Toward

Toward

As I was headed
toward elsewhere,
it entered my mind
that I may no longer care.

20150808_091521[1]
I drove by

on my way.
Saw you there,
but had nothing to say.
I s
hould have stopped
to say
 hello.
As
ked how you were,
just to know.
Really, I just wanted
to see the place.
I should have, at least,
seen
 your face.
W
as more comfortable
with the unknown.
I felt a little sad
that you were alone.

IMG_20150710_175544[1]
Feeling better,
knowing that I still care,
I continued on my way

toward elsewhere.

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Yet

“Is it contact or just reaction?
…Is it living, or just existence?
It takes a little more persistence
To get up and go the distance

— Neil Peart – Something For Nothing


Yet

I contended
while you pretended
Yet, it was I
who had to choose…

Hearts choose
Egos bruise
Stubborn minds
light the fuse
A battle of wills

that I would win,
and lose


I retreated

while you depleted
Yet, it was I
who still brought flowers…

Broken flowers
Passionate showers
The uncertainty
filled my hours
Ups and downs
losing their steam,
their odd powers


I rejected
while you reflected
Yet, it was I
who felt the pain…

Too much pain
Nothing to gain
Constant inconsistency
driving me insane
The truck pulled up
to load my life,
once again.

March 26/17


“I’ve been burdened with blame,
trapped in the past for too long,

I’m moving on”

— Rascal Flatts —

Here


HERE

I wake up here, to the sweet sound of nothing
To the peace and the quiet inside my head
To a hush, hiding in the dark
In the drowsy tranquility of your bed
I get lost in the deep lull of my thoughts
In the dulcet tones of my repose
I hear the faintest echo of your breathing
as it comes, and ever so gradually goes

I hear your body move across the sheets
You graze my ear, as you touch my hair
My arm brushes slightly against the duvet
 as I reach to find you there
I feel the weight of your head upon my chest
I feel the warmth of your hand on my thigh
The silence is broken, for the briefest moment
by the contented exhale of my sigh

Here, in the calm of your presence
Here, with the ease of your touch
There is a peace, here in this quiet
And it’s telling me so much
In the comfort of our silence
Here, within this soothing serenity 
I close my eyes, and I listen,
 and Sunday morning whispers to me

If there were just a few more hours
to this perfect time of day
If only, the din of our realities
would kindly stay away
If we could just keep the afternoon
on the other side of the door
We could stay here, in the stillness
and I could hold you, a little more

No words that I need to say here
In the peace of this quiet, I know
I want to hold on to this feeling,
 and to never let it go
Here, in the comfort of our silence
There is no place I’d rather be
I close my eyes, and I listen,
as Sunday morning whispers to me

 

Ahead


Ahead

Looking only forward
To today
To every day
Without the ache
Without the affliction
With nothing in my way

I wake up now,
pain-free
No more agony
accompanying me
No more hesitation,
as I stand
I feel the fortitude
take my hand

With my chin up
and eyes straight ahead
I look past the pain,
that I used to dread 


Looking only forward

at work
at play
With no distress
With no distraction 
With nothing in my way

I face my tasks
head on
Finish the game,
soreness gone
More prepared,
increasingly strong
I feel a resilience
that pulls me along

With my hands steady
and my feet firm
I am fully prepared
for the long-term 


Looking only forward

in all I do
in all I say
With no adversity
With no apprehension
With nothing in my way

I can make plans 
worry free
None of the severity
hindering me
Completely focused
on come what may
I feel my optimism
leading the way

With my mind clear
and ambition alive
I am ahead of myself
when I arrive

IT

                         It

Me:
“If you question its existence
does it therefore exist?
If you never really had it
can it actually be missed?
If you’re not sure you ever found it
can it still be lost?
If you spent no time on it,
is there really any cost?”
(assume that’s the way I talk)

Him:
“Well, it is what is, I guess.”

 Me:
“It’s what?!? Okay then. See ya.”


A philosophical discussion,

that grinds suddenly to a halt.
It’s just a sign of the times
and it is no one’s fault.
He’s run out of words, I guess.
Has nothing else to add.
“It is what it is.” 
What it is buddy, is sad.”

It’s a harsh reality
once it comes out.
“It is what it is.”
As if there was any doubt.
It has to be final,
wouldn’t you say?
“It is what it is”,
so we’ll leave it that way.

I choose to make light of it
and I do mean to mock.
That expression surfaces

and it finishes the talk.
Rather than try to continue
it’s basically cut and run.
You say “it is what it is”
and the conversation’s done.

I know it’s a response, sort of,
but what does ‘it’ mean?
It leaves so many lines
to read in between.
So much to interpret
that it doesn’t mean shit.
“It is what it is”.
But really, what is it?

It is hard to stomach
when it comes around.
Many people say it now,
so you choke it down.
It leaves a bad taste
but you swallow your pride
“It is what it is” apparently,
so open wide.

I am glad someone told me
or I may never have known.
And now that we all know
its cover is blown.
“It is what it is”
and that’s where we’re at.
“It is what it is”,
now the bag has no cat.

It might be what it is, but,
seriously, what does it mean?
Can it be what it is, or was
if it has never been?
It may be what it is.
It may be just because.
It may never be again,
whatever it maybe was.

If it is what it is
is it all that bad?
Could it perhaps be something 
that you never had?
Can you forget about it
if you never really knew?
Well, “it is what it is”,
so I guess you just do.

So let’s just say “it is what it is”,
though I’m not sure it ever was.
If I can believe “it is what it is”,
then I suppose everyone does.
So, it must be what it is,
and that must be where it’s at.
“It is what it is”.
 I guess that’s that.

“That’s that”?
That’s what?!?
Oh no, here we go again.
Straight into another rut.
I’ve got no time for this, or ‘that’,
and now I need to take a wiz.
So let’s just say that that is that…
If that’s what it is?

Selfless

       Selfless

These thoughts
were written
with both
respect and regret
about The Most
Selfless Person
that I
have ever met

I can’t imagine
a kinder man
Quiet of words
and soft of heart
A loving Father
Wonderful Grandfather
Doing far more
than just his part

His time
became your time
Always going
out of his way
Whenever anyone
needed anything
At any hour
On any day

Tireless Volunteerhockey ice
Generous and warm
Patient and calm
Unselfish and true
What seemed like
nothing to him
meant everything
to you

Always thinking
of others first
That’s just how
he chose to live
Giving everything
of himself, and more
Until he had
no more to give

Robert Joseph Leo
Friend to many
Known to most
as Bobby Breen
He was Bob, to me
And he was also 
The Most Selfless Man
that I
have ever seen

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