i never thought i’d see the day
where someone meant more to me
than my own selfish self, but yes
you’ve taken over my life with
those bitten lips and opened… arms…
i will to fall into after busy days
i never thought i’d see the day
where someone meant more to me
than my own selfish self, but yes
you’ve taken over my life with
those bitten lips and opened… arms…
i will to fall into after busy days
when i sit n rip to shreds all those thoughts
that led me to dispair– i rejoice in His name,
hold your hand and regain my fame/self-centered
recollections of a life i lived yet you don’t know.
it’s not all about the benjies, though that kid
could solve a crime better than scoob, sometimes
you have to just let it happen/take ya lumps,
grab a chunk of chest and scream out the demons/
they’re not that powerful, after all, just pains
you can relieve yaself of through meditation,
consternation, an ability to see what ails you
so it doesn’t pale you/ending up dead isn’t the worst
it’s sometimes the only way out– if you’ a coward.
so, how many times did you cry before you realized
that watered eyes only keep you down more, not a raise
like praise can bring? it’s ok, though, we’re all young
and unsure of ourselves before we find the way to see
life from the objective– so scary, yeah, when you
can’t tell where the punchline lies/when you lock on
and don’t let go of the figments of imagination running wild
like lightning bugs through a windshield/a blaze and
splatter– don’t mean to be cruel, but you know you’ve
been there, holding onto a, ‘maybe,’ a, ‘won’t be,’
though you just did and try to hide behind who you
wish you were, not who you’ve been revealed to be.
i use to take a beat and spit it back/stutter/rewind
and begin again. i keep it raw like sinew/hold my head
high and try not to see how bad the storm is brewing–
baaaaaah, nah, can’t reach me in my bunker, here, the
hole in the ground i longed for to bury my embarassment/
but i feel strong now, somehow uncovering myself to be
covered by He who knows me in the finest sense of
the word.
where/when/what/why do they come back
stronger every time i try to persuade
myself you never existed before? thoughts,
strangers i know but close the door
on, bring me to the brink/rataplan in
my chest to show you were alive, my
old friend who never knew how familiar
i wished we would have become until
well after we were/the one who always
wore my words in weathered world as
though a coat to cover from elements.
can you outlast my love in metered rhyme?
i try to throw you for a loop
so you see how mind works
more than melody.
i never saw the strength of word in restraint
when the world is open to much more than
can be held with pretty words,
the sorest type when heart is held
in palms to be free of cage itself.
foraged for those phrases you want to hear.
never thought you’d feel the same
until
forever came knocking while
i was incomplete, taunting me
with sweetened kisses in a driveway
i will not look at the same again–
how much time it took to be strong enough
for mouth to make a move the mind
always thought impossible.
i gave back my staunch opposition to
the life i meant to lead much younger than
when i realized it could be.
Beautiful particles, relaxing in their infinite swirl amongst us stationary.
I see your lock on me.
I fidget slightly, shifting
for your eyes to follow;
and they do follow,
spreading your mouth’s
corners to match
their smeyesing.
I look away, as I am
on duty, after all,
but your presence/allure/
your pledge to me keeps
relaxing my mind, giving
my body a chance to be
in control.
I repeat the same actions
in hope of finding that
which may alter my
ever-repeating path.
Am I– I am addicted
to the repetition, though
need a bit of change
to feel in control (also
part of the addiction).
I close, open, reload, refresh
for changes made by others
as if my own changes
matter not– for I am not
as clever, no!, nor witty
as they who ‘ve found
their calling in
the written word.
Is insanity insanity when the
outcome remains the same,
though the substance of
the moments preceding
differ slightly until they
seem a new day?– same
as the last, I assure you!
How bleak the day when I know not your ever-longed-for face.
You sleep now, and I later, with no sense knowing we’re one
disease/incurable danger away from disconnection of our minds.
I transfix gaze, like on scene played out by actors, to these uncertain fingers.
Their idea of slowing down is allowing me to catch up with what they wish to say;
how foolish to let the horse pull the cart without a driver awake at the reigns. Did
you remember to feed the cats?– Of course you did; always do! I just wanted to
make sure.
Why, God?
You do not answer
in the traditional sense–
Your path shows more
than words
or fulfilled questions could.
i look back and see Your hands
leading me, gentley, to this line–
and, yet, i cannot see your hands now
or in my forethoughts; what, though,
i do see is Your breath on my skin as
You work hard on this life i follow for/to You.
the kitten/
cat slinks
in stealthmode
amongst the outcropped clothes
and logged shoes;
she knows their place now,
certainly,
though, through held breathing,
inhales their journies.
I love you,
Your spying eyes licking my face,
Your worried questions
as to why I stare
when you do not;
I love your quick-to-rise smile,
slowly lifting
those spying eyes.