Thursday, June 2, 2016

June 2


  1. When the sun goes down
    And my son goes down.
    It is when I lay next to him,
    Heavy breathing and stillness,
    That I witness my child's peace.
    I am reminded of our creator.
    I am calmed by his serenity.
    Breathing in his innocence
    As another day becomes night...

    1. i like the repetition of "goes down." that works great.

    2. "breathing in his innocence" beautiful. I like the internal rhyme (if that's the right term)

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

  3. I actually like them
    Yellow — the color of danger —
    (My friend Sabine wrote a whole book
    About that) telling you to watch your
    Step and/or to slow down your vehicle
    Or you’ll hit your head on the ceiling
    Of your car and that of your passenger
    If she’s not paying attention.

    The visible obstacles are fine. It’s the ones I carry inside
    That worry me.

    1. Nice. I like your work. "it's the ones I carry inside"

  4. Here i am again
    On my knees
    My eyes are closed
    My hands are locked
    I resist the urge
    To check the clock
    The moments pass
    On my knees
    My heart is open
    My cheeks have streaks
    I wait with patience
    Till my God speaks
    The silence is calming
    On my knees
    My problem is persistent
    But my soul is sublime
    For all miracles happen
    In His perfect time.

  5. Speed Bump on the Road to Bliss

    It’s been five years since I saw their eyes: one set green, one set blue.
    It’s been five years since I saw them smile or heard them laugh.
    For 60 months I’ve held my breath.
    For four years and seven months I haven’t picked up a glass of wine, I haven’t taken a puff of weed.

    Their silence invades my sleep, it invades my wake. Their silence is a virus I can’t shake, I feel the wrinkles deepen around my eyes.
    All this “holding my breath,” and sleep invasion is one big wheel that grinds me down.
    A wolf inside me howls.

    And yet, something ancient in me understands
    until I learn that the bump
    the bliss,
    I will not have awakened. I will not have loved.
    I will not have lived.

  6. Wow this really speaks to me
    A wolf inside me howls
    Love the way you break down passing time

  7. Breathing sweet.
    Dates in line.
    List checked off.
    Check the checkbook.
    Beguiling bills.
    Grovel to a stop.

  8. Bump in the Road

    Responsible for myself
    Away from radical behavior
    I was a young man
    Never doing what was right

    Always a rebel
    Following no advice
    I had a thirst for danger
    But it was more seen as an adventure

    Without the consequences
    In the back of my mind
    Wanting attention
    But never quite getting the love

    From my parents
    Though they meant well
    They were on a trip of their own
    To find their own happiness

    I found mine
    In my drug of choice
    A false sense of security
    Being on the edge of oblivion

    To find I came through the gauntlet
    Ashamed and rewarded by my survival
    I took that first bong load and loved
    The smoke swirling into the air

    As I exhaled
    The inebriated insult
    At the world
    I was alone

    Yet I found myself with friends
    Of the same congregation
    The steps to freedom existing only
    In the unreal

    The fallacy of what reality was
    Suppose to bring
    A responsibility
    For myself

    As a sense of confusion tugged at me
    Having my dad pull for me
    And my mom on the other side
    The dark rebellious nature

    Of the wonton lifestyle
    I took my dreams and dashed them
    Head long into a wall of the addictive
    Relationship I had with drugs

    Now I see
    The world around me
    Swelling with the same
    Absolute neglect

    For the seriousness of the device
    The drug
    Not a sober life
    But a freedom with

    Defect for the drug
    As a friend with its benefits
    Not outweighing the risks
    Being the attitude towards carelessness

    Pulling the strings like a child
    Wanting the parent to see me and love
    Only to find the drug escaping reality
    Shaping a form into a fantasy

    Of the mind
    What is bliss?

    It is addicted to a false friend
    A wayward nomad to nowhere
    A wind which has no stillness
    And a mind without a brain

    What of the world
    Does caring about life
    Calling the friend reality
    Matter any more?

    Responsible for myself
    That is my bliss
    The road bump
    Is my mind

    Wanting to control
    Wanting to love
    When I have not looked
    Into the mirror

    I have everything
    My heart
    My mind
    The love for myself

    And the world
    So let the bleeding take
    Charge of their own growth
    And let mine

    Be in peace
    To love while
    I am alive and waiting
    For a better time

    In a land where the fruit
    Can only be picked
    With the
    Clean spirit