button encrusted, denim warmth-giver
no leather. no letter. no ring.
just a temporary gift to cut the chill
“just” …
psychedelic, groovy foot-thumper
no mush. no promise. no expectations.
just an album shared
“just” …
button encrusted, denim warmth-giver
no leather. no letter. no ring.
just a temporary gift to cut the chill
“just” …
psychedelic, groovy foot-thumper
no mush. no promise. no expectations.
just an album shared
“just” …
days roll into weeks; weeks — years; years to a lifetime.
and still I never could.
strangers become friends; friends — lovers ; and love is forever.
but I never could.
heart sends words; words — mouth; mouth stays silent.
because I never could.
I never could.
I never should.
…I never would…
silence to words; words to paper; paper to you.
strangers to friends; friends to strangers; then back again.
a lifetime rolls back into days.
And I Was.
One day we were.
And then we weren’t.
And I wanted to cry.
I still was.
But you were not.
And you became relegated to the recesses of my mind.
And I forgot to cry.
One day I found you again.
And we were again.
But you weren’t you. And I wasn’t me.
So we weren’t us anymore.
So I cried.
And I still am.
Alone, my thoughts, my fears envelop me.
Awake, asleep, at work — without you there.
I reminisce; the memories abound,
True, some have fled, but eyes yet see your face;
I still can smell your hair — your scent — your tea.
If you ask me how I’m doing;
If you wonder how I’m feeling;
I will lie to you.
I’ll tell you I’m fine.
Things are going OK.
I might hint at the truth of the matter.
I might stumble through my words.
I might give you a half-truth.
I might give you a non-answer.
But I’ll probably never tell you the truth.
I’m not fine.
Things are not OK.
I’m drowning in fear and worry.
You probably ask because you care.
But I am not capable of believing it.
Because I don’t care. So how could you?
We are all conditioned to hear these questions as small talk.
We are all conditioned to respond in kind.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Fine, you?”
“Yeah, nothing much.”
…
Look around, it’s easy to see
the worst parts of humanity.
You hear them spew hatred and fears,
suicide stories; few shed tears.
Hiding behind a shield of brass
makes it easy to kick some ass.
Now look again, more closely still:
see those who stand; sheer force of will.
I Got Your Back; Hands Up Don’t Shoot!
All of us share a common root.
A wall of love, support and trust.
So stand we all together must!.
There are no lesser people here
It’s time to put away your fear.
Wherever I might go today;
It does not matter if I stay
Or walk or run or step in stride;
You come along; you’re right beside.
Wherever my two feet might land,
If tucked away or in my hand;
My phone ensures that in the end,
You are my omnipresent friend.
Everything lasts “until”…
Iron rusts to dust,
Glass shatters to shards,
The Titanic met an iceberg.
Everything eventually expires.
Love, Life, Laughter.
Yes, everything expires.
Cold, Gold, and Mold.
So hold on to the precious… “until”
But know that even the pain will pass.
studying Picasso I suddenly empathize
with those whom I generally criticize.
“stop pretending art is hard.”
“stop pretending. art is hard.”
artists make it seem so effortless
to craft a scene with cleverness.
“stop pretending art is hard.”
“stop pretending. art is hard.”
but when the truth is full well told
it takes some work to change shit to gold.
My mind jumps to the cliché;
“Possibilities” and “endless” spring to my head unbidden.
Explore it more; think of the … DAMN! more clichés leap into view!
“Choices”, “Options”, “Possibilities” … no, No, NO!
a myriad of stars in the heavens…
the grains of sand on a beach,
NO! I will not use these trite clichés.
The problem presents itself as a solution:
There simply are not a myriad of ways
to conjure words to discuss the feelings “myriad” evokes.