31

Maybe

The morning picks up the pieces

You cast away in the night

Stitches them together with wind and bone

Maybe you don’t get the life you first believed

When you were young

You won’t age another year at the stroke of midnight in someone’s arms

You’re just an alcoholic poet

And you’re on your own

And maybe I just can’t silence

All the words in my head

And my thoughts are filled to full

Maybe I feel alone in crowds

Maybe her blue eyes

They help me stand up

Maybe they catch the silver sunlight

Maybe she’s the queen of all I’ve seen

Maybe

I figured out we don’t live forever

Maybe there’s a ghost that follows me

Reminding me

Of the view from the grain of sand

The salt in the water

Where did these weights come from

Who built this home?

Who put this sadness here ?

There are notes I cannot play

There is grief here

Maybe we are the same

Maybe someone has something worse

Maybe it’s the friend that’s sick

“I think I’m sick. Maybe I have what you have…” he said. Recently he found out he has cancer…

Maybe it’s the constant pressure to be and provide and succeed

Maybe it’s knowing we are not permanent and I may not have enough time to be all that I wanted to be

Maybe the morning will pick up the pieces I cast away at night…

Everything changes so fast, we are not what we once was…I hope you know…some days you are not what you want to be

I hope you know,

I hope you

I hope

I hope

You know

Fires burn out

You never know what’s coming for you

Things end

Friends die

Loss hurts

And there is a pain

That doesn’t go away

And maybe I’m running from poverty

I’m running for my dream

Like some people run from gluten

And body fat

But in 3 minutes I will be 31

And I remember 3 minutes of tornadoes

I remember 3 minute seizures

I remember there are lifetimes

There are empires built on sand

Inside three minutes

—/

Maybe you’re never what you thought you’d be

But there is still morning

And no one owes you anything

So write to her

About her eyes and the morning

And her beauty

Because all of this ?

This is fleeting

And you won’t be here…

Fight it

Hold on

It will not change it a jot

You can not change what has been

Write letters

They are textured

They are sacred …

I tell myself to get up

I tell myself to be as I was

But I don’t know how

I don’t know how

Interior blue

We make from the interior of sadness

Poetry

From the fires of life

We create art

I was inspired

To write this

After

Wanda Coleman’s poem “Wanda Why Aren’t You Dead

It is not an attempt to replicate

It simply opened my eyes to bringing our demons to light

——

I am intrigued by you

I am curious about you

You make me nervous

I cannot put a label on you

Why do you dress the way you do

You always dress up

Why don’t you just relax

You’re not like anyone around here

Why are you still here

Why are you here, why haven’t you left yet …

You are not a writer

Don’t write about your pain

Write what you want to write

You don’t want to be a burden

Don’t whine

You stupid fuck

You’re not a real writer

You’re just like your father

You’re a failure

You’ll probably die young

You’re vomiting randomly

You’re probably dying

Crohns

Don’t be picky about your food

You ate potatoes growing up

You know, no one is really going to love you

No one is really going to be attracted to you

You’re too fucking weird

You’re probably even bad at sex

You’re a quitter

You quit your career

You left your marriage

You left your town

You’re running

You’re less than nothing

You will never be happy

Why are you still here?

You’re going to keep faking it

You’re too much for people

They are merely curious

Nothing else

Why haven’t you killed yourself yet?

You know, no one else will ever want to sleep with you…

You’re too awkward

Your stomach

Your scar

Why does your stomach growl so much ?

Can’t you make it stop?

You’re too thin

Omg I hate thin guys

Why don’t you just let yourself have a dad bod

You work too much

You should relax

Just take all of your sleeping pills

Then you can relax

You know I’m going to kill you right?

You will probably die alone

Like your dad

Why are you even still here

Didn’t you go to college?

Oh my god, I feel so bad that you didn’t go to real school

You must be so dumb

There is nothing here for me

There’s no reason for me to be here

I hate everyone here

I feel like you’re suddenly your own person

You want your secrets and your life

You walked out

Quitter

You gave up

I thought you were different but you ended up being just like the rest of them, selfish trash.

You will never have a marriage like your grandparents

It’s not your fault

It’s not your fault

Love doesn’t have to hurt

You can let yourself have a flare up

You don’t have to write it funny

You can vomit as soon as you get home

And it just be a flare up

You can eat cheesecake

You can write how you feel

You are still you

You’re going towards something good

You are ok

You don’t have to be perfect

You don’t have to be perfect

You can be good

You can be good

You are enough

You tried your best

Your best was more than enough

Because it was still – you

You

Are

Someone’s

Something

Make someone’s day easier

Let them know when you think about them

You never know who you will lose

Let it go

You never know what’s coming for you

You are broken but still whole

Be here now

2020 #45

I just want to be good…

All my cards are on the table

No one is going to bail me out

If I don’t make it

It’s easy to say there’s more to life than money

When you haven’t been without it

The enemy of good is perfect

What’s the use

I wear this bruise

Can I make it through

I’m dreaming out loud

I’m running t

Who are the ones

Who made promises

Out there late at night

That they would get out

And those friends are gone now

Who else is running

A race

For their younger self

For their friends that are already dead

Even though

They will never see them

Cross the finish line

Do you know the pain

I carry every single day

Do you know

That emptiness

How low those roots go

Maybe

We really can have too much

Maybe

We just pack ourselves with light

And distraction

Maybe

Poverty

Real poverty

Leaves a scar

I remember potatoes

Every winter breeze through the window

Maybe there’s a kid over there

Who knows about playing football

On a frozen driveway

Maybe

I keep putting things off

And I’m afraid

And

When it’s late at night

I pour a drink

And I see her eyes

In the stars in the sky

And I’m afraid

Of what I feel

I write some words

And I send them her way

All I have is empathy

All I have is poetry

All I know

Is how to be me

All I know is

Time is running

I am running

But remember

There’s a kid out there

Who’s going to see your story

There’s a kid out there

Living something similar

You’re not alone in this

You can’t do what everyone else is doing

We live in a do what feels right

Do what feels good in the moment

But that’s what children do

We are not children

We come from adults

We have witness in heaven

And we plan

We make goals

We have a personal responsibility

To ourselves

To our communities

To our dreams

No one else will get it

They don’t have to

It’s not my parents fault

It’s not anyone’s fault

I’m just tired of kissing up to banks

For credit

I’m tired of living a life that is not mine

I’m tired of sitting in crowds of people

That are always looking for the next feel good drag.

I’m going somewhere

I know what I want

I want peace

I want comfort

I want freedom

I want passion

I want love

I want to be better than I was yesterday

Better than I was last year

There is a line that only loss

Writes

And I carry it with me

Like a rose

Regardingsamuel

Bleeding Ink 1,604

There’s all these voices

I look around the room

I close my eyes

Some raise a glass

Expect me to just hate women

My phone blows up

“Look at this.”

“Go to therapy.”

“Take 4 years.”

Everyone has an opinion

I watch the room

I spent all those years

Doing what I thought was best

Buying flowers

Writing letters

Making dinner

Dances in the kitchen

I still didn’t do everything right, I guess

It’s not one persons fault

I won’t complain

I’m not going to cry in my beer

I’ve seen that

Too too many times

I watch the room

I feel nothing

I feel nothing at all

That’s the worst part

I don’t hurt

I’m not angry

I cannot possibly drink enough

And I feel nothing at all

“You know what you should do? You should go sniff and hit everything you can.”

But I feel nothing at all…

Only the blues

There’s an isolation inside

And I know

There’s going to be a morning

When the sun will rise

And I will only write

About that deep blue

That is her eyes

Just give it time

Even the sea is calm

At the darkest of the night

And I try to think

But the words can’t be found

And I try to drink

But there’s never enough

So I watch the room

And accept this too

This feeling – Nothing

Hoping I don’t become some kind of

Bitter southerner

That’s all

I don’t want to be hung up

I don’t want to be bitter

They expect me to just hate

But have you ever

Talked for hours with a woman

Danced without hesitation

Read until the morning

With her hand in your hand

And her head on your chest

There’s a thousand other intimacies

She gives you before you’re in her bed

I know this will pass

This feeling nothing

Bleeding Ink 1,518

Time out of mind

My insides are stone

All I do is groan

What kind of love….she said

Cold hands

I’m free

But when the lights go down

When the traffic is tight

While I’m waiting

I still hear him

I still see him

Stomping

Yelling

Who knew

Marriage was war

——-

She feels herself slipping away

She sees him

And feels the blow from his words

The blow from his hands

That selfish way he demands

——

It’s a long way

Long way from home

She has that vacant stare in her eyes

Like a war vet

You know she’s reliving it

——

She’s praying for salvation

——

Hoping she can still touch things gently

There’s nothing left to see…

Nothing left to say

He may not hit you

But he may cut your off from your circle

He may cut you down

He may gaslight you

He may suddenly twist it

And make you feel like

Your feelings are invalid

He may sit down and portray a conversation

But it’s really just conditioning you

So you can go back to the way he needs you

He may be nice here

And over there

And those little moments feel so bright

Because they are so few and so far

——

What does it matter now

There’s barely light here now

I’m always reaching

But I can never find

Is there some way out

Some piece of me left?

Just buckets of pain

Buckets of rain

Cities on fire

I’m not even crying

Barely even trying

What’s the point

My heart broke some time ago …

Now there’s just

Flashes of colour

Flashes of pain

What is there left here to spare ?

2020 #38

He wondered

What the future would hold

What it would be like

Going back in

If he could go back to being somewhat Neutral

Private

How, if in someway, maybe, he could help his people, keep them safe….

This was the frontlines

And he thought about how every man

Every individual

Has to mentally prepare themselves

Not unlike a paratrooper

Just getting dropped into a zone

You do that work yourself

Mentally

You change on a dime if your circumstances change

You adjust

You let things go

He hoped

Inside

That he was good

He just wanted to be good

2020 #34

Hey mister writer

Write a page for me

Tell me about these days

I have no words left to play

Her eyes leave me stumbling

Cut right through me

All I feel is hunger

We’re all just beggars in the street

Left wanting

And our lists are growing

But I see the sunset through the trees

I think I would be alright

With just one more drink tonight

If I could hear her laugh

And not to cry

If I could see those eyes

And open up my heart

Far past the smoke inside my mind

for this, her dagger…

Hey mister writer

Write a page for me

I’m left caught inside a muse

I’ll catch up to you

All I have is this hunger

The world is in its slumber

Maybe tomorrow will be kind ….

To the muse

To you

We will all have somewhere to go

In the sunset of my mind

The words will all align

And I’ll be there with you

2020 #30

The older I get

The more I begin to see this play out

1 in 4 women and 1 out of 6 men are sexually abused in their lifetime; (Department of Justice) In 8 out of 10 rape cases, the victim knows the attacker; (Department of Justice)

In case you never heard or someone never told you….

Consent is easy

It can be taught to a child

If she’s not into it

It’s not cool

Stop immediately

If she changes her mind

Just stop

No is a full sentence

If you’re at work

Just treat all the women like they are Dwayne Johnson

You’ll be ok.

Consent doesn’t have to be difficult or confusing. It’s really that simple.

And of course this goes for everyone.

I know, you never really know a person.

Or what goes on behind closed doors

I know men get told a lot of what to do and what not to do

But the same goes for women…

Just because he’s aroused doesn’t mean he’s consenting

There’s that confusion even for the victims of all events ——

Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you’re owed anything

You still need consent

And also

If no one ever told you

You don’t have to hook up at work

Or with your boss

Your job can be just that

A job

So you can pay bills

Consent is when you’re both excited about it

Nothing should be a duty

Or a chore

Or a burden

Life is too short for that

So if you’ve never heard

Now you’ve heard

Top shelf (loaded)

Old love

No love

Be love

Used love

——-

I write to kill

I kill to write

I lay down these words

Like shots on paper

It’s loaded

——-

Hold up

Back up

6ft from the dream

I know you’re fed up

Wore out

Used

And abused

Stretched out

This year is a dead zone

This water’s hot and it’s getting even hotter

try to dream but it’s poison

Be on the right side of history

Everyday is new headline

And you’re stroking out

Stepping the line

It’s over

Now

Refocus your vision

Adjust the antenna

You’ve got to feed and water your dream

Your vision

Get yourself back in this race

All we have is time

Enjoy it

But use it

Use it like top shelf

you can’t afford to waste

So when they get a shot of you

They’ll be willing to invest

——-

I’m stepping back to the details

If you’re gonna be with me

You’re gonna see my dream

We shoulda been like the real Obama’s

Powerhouse couple

Details matter

Blow the roof off of this room

Look at the blood on these steps

I’ve been climbing for centuries

This isn’t rock bottom

It coulda been worse

Treat yourself better

You’re the first draft pick to your own dreams

——-

She walks into the room like she just bought it

She knows what she wants and she gets it

She deals the cards like it’s the hand that she wanted

Here’s the secret

I don’t know an adult that has all the answers

We do the best that we can until we can do better

The whole world is faking

But when you get together

You don’t have to tear someone down to build yourself up better

Silence is power

Listen, words matter…

Hold yourself up

Treat yourself better

If she’s your queen she’ll treat you like her king.

They might say it’s improbable but you won’t hear it because you’ll be unstoppable.

Don’t believe the truth

Image origin unknown

How long can the moon stay hidden?

How long can the sun stay hidden?

How long can the truth stay hidden?

She feels everything deeply

Set apart

On this self isolated ship

Who knows what forms care takes

——

She has revolution for breakfast

She brings it to my bed

You can taste the eclipse on her lips

——

These days are dangerous

I still don’t know, but maybe, I know,

I said I’m tired,

She says she’s wired,

She’s electric

Revolutionary dreams

She’s got the means

She dreams in daylight

——

Her come here eyes

The curve of her body

Her, get back now, couldn’t care less,

Like the ash from her cigarette

She’s hard to forget….