I’d Rather Go Blind

I don’t know,

What I knew,

All I know,

Is walking out the door

II

Maybe it’s the

Hurricane in me

Maybe it’s the world of pain in you

We hold tight to each other

Skin on skin

I don’t know why we hurt each other

Maybe it’s the hurricane in me

Maybe it’s the world of pain in you…

III

They say there’s thousands that will do just fine

But for me

There’s just one woman…

IV

We love each other

And we hold each other

We use each other

Take the best of each other

We wound each other

Until morning comes

And all that is left

the shadows of us

Aching in the bed

VI

And I don’t know

What I knew,

All I know;

I’d rather go blind

Than watch

Her hurt

I’d rather go blind

Than watch her walk away….

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Winter (Bleeding Ink)

This

This is the poem I write

When there’s no music

When I sit in the dark

My legs aching

My hands shaking

I tried writing drunk

But it only made the demons come out of

The woods

The voices had been sleeping

In the back of my mind

I’m just a selfish person

In a selfish world

I have stories

In my mind

I hold on to them

Believing it will buy me more time

Didn’t they tell you

It won’t let go

Just because you get old

But you can out grow

Some of these impulses

I can’t write

About the girl

With the brown hair

The dark eyes

The bruise behind her leg

I can’t write

About the “summer air…”

I’m beaten down

What have I become?

Someone said

Writer’s are just vampires

suck you dry

And leave you

Declaring you will never

Die

If they love you

Spoiler

(They never really love you …)

While all the stars are out tonight

I always have poems behind my eyes

I try to write

What I wish was written

I try to write

Without complaining

We will never be 17 again

never 21 again

never see you

Go through my shit again.

I always dream

Buckets under the sink

I wake up

Feeling the cold air through kitchen window frame

Why do we do the things we do

The water lines freeze

This house is made of shit

Have you ever woke up to the sound of termites ?

I still carry it in mind

And it’s frightening but I guess we do what we have to do

And so do you…

There’s a boy just over there

Shoveling the septic tank

He’s ashamed

He’s too young to figure it out

And when he’s old enough

He won’t care anyhow

And we all lived didn’t we?

We pack ourselves

With light

We fill the void with anything

Sometimes

I wake up

Because it won’t let go

It won’t let go

Just because you get old ….

And I’m afraid

Of what I’ve become

She always said

I was too much

Something else

She couldn’t label

And it’s lonely

Cold weather

When you prefer the winter…

I prefer the cold night air…

Simple Things

She dreams of little things

As she steps over the cracks in the street

And the whole wide world it seems

Is on the edge of a break down

This wet blanket of time

This overcast sky

It’s rotating now

I always whispered into the dark

It’s simple things

You take away with you

The notes on the napkin

The perfect slice of pie

And

There are certain shadows

That you just carry with you

As you go

The old man in line at the drug store

Remembers the Kennedy’s

I remember 9/11

Someone asked me what it was like

And I just looked at them

And I was sad

Because they don’t remember

The world before – the heaviness of now

MMBOP

Surge
The original animated Batman from the 90’s

But now that I’m older I think a lot about that man in line at the drug store

And I realized everyday for him must be heavy as well

And those who lived through Nixon

Or the man who told me about D-Day …

Being a teenager

The pain in his eyes

Asking me how you’re supposed to come back from that

And I remember the pain in peoples eyes after the Tornados …

We all carry darkness

And we all live in this same room

We just see it from different corners

Lit by the same light

Different points of view….

Carry the simple things

Take them with you

It’s ok to believe again

Like you once did

Create again

A little at a time

This is an old pain

Older than time

And even the stars are quilted with shadows

It just takes courage

Just one step at a time

That’s how the light is made

Rooms

The strangeness of letting go,

We always say it’s difficult

It seems the older I get

The less arranged it is

People are ripped from us in the night

We don’t get to say good bye

We don’t get to make sure they are ok…

The strangeness of letting go

we fight so hard every day just to stay …

While nothing in this room is permanent …

Paper Fences

And this is just where I came in

Our cities burning

Broken words

Defined by the way we were

Filling the skies

But right now we are

Paper white picket fences

uptown state

Just dreams held on to

so far out

off sight

Tucked away

We both know

The lies we tell

The day we make

The pain we take

The bad bill we have to pay

Put off till another day

What kind of life is –

What kind of lie is –

What kind of love

Is this?

Would you stay with me,

If I told you the truth

Would you be a little bit closer

Oh I would be here for you

I would that I could

Get close to you

And

She says

She knows

You carry yourself

She says

She knows

He says

He pays the price

They both get theirs

Out of site

Out of mind

And she says

How can you choose what stays and what we give away?

The revelation

For any paradise …utopia

There must be a final solution

For all of us misfits

Outcast

Cut-off

Paper white picket fences

Caught in the wind and rain

She hears the drums

Drumming out

She plays her soul out loud

In the daylight

Too late for repeal

Too fast for dreaming

It’s time for freedom

It’s time for soul

It’s time to shake it out

She’s cast her chains to the ground

Oh sunrise

The tide is coming in

Oh life

The earth is breathing now

I would

That I could

Get close to you…

The importance of being Idle

I wonder what the courtroom felt like , when Ted Bundy cross examined the officers that arrived on the scene? When he had them recount in every detail, what they found and what they did?

Sure, we know, now…

Now,we have television and crime dramas and countless other murders…

But did they know then, they were watching a murderer, relish in his crime?

That this, was a new kind of evil?

It wasn’t just in their courtroom

It was in their brothers, their co-workers, it was in the stigma we put on mental illness, it was in the constant ways we refuse to see it, to learn about it. In the fact that they thought they had a decent man that could never commit these crimes…who argued with the court and the judge, who acted out, and constantly changed his moods…

When did they realize they would have to learn from this…

I wonder how many of us linger on the edge of madness

Maybe it’s the chill from the judge

As he says he is sentenced to death, and he is truly sorry. But he wasted his life.

Maybe we all are narcissist …

Maybe we all will be judged.

Maybe we all waste our lives to some degree…

What did we do with our creativity

What did we do with what we have?

Maybe there is a higher Deity

Maybe there is just an empty street…

With an empty house

And it’s just a room to read in…

Or maybe it’s the bar from the Shining ….

Maybe none of us know…

Maybe the only sure thing is the Vibrator in a wife’s bedside table

And the two out of three sociopaths we pass in the street…

Maybe that was the horror.

The fact that this could have been any of us.

Maybe it wasn’t who was standing there,

But the fact that you could see all the pieces of people you knew…

This could be any of us…

With just a little push…