I’m sorry you were alone when the faces drifted away. When your days got stolen and good nights emptied. Just a vessel that you God, abandoned. Someone who gave up her soul before she was given one. Where were you when she asked to remember? Why did you punish her when all she did was repeat your name in prayer? Lord, her story deserved a better ending. At least, you could have allowed her to say goodbye to her favourite characters. But, I bet she forgave you too, after paying a toll at the gate. Not for herself… …for me.
The other night, I looked up for the moon To ask him for a small favour “Knock for me…at that heaven’s door” I was alone and needed someone in particular not only did sky open up and become ours the clouds even came by for a listen
It was as midnight as midnight could be that late, dogs cried at the moon all the way down as I followed you straight to an early grave not once knowing ignorant, childish, wishing for my own home we shared nothing no words, not a glance, not even…presence only fading footsteps in the rain before you went to a place you felt you had to regret I held in a subtle hello maybe I would have turned it off stood a final chance and shooed the voice away from you but when lady death came teasing your ear? there was no way I, me… someone who would just threaten a made up mind compete that night with deathly songs of teenage tragedy singing you toward an infinite dark by the tune of your own broken heart stealing any lust left for tomorrow then I watched as you walked toward the Bluest Oyster never to see you again
Today, I don’t want to exist. Tomorrow is fine, but not today. Today, I don’t deserve anything. I hate the happiness, I hate the gift ideas. I hate the attempts to cheer me up from friends and family. I hate cards, I hate phone calls, I hate the internet. I hate robbing my stepfather from his day, I’m so damn sorry. I hate Sundays, I hate barbecues, I hate gatherings and music. I hate being called something I’m not, stop telling me different. Stop!!! It only encourages me and I lie to myself again. I’m not a Dad a son or daughter wishes were still with us. I’m not a Dad a son or daughter celebrates beating Cancer. I’m not a Dad a son or daughter begs freed from behind bars. I’m not even a Dad a son or daughter forgives for his mistakes. I’m not a Dad…and I have all the scars to prove it.
Dead of winter as the winds howl I’m still out there searching for you footprints quickly cover forgetting how far I’ve come my hands, no longer feel my breath, stolen my eyes, blinded by this storm my heart, almost empty my will…unbroken
I dream some days of getting lost in the path along the quiet way home way past the halfway evergreen under those forest peekaboos just to listen to the river as it runs
A cold beer ran down my lips, to my chin in a moment I knew would last a lifetime there was a pool table…balls racked ready for a break some girl singing on the radio we both sang a few of the words those we could remember all night we competed best in banter, best in billiards, best in brew, but never best in friends that belonged to you
I wanted to drop in and let you all know that one of my most recent poems has been published on Spillwords. It’s live as of today. I submitted it a little while ago, they liked it, and informed me last week of their intention to share it for their own audience. It made my day and gave me something to smile about given the world’s current state. (A post about that is coming) Now, some of you have already read this poem here on my site, but I thought I would go ahead and share it once more to help take our minds off some of the craziness that’s going on.
As always, I hope you enjoy it. Please don’t forget to comment and tell me what you think. It’s all of you and your continued support that drives my writing and I’m lucky to have such a awesome following.