost the person
I used to be.
When you knew me.
When I knew you.
When we knew eachother
And love was new
Until age set me free
And you opened up the cage
I would not have jumped
Into the fiery pit of rage
That changed me.
When I wouldn’t grow
Found me
Lost in a place I did not know.
Where I remember your voice.

She Walks on Water

For my daughter.

She can’t.
She can’t walk.
Give her some time.
She can’t write.
Give her a pencil.
She can’t speak
Let her sing.
She can’t dance
Let her hear the music.
She can’t smile.
Let her feel happy.
She can’t play.
Let her play her own way.
She can’t get through a day without weeping.
Let her live her life.
Let her decide her fate.
She can’t
Be without
She can’t.
She can’t live without
She can’t.
She can.
Walk like water and feel the earth.
She can.
Run for miles and in rebirth
She Can write for moments without distress
She can.
Speak poetry that melts
The loneliness
When you dance
And you hear the music sing it is her being
Her joy of everything
That is her freedom.
And the water of the earth
That feeds her joy
And the meaning of her birth
Give her a pencil.
All she’s after
To communicate.
Love and laughter.
And
She walks on water.

outline

I know the sound the light makes when it touches my face
It sings the sun in the morning and in the dawn
And outlines me in a thousand faces
Where my mind runs in all directions until it’s gone.
And I cover my eyes when it finds me in the morning.
And I open my eyes as it sinks into the ground
And the moments that I think of as it happens
Have no wording though there is meaning
It is without sound.
And in the silence the words are formed inside
The light
That breaks into the day and into night
And i know the sound the light makes when it touches my mind
And the outline left is what you’ve left behind.

undone

That leaf has lost its sun
It’s pale and it’s leaves undone
No flower to set aside
The emptiness that’s inside
The green that will never grow
The flower that
Never glows
I’ve planted the tiny seed
That makes me fall to my knees
And I water you.
And I wait for you to grow.

I wake to every day
I see you inside my sleep
I feed you my warm embrace
Inside you my soul you keep
I wait in the night for you
But seemingly you are through
But still my heart aches and shakes
Remembering Love we made
I’ve fallen and I’m undone.

Insides ar e breaking numb
Branches I limp I’m sore
I carry you never more but the memory
Is heavy still
I lost my faith in you
In everything that you do
But yet heart yearns for you
That leaf has lost its sun.
And I’ve come undone.