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little fish darters dart
in little dirty rivers.
bigger fish flock in open seas
with hardened souls …
while so inflamed, their livers,
midst leftover plastic cruds
and dead, post-angry bees.
what’s the point of all of this?
does anybody know?
and what’s it we’re all doing
so makes it so?
I am breaking apart in your eyes
Underneath this brilliant disguise
I am truly nothing
I am broke in the middle of the road
like the love we used to show
I am truly nothing
Nobody told me
That this would always haunt me
Forever and more
Just look at me, I am going no where
Broken down, in this time share
I have no one to cry to
I have no one to be with now
I am truly nothing
my heart, is nothing
my eyes, are blinded
and I am a failure
to you and to everyone, who ever tried
Our dreams fall like feathers in the sunlight
So slowly and graceful
We sit and listen to the sounds of the vast ocean
How it beats and pummels its way onto those jagged rocks below
In the distance a fog horn blows to warn
All of those born at sea
Clouds block out the sun
And bring darkness down on you
And at that moment I wanted-
To tell you everything I ever thought or felt
But the fear swells in me
And spreads throughout my body
A RAIN IN A SUMMER DAY
A RAIN IN A SUMMER DAY
——————————-
IT IS TOO HOT AND BURNING MY FACE
THOUGH I WEAR THE GLASS AND HAT
NOTHING COOLS ME EVEN A TREE CNNOT DO
MY TRAVEL CONTINUES HOURS TOGETHER
SWEATING AND IRRITATION IN MY EYES
PREVENT ME TO TRAVEL FURTHER
I CROSSED AND STOPPED MY TRAVEL UNDER A TREE
SECONDS HAVE GONE.
CLOUDS ENCROACHES THE COMPLETE SKY
GENTLE WIND BLOWS ON MY SWEAT AND ON MY FACE
Karen and I drove
down the seedy part
of Brookpark Road
in Cleveland.
On one side of the street were boarded up strip clubs
with one sole survivor:
The old "Crazy Horse"
across from the Days Inn
where they charge by the hour
and the skanks come 2 for 1.
But the neon was burnt out
on a few of the letters
making the sign read:
"The Crazy Ho."
We savored the luscious irony. In the morning when it’s dark
and I’m not yet awake
I shall give Him praise.
I will give praise this morning
for my limited time
and for the gifts He gave,
and for the things He didn’t.
I will be a father,
worse than a crowded
hotel lobby, where
men hurt their arms
lifting bags far
too heavy, to impress
women thick with perfume
who stand pursed
expectantly–
worse than the spoiled
air fresheners of
hospitals, high on
morphine before they
shut their eyes and
close for the night
permanently–
worse than both of these
must be your waiting
quarter behind a boulder
made of steel
The Night is young
& full of rest
I can’t describe
the way she’s dress’d
She’ll pander to some strange
requests
Anything that you suggest
Anything to please her guest
Inside I hide
Looking for my inner-guide
Lost within
Letting go of mortal sin
Falling fast
Remembering the dead hand of the past
But now I stand
In my very own promised land
So much older now we look back and laugh
At everything we have ever done
So much of dreams deceit
I am not prepared to figure these things out
So much for being safe inside your heart
Then you kicked me out
But in this extremity you fall for the words
You pull the black from the gray
And allow the night to turn to day
But its the little things that go by unnoticed
The smile on the face of a stranger
Or the losing of weight
Take me back to the older days
And the more bolder ways