The Girl

She moved with grace like Eve among the trees,
in her world without sin, without shame and guilt
before the serpent brought man to his knees
before the first altar had ever been built.

Her face was filled with the purest smile,
a radiant, rapturous sign of joy
without pretense, without thought, without guile -
only her innocence could call it coy.

She closed her eyes as the sun kissed her face
and spread her arms to welcome morning's rays.
She sighed as she felt the world's warm embrace,
seeing at last the folly of man's ways.

Oh, how did we ever come to believe
that there was sin in the nature of Eve?

The Dark Side

There is, I agree, a dark side to me
that likes to come and talk and drink some tea.
We discuss life, love and futility.

He is a wicked whisperer of doubt
usually rushing to let it all out,
speaking at times with a passionate shout.

Then he grabs his hat and is on his way
and knowing he'll be back again some day
leaves me wondering what he didn't say.

What new surprises will he have in store
the next time he shows up at my door?
I'm not sure that I can take many more...

Being human, this is as it should be -
there is and will be a dark side to me.

The Woods in Winter

When a gray cloud of confusion hovers
over the life that I have made for me
I know that a quiet calmness covers
the woods in winter where I long to be.

When my peace of mind's lost and not yet found
and my own company I cannot keep
that is when I know that I should be bound
to the woods in winter where the trees sleep.

When the crumpled paper's piled too high
then I'll push back from my desk and I'll go
to the most quiet place beneath the sky -
the woods in winter, covered deep in snow.

When it's peace and quiet I need to find
the woods in winter calm my troubled mind.

The King of the Land of Regret

I am the king of the land of regret.
I am the seer of all that might have been.
I am the empty promise, the bad debt.
I am the gambler that can never win.

I am the sad ghost of my ambition.
I am the shadow of what I should be.
I am the unrepentant contrition.
I am the painting you will never see.

I am the shriveled seed stored on a shelf.
I am the dream forgotten when waking.
I am the ego in search of a self.
I am the plan always in the making.

I am the telephone that never rings.
I am the letter that was never sent.
I am the song bird that no longer sings.
I am the rose without a pleasant scent.

I am the sum of all I was before.
Given that, shouldn't I be so much more?

The End

There's not anything that you need to say.

Like birds in autumn know they should fly south

I know that soon, maybe even this day

those tired old sad words will fly from your mouth.

It is funny how I could see the end

how I knew that this pretending was done.

Don't even think of calling me your friend -

that's like I'm just some random anyone.

Perhaps that's really all that I could be

after all so many parts of my life

were not ever really left up to me.

It's hard to love in a life full of strife.

So let's just turn away and say goodbye

and fool ourselves that it was a good try.

The Night

Night came to me
robed in moonlight.
Shimmering, silvery, seductively,
she walked to me

...and by a finger she led me
with the promise of delight.

Night said to me,
 Do not listen to the dogs that bark!
 Be not afraid of the deadly dark!
 Stare into the stars that are my eyes!
 Feel the soft breezes that are my sighs!

She threw a wisp of mist about me
and pulled me after her.
I followed her willingly, cautiously,
curiously, warily, wondering where she was leading me
...but not really wanting to see.

Then her veil was pierced by a ray of light
and I saw there was nothing there
no face beneath her veil,
no arms within her mists.

I heard her laugh as she faded away
 Remember all that you heard me say!
 I'll be back at the end of day
 and though you'll resist with all your might
 you will surrender to the night!

What I See

A world of ididots!  A world of fools!
A world of vainglorious capitalist tools!

A world of pain!  A world of hurt!
A world where everyone's rude and curt!

A world of sadness!  A world of sorrow!
A world where everyone fears tomorrow!

Is this the world in which I must now dwell?
Is this the world I have now made for me?
I begin to fear that I cannot tell
between the nightmare and reality.

A world of schemes!  A world of dreams!
A world where nothing is as it seems!

A world of angst!  A world of fear!
A world where the end is so very near!

A world of words!  A world of rhyme!
A world that's finally run out of time!

Am I now living in a private hell?
Did I really make all that I can see?
I'm just waiting here for the final bell
and when it rings then I will be set free!

The Reason

Let me make this perfectly crystal clear-
the sole and only reason I'm still here,
the main reason that my show isn't done...

I can't afford the bullets or the gun.

This is the only reason I can give
for each breath I take and each day I live.
If fate saw fit to give me half a choice
you wouldn't be listening to this voice.

Instead you'd be reading an empty page,
not another metered musing of rage.
There would be nothing here for you to see
if the ultimate choice were left to me.

But now it's time to stop this rhythmic whine
and go back to pretending life is fine.

Missing

There is no "You and I".
That crawled off long ago
and found a lonely place to die.

Instead there is a "You"
and then there is an "I"...
not together, but separate - not one, but two.

I imagine I should be sad
there should be some sense of loss
some emotion, some hurt, even just feeling bad...

But when I look deep in my heart
there is nothing there - it is empty, cold, and bare.

You can't miss that of which you were never a part.

To Refudiate or Not To Refudiate...

I wrote this many months ago, but decided to post it now.

I normally don't make comments on political figures. My Dad taught me that a gentleman does not discuss his politics, his relationship to his God or the merits of a young lady in public. But when a modern political figure tries to cover a gaffe (Sarah Palin Refudiate tweet) by comparing themselves to William Shakespeare, I have to do something...

So I took the immortal bard's Sonnet Number 18:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

and changed a few things to ask the question if we should compare Sarah to William:

Shall I compare thee to Sarah Palin?

Thou art more liberal and eloquent;
Rough words do make plain her every failing,
And summer's tweets show her demented bent;
Sometimes too hot the lights of Fox news shine,
And often is her intellect questioned;
And every rant shows her so out of line,
Yet by her followers is unquestioned;
But thy eternal prose shall never fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall time deny all that you have made,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
Long after Sarah and I cease to be,
your words shall live on through eternity.

And with that I think I've said all I need to say...

Tired

"How are you," she asked.

And the only thing I could think to say, the only thing that came to mind

... was that I am tired.


I am so tired.

I am tired of people asking me how I am
and never really wanting to know the answer,
the truth that hides behind every "fine" or "OK".

The simple truth that I am, really, tired.

Really, really tired.

I am tired of smiling through a day that is just another collection of pain.

I am tired of keeping to the bright side of the street.

I am tired of being strong, of being brave, of pretending again
that I am not just weeping while standing here pretending life is sweet.

I am tired.  So very, voluminously, vociferously, volcanically tired.

And the worst thing about being so tired is that I cannot sleep.
For if I close my eyes, if I try to get some rest,
if I slip into slumber and start to dream, a dream so deep,
I may miss a chance, The Chance that might be my best -

... to get what I need so that I can stop being tired.

And mostly I'm tired, so tired of ... of being me.

I am so tired I do not even know who I would be if I should stop being tired.

Everything about me is so warped, so wrecked, so wrong from being so tired for so long.

Would I even know me should I stop being tired?



"How are you," she said.

And I said I was fine.
I lied, because lying to people that don't want to hear the truth is easier.

It saves the explanations.

It stoppers the uncomfortable silences,
the pretending, the pitying, the posturing that people perform
when they really don't want to know.

I am so tired that I'll say what they expect to hear
instead of what I really should say, the real way
that I am.  How I really am. These conventions that we hold dear,
all the inane, insane, insincere, infantile intimations we say...

… really don’t mean a thing.  Nothing.

They are empty words -
OK.
Fine.

And I am still tired.

I’d curl up and lay my head down
and try to shut my eyes.
But I am so tired
I can't even find the ground when I fall down.

The Best of Me

I know I'm not the man I used to be,
but I think what's left is the best of me.
What you see here, standing right before you,
has been tested and tempered and found true.

Gone, the illusions of a wasted youth
replaced by an understanding that truth
is a malleable and living thing
that changes with every catch that chance brings.

I no longer tilt at every windmill
or try to cure the world of every ill.
Now I chose each battle and when I'll fight
for all those things my heart tells me are right.

No longer am I a wandering boy
turning over stones to try and find joy.
Now instead I am a confident man,
making his world the very best he can.