zero

Why couldn’t I be enough?

Why couldn’t I be strong enough?

Why couldn’t my best be good enough?

Enough

Why couldn’t I make you happy?

Why couldn’t you let me go?

Why couldn’t I walk away?

Why

When does it all come together?

When does the yearning stop?

When will all the pieces fit?

When

I should have walked away back then

I should have run away when you said

When you said

Touching me made you sick

When you did everything to tell me it was over

Except say it was over

I should have run, never looked back

I should have walked into the sun

So many “should have dones”

Could of, would of, should of

Hindsight, yeah it’s so clear

But it wasn’t for all those years

Discarded, unwanted, inadequate

Square peg, Round hole

Forcing, splinters

Piercing my heart

Falling apart

Falling away

Tears

Falling

I never knew how alone it could be

With you by my side

Invisible

Push over

 

I just wanted to be your hero

 

Not an absolute

 

 

zero

Lineage

I hold the large black and white picture in my palms,

my arms spread
to accommodate for its size and fragility
The worn edges crumble lightly, sending a cascade
of history, battered and yellowed, to the floor
I stare through water stains at a young man, unsmiling;
he wears the garb of a World War One soldier,
all creases and wool, leggings and boots
his right hand rests on the edge an ornate table
his left hand hangs at his side, fingers drawn
a single ring adorns his left hand
one his sleeve, two chevrons point to the floor
a single ribbon sits atop his pocket
he bears no name tag
the image conceals his height
he is young and slender
his hair closely shorn on his skull
his expression reveals nothing
no anger, pride or humor
he stares ahead
with a Mona Lisa expression
not a smile, not quite serene

I stare at the man
I can see my father’s eyes
but all resemblance ends there
this man is a stranger
that lived with us for the final
few years of his life
as a frail old man
he would walk everyday
and get lost in the neighborhood
we’d try to help, my brothers and I
by pointing him in the right direction
when he went astray
but he got angry at us on our bikes

the young man in the photo is a stranger
like the old man who lived with us
like my father
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, they say
I hope that someday
when someone holds a tattered
yellowed picture of me
they will see a familiar
a family member
a relative
and someone will share a story
or an anecdote, or a smile
and I will be something more
than
a
stranger

Re-creation

I am rebuilding remodeling remolding me I am retooling refueling rethinking myself I am reminded reguided refocused on me I am refining redefining resigning the old me I am recentering relearning returning to myself, me

picture perfect

like an old black and white
day and night
we contrasted
yet focused

the exposure
and subsequent zoom
exhilarated us
framed our desires

like a flash bulb
we burned intensely
double negatives
making a positive

the chemicals
balanced
the brightness
profound

the results
picture perfect

wishful thinking

ever search for something
for so long
put forth so much effort
that when you finally
found what you were looking for
you had no idea what to do next?

you feel like you come to a complete stop
and expect a miracle
or a miraculous change
but nothing is different
it's still the same old you
only
more empty.

I feel like that sometimes.
I don't know why I search when I know I will only
be left feeling sad
and empty
and lonely.

harbinger

she spoke in hushed tones
not to me
but around me

I could hear her voice in the wind
the trees, the grass
she spoke in whispers

and rhymes,
"time and time herein"
she repeated in every natural tongue
"you failed me yet again"

I cried and listened and shook
she spoke the truth
on the petals of a rose
and the barb of the thorn

she revealed the wishes
never granted, never fulfilled
of a gentle heart and open mind

she cursed the day and wept for the night
branches trembled at her fury
but clouds calmed her resolve

"you will see me again"
she foretold with a glass surface stillness
and she laughed

shrill echoes shattered the stillness
drowned out by distant thunder
then peace

yet there is no peace
for her
or me

until we meet again

on the brink

a whisper
only an idea really
implanted
by a figment of wind

a ghost of a thought
just passing
through the ether
onto the edge of consciousness

a blink of an eye
movement of
a hummingbirds wing
a flash - it's gone

leaving only
a whisper

I'm not

I'm not alive
though I breathe
I'm not dead
though I 'm numb
I'm not blind
though I see
I'm not real
though I am here

I'm not a lot of things
And I will be one more
as
a

finale

introspection

undernourished
overexposed
under suspicion
over exerted

sometimes I can't get it right
and I look deep inside
and my inner child is weeping

sometimes I can't get enough
and I look deep inside
and my inner child is sleeping

underwhelming
overfed
under the gun
over the hill

sometimes I can't get away
so I look deep inside
and my inner child is laughing

sometimes I can't get focused
so I stare deep inside
and my inner child is cracking

that little bastard needs to die....

19

so small
the number

so vain

so incomplete

I wish you larger
but time is a killer

it speeds when I slow
no where to go

I've tried
oh God I've tried

but belief is weak
and the pull is great

don't judge
like you know me
don't mock
like you care
don't
just don't

if you want ot make a difference
then talk to me

and maybe
just maybe
19
would be so much more

will we ever know?

Gone

hop
like a bunny
hop
to catch me

I'm a fast motherfucker
It'll never last though
like last evenings snow
I'll diminish

then I'm gone
like the westerly wind

jump
like a silly fool
jump
to catch me, tool

I'm a slick little bastard
within my realm
never know when
I'll show again

soon I'm gone
like your favorite song

hide
like a small child
hide
life is wild

until the dawn breaks again
living within this sin
fingers pointed away
I can never stay

I'm gone

Faces

Faces
filling spaces

Faces
fulfilling graces

faces
I will never see again

random chances
circumstances
unspoken thoughts
forget-me-nots

quickening pulses
minuses and pluses
smiles endearing
heart never fearing

crowded places
shining faces
time goes by
it seems to fly

images transferred
feelings deferred
yearning badly
wanting madly

the faces
I will never see again

the death of a dream

i had always hoped
for a common bond
a heart to share the word

the beating goes on alone
becomes the tattoo of the sadness
that engulfs me

and the search continues
til my dying day

destiny

daggers and words
strike fear
into the hearts of the man
so brave

brevity is the word of the day
keep it simple and quick

I believed the word of a liar
does that make the liar more so,
or me the even bigger
fool?

who knows what lies in the heart of men
only the
darkest of horrors
that dwell in the shadows

begone
flailing doubt
cast aside like so many
unwanted emotions

i know for sure the truth
or perceived truth
before it happens
premonition of the days to come

without the security of a safety net
on the bar high above the anxious crowd
my heart beats for each of you
as it cannot do for me alone

be still, fool, breathe and relax
for the line is thin
and the walk is long
and tomorrow is not a promise to anyone

i close my eyes and dream
of a place
not far from my dreams
alone and welcome

and I drift off
never to be heard from
again

insignificant destiny

we can breathe new life
into many things

except ourselves

we get our second wind
a spurt of energy

and ultimately die

we prolong the inevitable
as long as we can

but we succumb

the wrinkles and the years
increase in proportion

we visibly age

our minds and our strides
seem to slow

as we climb the mountain of life

time is unforgiving
dispassionate
a bitch

life is too short
for others too long

side by side we stand

until one falls
replaced by another
and another
and another
another another

we're a blip in oblivion
a microscopic speck in the universe

but we live
and should always live

like we belong

somewhere

I am I

destination
unknown
means of conveyance
alone

making sense doesn't make much
sense anymore
so I'll be walking
up the street

I bet you thought I'd rhyme
I usually do it every time
but I let you astray
oh my

but the colors bleed
and they can't be bandaged with love
or kisses or soothing words
infection will spread

and the disease is the means
of conveyance
it's how to get from point "A"
to somewhere between
a rock and
no place special

it's the intravenous drip
of the grandfather clock
declaring when the hour is
digressing
slowly, deliberately
with all the passion one saves
for those moments in life
when everything will be different
those defining instances
when it all comes together

only to be taken away
by a thief
in sheep's clothing
with the wool
pulled over
it's
eyelids droop
and slumber finally comes
and dreams are dreamt
and screams are kept
under lock and key
until the nightmares
are real
and everyday breathes
down your neck
like a fairy
dragon
hungry
angry
gigantic

and we have no place to run
and our legs
turn to rubber
bands
of people try to save us
yet stay away from the danger
because it's the thought that counts
unless your dying

then only living counts

one


two



three



I'm alive


I feel the hot breath
I see the crowds
but they ignore me
I'm not the flavor of the month
except to this
very large angry dragon
dragging on
with all the fury
of a solar flare
disrupting communication
between us and them
the haves
and the have nots
the real
and the imaginary
the hopeful
and the distraught
the fearful
and the brave
the liars
and the pious
the believers
and the realists

the wars rage on
oblivious to the cost
of living
and
dying
I'm dying
to be
by your
side

and

you

the dragon

won't

consume

all of me


but if you must
then do it
take your best
shot
and be done with it
these games are
for fools
and I play to win
a fool by any other name
would still
be
a

loser
in
this
game


with no means of survival
or conveyance
except the ultimate
surrender

I let my spirit go

and place it
in your
delicate hands

to shape
or discard
as you see fit

the clay to your imagination
the medium to your desires

I am pliable
in your hands

I am resilient
I am
I

The last breath

My blog is dying....

All secrets known

in the vast ever changing
electronic landscape
that has become our new world

attention spans ever shrinking
as we're inundated and overwhelmed
with the status feeds of the masses

when did we ever concern
ourselves with the mundane rituals of life?
all the stuff we never bothered to share

socializing becomes ever more antisocial
and friends are just icons on a touch screen
wired up, plugged in, in touch by a distance

we feel safe in the obscurity
unaware that we're not so obscure, or hidden
we hang our flag everywhere

we boast of conquests and crimes
and dance our fingers across keyboards
and tell too much about ourselves

for our own good, we're oblivious
there are no secrets anymore
we've posted them for the world to see

but most people are too busy
updating
to notice

Can't get through

the words spill from the page to the floor
the tears fall as the heart heads for the door

can't get through
can't get enough
we're not through
I'm not enough

walking away from what I cannot explain
believing in something that will never be the same

can't get through
can't get enough
we're not through
It's not enough

the place we lived has become a place to die
we can't talk or look each other in the eye
many years, none wasted, have slowly washed away
can either of us live like this another day

can't get through
can't get enough
we're not through
I'm not enough

can't get through
it's not enough
we're not true
can't get enough

we close our eyes and wish it's like the past
more laughter than tears and love that would last
we open ourselves to this new reality
that maybe this is how it will always be

can't get through
can't get enough
we're not through
we're not enough

it's all true

all the time in the world

the push
or pull I
used to feel
that compelled me to write
has taken
root in my fingers
and ears

I write
six string sonnets
that the world may never hear

like the words
I so often wrote
that the world may never read

like the
paintings in my mind
that may never reach the canvas

like the thoughts
that I dream
never seeing their realization

I pour my heart into my passions
but time is the constraint
if I had all the time in the world
I'd probably be

just as sad