Tones

I can feel myself

In the background

Of this empty room

I guess

I am not myself

You can try to fight

With everything you have

The truth is

Everything you overcame

Can come right back

I am trying

I keep telling myself

The words you thought you kept to yourself…

All of these miles and miles

You put behind you

I keep talking in my sleep

Didn’t they tell you?

It won’t let go…

Did you ever wonder…

The colors in the wasteland

The truth is something I keep looking for every day

Why the world is on fire…

It won’t let go

It won’t let go

All the voices from the past

They keep calling me home

I guess I always thought

We would have more time

All of the photographs of you

I keep seeing you in every color of fall

The truth is

I am not myself these days

I hide it in the well

But in the nights

Alone in my sleep

I keep the words

You hid for yourself

And I

I see you in everything

I know

We all have one chance

And that’s why I know

It won’t let go

And I won’t let go

Call me

Anytime you feel the miles

You know

It won’t let go

And I won’t let you go…

The truth is

Everything reminds me of you

And I wake up

Reading

Memories of you tucked between the pages

Of everything I write

And

The nights are long

The miles are wide

but I’m all in the right

You and me

We won’t let go

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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…

Bleeding Ink (1,246)

Lately you’ve been showing up in my dreams.

I wake up and all I can think is how unfair it is that you’re not here.

How many years have passed,

Remember quitting smoking?

I never realized I had picked up your addiction to Dr Pepper.

I suppose it’s keeping you real with me.

You’ve been showing up in my dreams

I tell you everything is fine

I turned out just fine

The years fade away

You were there on Monday

And gone on Thursday

And suddenly

All I had was a memory …

Sometimes I think I should find the old me

That I’m treading water

Then I remember

Things we always said

And I think about how happy you would be

That I made it

And I don’t hate it.

Hold on to your memories

They are all that keep us alive when we are gone…

The Times (Bleeding Ink 1,245)

They say

The times are changing…

Underneath this sky,

Sometimes I feel older than time

Storm clouds have always been in the background, here,

The train still stalls

Still takes its time

The clouds hang in the sky

But when does the wind ever rise?

Who poured my coffee,

Who slept by the sea,

Who is this face in the mirror staring back at me?

When will my past stop haunting,

This nameless shadow

Moving the furniture

In empty rooms

Occupying corners of my mind…

Who were we back then,

And when did we finish becoming?

Does it ever let go…

Do you still love me,

Is regret on your mind?

Pour the drinks

Set the mood in your eyes

When did we get so busy

When did we stop pursuing each other …

Every day it’s a new News story

New America

New sunrise

Why can’t we change as well…

Does it ever let go…

This feeling

We all want to rhyme

We all want to write

But we never make the time…

Maybe …

These people believe

And believe

To believe

Love to believe

And

Maybe I don’t really want to know …

I’m not holding the answer

I’m just staring at your window

Your picture’s on my phone

Listen,

She’s

Like the first snow

And

My heart slows

I forget to breathe

Every time I see

Her

And maybe we –

Will always be suspended in this time-

Everyone is in the crush – rush- but –

She takes me back

Everything in the room fades

Back to when

Nobody wants to be famous

We all keep the time

The internet is just another black hole

In the back of someone’s mind

And the names we know

They all paid their dues

You know, they broke through…

They worked overtime…

Here we are

Is anything the same?

We cut ties

We buried bodies

We moved in and moved on

We want a stage for whatever we feel…

I had a nightmare

All I could do was plagiarize

I woke up

Slow it down

She slows it down…

Tomorrow is waiting for you

Who dug a hole in the earth

For you to fill with your tired mind

Soon the stars

Will be in the quilted sky

The moon is still constant

The tides will rise

Washing your soul clean

And carry your dreams back home

I love to love her…

I think I will be trying to win her

For all of my tomorrows

They say

The times are changing

But like Dylan said …

I was older then, I’m younger than that now…

Bleeding Ink #1,234

New killer reality

New Stars appear in the sky

Half Past midnight

Jesus sets down

In Midtown

Is everything as it was prophesied

And all the years

That kept going by

All the truths turned to lies

All the tears

Turned to light

The fears we soon forget

How soon

Too soon

All of us

The black stars in the skies

It’s all nuclear

It’s all of us

It’s what we want

It’s what we give away

The ticket to the car ride

The get away

Hey, can we

Stay

Everyday

Getting gray

What’s left but the get away

New Stars in the sky

We’re getting Old

How could we know

News

Hey guys

I’m so thankful

And honored to be featured

Alongside so much talent.

And I’m excited to to announce to you all

I’ve been featured in http://www.zpublishinghouse.com?rfsn=2073867.3b920

Z publishing houses

Emerging Poets Southeast Region

Released today

You can grab a copy in time for the holiday now.

Bleeding Ink 1227

“Let us not despair but act. Let us not seek to fix the blame for the past – let us accept our own responsibility for the future.”

JFK, February 18, 1958

It has been said, that after JFK’s assassination, His brother Bobby was so grief stricken, he took to wearing JFK’s presidential jacket. Often disappearing from the crowded house for long walks around the property alone…coming back smiling…

but the light had gone out…

How do you write what’s never been written before?

what do you say?

I wonder what the world would be like today, if those shots had never been fired?

Maybe these two brothers saw a world no one else wanted to see…

After Bobby was shot

The first thing he said was

“Is everyone ok? Is everyone ok?”

How do we get back to that?

JFK, was wracked with illness and not only war scars but pain every day.

But most of the time no one would have even known.

It’s been said that had he lived, he would have most likely been victim to his illness anyhow.

The world turns and the shadows fall closer to the property lines and the boundaries we’ve made…

The voices echo in the background like static from the past…

Only now, today, we don’t have static, do we? We have streaming,

But the ghosts remains

Like a blood stained flag

In the background

Whether our eyes can comprehend it or not.

What was it like?

Those mornings…

Striving to the future. A better future for everyone.

We like to believe we won’t be touched by the darkness.

But the darkness remains…

Oh that we would remain

With courage and kindness

With the ability to reach out a hand

And take those steps forward

Seeking to leave

A better future

A better tomorrow

For our children…

How do you write what’s never been written?

I imagine you probably can’t

It’s a grief that can’t be written

Those shots fired

The days following

And turning into months

Years

But the ghosts remain

In the background

But so does the courage

And the vision

The kindness

And the ability to dream dreams.

I know we are not perfect and mistakes are always made…

But there is still a room for goodness and even with our faults, we can always reflect the best of ourselves

Our communities and our country.

-Ethan Bethune

Regardingsamuel.com