I write poetry because I like psychoanalysis more than strict observation and research.
musings & scribbles
so, i gave up on love
to be with myself/
not something new, no, but
something i owed myself
after being in it for everyone else.
then,
without much warning,
but with all the reasons in the world,
you found me.
i was one smooth dude,
acting like i wasn’t the
most lonely man without you;
you, the most beautiful
of God’s creations, gave me
reason to be happy.
i said, “I love you,”
in a discussion on dinner;
specifically,
you stated you would
ask my Mom
how i like spaghetti prepared.
the way to a man’s heart is
through two things:
the respect of his mother,
and an appreciation for his appetite.
to be sad, to be frustrated,
to be angry, to be reserved
through it all.
the world once stopped to ask me if i’d continue through or sit there, standing by while every petal fell and the seasons changed. i answered with a step and a camera shot; grabbed on to the beauty and kept moving.
have you found a song you
can’t live without when you hear it
but forget its existence when you’re most in need?
i forgave myself (or maybe i haven’t)
for all the nights i spent watching life, surrounding me
with motions i don’t know but envy anyway.
killing time, but forgetting to
when i need to most;
i’m forging my way with memories,
but unsure where they’ll take me;
holding tight to the radio, hoping
that song comes back i’ve often heard
when things were better/but i know
it won’t on this station, no, and i can’t tune
what’s in my head.
i’ve forgotten more than can be counted on,
given myself a means to be without care
just enough to give a… i’m alright, though,
i’ll be just fine; just need to keep in mind
all the times i’ve fought my way through
by staying the course/by being the same
and maybe i’ll be something worth moving for
when the motions stop to let me in,
or this head gets lighter and i can walk once more.
a thought (or more) a day
10458 || world life is all about scale. so what if we can build a skyscraper? termites can build a proportionately larger structure. || romantic love is bothering to have feelings for someone else who bothers to have them for you in a mutual way. || pieces are picked up, but a whole is hard to keep steady (the heart). || picture life like the ebb and flow of bathwater; remember, you’re just there until the cord’s pulled, but be grateful for the time spent out of the pipes.
10458
i have woken to
beat the odds
left for dead
hovered instead
let my mind go
let my mind go
and it’s making circles in the sky
with clouds swirling to keep up;
birds, confused, stay grounded or
attempt to get ’round it.
i see my life through a kaleidoscope:
distant, disheveled, broken, stained,
shook, shaking, individual by
appearance alone (but still uniform).
i see my life from the third-person looking back;
i can’t remember the story of my life,
but damn, it’s catchy/catchy/haunting when
i can’t think of this/that/the other/maybe
i’ve reappropriated the memories into
a sieve
which fills, surely, but leaks.
i am frankenstein
and his monster;
a world apart, a
world inside, i’m
just walking along,
minding my biz
when i gotta stop
and remember
where i’ve been, but
it’s kind of hard
when the road’s
gone, the path’s
now a mountain
slope, the world’s
become round
and i’m just
seeing a horizon/
don’t know there’s
more below, more below,
or am i the one
in wane?
bruised by ego,
i wait for purpose,
and find the daily misleading.
he use to sit around,
mopin’ ’bout where he’s been;
she use to sit around,
hopin’ that he was interested in…
all the times she kept lookin’
after words were said.
… and all the pauses between their
visits became shorter,
like heartbeats; they were growing warmer
to the touch.
intimacy plays a major role in how we perceive a relationship, right?
it’s not just touching or reciprocation of feelings.
intimacy describes how we view the other person.
we either respect them, tolerate them, or use them.
rarely, but often, we love them. and, by love, i mean
gathering your day and casting it aside in favor of
a moment with…
there was a time when i fought for who i never met,
for who was so far away i thought we’d somehow
fall at the same time and end up together;
then,
she/my wife/ appeared, a miracle
for a trodden boy becoming a man by himself.
she changed my mind on a lot of things, most
notably the process of happiness– that
repetitive fixation on standardization no longer
took hold, no; instead, she
felt warm to my eyes, my hands, my lips, my blood.
for candi.
you can’t tell me i didn’t try,
but you will anyway.
not that you want me to,
but you will anyway.
the pause between us
merits more than lowered eyes
and silent movings of the chest,
mimicking a breath but giving much less
than can be lived with;
the pause between us
merits more than detoured gazes
and silenced apologies.
i wake up every day,
blessed to be beside you.
the least i could do
is find a way to apologize.
i gave myself a few days to cool down,
see that the world still revolves around
something other than me, mine, me.
held up a thousand things to take the time to be relentless,
ah,
so tiring.
and you listened the entire time,
to
all but my thoughts, those
wicked things waiting for peace to begreaterthan.
just a few words
and a few thoughts more:
i’ve never truly been lost,
just waiting for Him to show me
where i ought to be.
i’ve stood, standing, in where i cannot name
only to know it fondly later,
when i’ve ‘ time to see what He did with me.
just another thought
and a few words more:
i’ve never given up, except to be saved;
and i’m still waiting, yes,
i’m still waiting to repay.
the voice of an angel
wakes my soul
and i prepare
for another day
when the sun has risen
and the flat earth
holds its yellow shadow,
clear.
the glory of a day
raising me
i couldn’t see before;
here, i am who i
have become, but
like a miner for the gold,
i’ll chip away with
stroke after stroke
until you find behind me
a mound worth more
than my time ever could have been.
for what it’s worth, i’ve (yearly)
thought i should stop,
only to be driven to race across
a paper/a screen with words
like ants, but giving to.
i gave myself
a few more times to
see how things might be
when i’m all i’ve got, but then
you had to come back and show me
how life could be if i were responsible
; if i became forever indebted
to someone, not just my
calling– this plan i’ve
tried to be, i.