Moments

We share a secret laugh.
"Look at that ring," I start to whisper to you.
Your eyes silence me with an almost deafening
scream.
"but the ring," I start again. "It's like a seal."
You try not to laugh.
Stifling.
You lose the moment and hide it.
Cough, cough, cough.
And your eyes come to mine again,
only this time it's not a scream.
It's a smile.
Glinting.
A quiet belly laugh.
And the sun peeks out from behind the clouds for a
moment.
He's been tickled and wants to see who did it.
But the clock ticks forward, and the moment
ends.
So I sit in my corner and pretend to understand what's going on.
The sunlight gives way to the cold.
I step into the wind and hope the four pieces hold together a little longer.
A weight attaches to my leg, and the label reads failure.
Contemplation allows another parasite to attach. This one named compassion.
Willpower is not enough, and fear grows stronger.
The blue glow of hope fades.
As my knees hit the ice, you keep walking too fast.
"I'm here," I say. The scream is stifled like your laugh and comes out as a
whisper.

And when all is said and done, there is a small ember,
hiding,
in the personal hearth, and it will burn soul into tatters.

Patience

If I could hit rock bottom,
I could push off and start up toward the surface.
Weighed down by the twin stones of shame and anger
I struggle against the murky depths.
"Pointless," the first voice screams.
My hollow chest answers with an echo.
I attempt to pull up again.
"Fleeting," the next voice laughs.
My arms and legs burn with the last of life.
Thrashing.
Seven small rays of light shine through, but are unattainable, unreachable.
"Let go," the last voice whispers.
Still waters pull me to God's face.
And the infinite silence is my welcoming party.

Dream or nightmare? I don't know anymore.

Lesson Learned

Your hand in mine,
Like a gnat on a truck.
A snore as loud as a mewing kitten
Trickles in my ear and wakes me.

The hands are soft while enclosed in mine.

You are the proof good exists;
The answer to the question of why we are here.
Your time here is a fraction of mine, but you are stronger
And aptly named.

A moment, and my eyes are reflected back at me.
A knowing smile to say that all is well before returning to Nemo.
Fear grips me again as the full timeline plays out,
But a sigh and small hand alleviates this.

This is a journey taken with each other.
I will battle the monsters;
You will teach the lessons.
Together we will help her.

You move in a zig-zag and constantly call for catching.
The crowd bows to your charm and bends to your name.
But I thank you for your real lesson.
For the very essence of why you're here for me

Thank you for teaching me the three words,
of wisdom, of caring, and of existence:

I love you.

Now go to sleep.

Babble

Our words don't mesh.
Up is red,
Black is purple,
Right is blue,
Lies are gold.

Our views don't sync.
You see a hero,
I see a villain.
I see a good heart,
You see flaws.

Our ideals aren't met.
My ground is firm as rock,
Your sky is limitless.
Your soul sings like the sun streaking across the sky.
My soul no longer exists. A casualty of benign dictatorships.

And yet, we both are caretakers.
Me of you.
You of them.
We for those coming with us.
And the rest.

Words die off the vine, and I can no longer hold on.
You cut with the stronger sword and leave me vulnerable.
A bleeding stone, a sinking island, a dulled knife.

The mirror cracks, and I shatter.
With no glass, there is nothing there.
I'm on the wrong side of the skin.

What does it matter?
The words are not understood

And the tower is finished.
How can this be?

Inkling Wordled

The poem, "Inkling", put through Wordle.

Celluloid

The movies say two people fall in love and are
together forever.
But the movies always end before the real life begins.
Fighting.
Struggles.
Jealousy.
Bitterness.
Regret.
Sometimes.

The prince cannot be on a white horse if he's holding down a 9 to 5.
The princess can be a great beauty but only if she let's go of her insecurities.
The villain sometimes wins.

So the princess has an affair with the villain to regain the thrill,
and the prince dies when his horse throws him awkwardly.

But daddies don't tell their little girls these stories,
because hope is the only currency of youth.

So the painted prince and drawn princess constantly smile
the happy ending
for us.

Dull Edges

It takes a mere second

to end a happy moment.

It takes a small movement

to create the ripple in the pond.

A dark shadow

hidden

behind a pretty mask.

I stood there to hold your world.

A small trick, and the world tilted.

I reached out to catch, to hold, to save.

As ripened fruit

Plummeting.

Not fast enough.

A glance of your face passing by into nothingness.

Not nearly fast enough.

Hercules winks, and I cannot move.

Fire burns deep within and cannot be satiated or quenched.

You leave me here, a failure, to hold up the others.

And the only reality is the pain of your absence.


The world keeps spinning, the sands of time keep flowing,

but the color is drained.

So am I.

Not an Artist

This is a poem about nothing.
There is no point.
There is no hidden meaning.

This is a poem about nothing.
There is no allusion of silence and sadness.
This is no simile like the clipped wings of an Eagle.

This is a poem about nothing.
The art of words is lost.
It's just words flattened out on a page.

This is a poem about nothing.
Don't read deeply because you won't get lost.
A meaning is nothing without heartless words.

This is a poem about nothing.
Is est a poema super nusquam.
Nothing about this is a poem.

This....

Now do you understand?

Rules

A quiver.
A moment.
Like a needle being pressed to the flesh, the muscles spasm.
The bow is plucked.
A heart soars with an arrow.
Plunging toward an empty soul.
Nowhere.
Someone.
A strike that is felt within me.
Awash.
I feel your tension within release
and stand naked to intentions.
Darkness masks the desires that are unleashed alone.
Forgoing a punch-drunk love and scoop the pieces back.
Proper places.

And the still life remains perfect to the discerning eye.

Dichotomy

What is passion?

What is lust?

A necessary part of a relationship?

An act of nothing more than primal nature?

An emotional desire.

A physical longing.

To connect at the center of being.

To make two become one.

Love.

Desire.

Her heart.

Her body.

Yet which is stronger?

A relationship needs both.

But one will inevitably win out.

The heart?

The body?

The soul?

Her being.

But these two rule the gender to which I belong,

And they make us stupid.