Yet


Gary's screen shot
Yet

We float our true feelings
around and around and around
We can easily grab onto many,
while some are not easily found
Some seem impossible to conceal,
while others are still tightly bound
Still wrapped up in the past,
they are waiting to be unwound
Yet…
It’s these unwound words, even inadvertently pointed,
that can feel as sharp as they sound

A comment sneaks in and stings you
There, like a wasp without a buzz
A statement that’s not meant to harm,
yet, quite often, it still does
Jabs of memory, cuts of comparison
The flings and arrows of a once was
It takes so very little to belittle
in the context of just because 

Inattentive and thoughtless behavior
when your partner’s life is its most unstable
Checking your phone or checking the scores
Refusing to apologize, when willing and able
The impact of images left open on a computer
The reaction to gloves left behind on a table
Inadvertent, yet thoughtless reminders
we’d like to forget, but are unable

It’s difficult to contain our emotions
from within the confines of fact
To not blurt out our instincts
at the expense of our tact
We burst selfishly out of a shell
that had previously been cracked
A sad excuse, and a symptom,
for a respect so sorely lacked
Yet…
We are ultimately accountable for our words
and the respect that they impact


A relationship is a work in progress

that always starts from behind
That’s why it is far easier said than done
to be always thoughtful and kind
There is the inevitability of the past,
mixed with the today of the daily grind
The challenges of patience and personality
that can flood an open mind
Yet…
We need to keep floating our feelings
and be open to all we may find

You are still adjusting to a calendar of flux,
dotted with those difficult days
I still retract, detract, and then overreact
with the wrong turn of phrase
Some conflict will come, and conflict will go
as we share our common come what mays
Yet, in the reality of our commonalities
the mutual respect must go both ways

 Never do I want be taken for granted,
or to be treated as an afterthought
You absolutely deserve only my best intention
and the best attention I’ve got
This give and take is a delicate balance
that often puts couples on the spot
Fortunately, we have this love on our side
It may not be everything, but it’s quite a lot
Yet…
We struggle sometimes, as we continue to make strides,
trying to give to one other as much as we’d like to get

We are trying our best, for all the best reasons,
Yet, we’re not all the way there,  just yet

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Grey


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Grey

Certainly not what I expected
when I looked anxiously to today
Distractions and detours
Delay after delay
Nothing like I had envisioned
No how.  No way.
A reluctant change of course
Navigating the grey

A wall of grey uncertainty
between you and your goal
A hard place, and a rock
w
hen you’re ready to roll
An unexpected wait
A mirage of elusive control
Asking such a small price
Just patience for your toll

Inside the grey uncertainty
t
ime stands painfully still
Between situation and explanation
Just be calm.  Just remain chill.
Between exasperation and exhaustion
Exhale, slowly, and swallow the pill
In the grey of the uncertainty
c
ome what may, inevitably will


Definitely not what I wanted
when I looked forward to tonight
Dissention and distance
Wrong versus right
Nothing like I had envisioned
On my mind. Out of sight.
The tone of grey reaction
Neither black nor white

Toiling in the grey unknown
of a lost night out
In the variable and the vague
is the unseen and the doubt
A question is the answer
When silence is a shout
Look to the big picture
Just relax, and wait it out

Inside the grey unknown
b
eing oblivious can be a roll of the dice
Between interpretation and explanation

Just be understanding. Just be nice.
Between selfish and self-preservation
Do not make the same mistake twice

In the grey of the unknown
u
npaid attention has no actual price


Trapped, within the nowhere near

of where I want my thoughts to be
Distracted and dismayed
My time feels far from free
Nothing like I had envisioned
Awaiting words. A wait and see.
The quiet of the gray
Speaks volumes to me

Staring into the grey silence
of a blank refreshed screen
Checking in after every chapter
like a procrastinating teen
Those certain expectations
The how it’s always been
Confined inside your cellular
Just swipe the slate clean

Inside that grey silence
unrealistic standards are the cage
So make the necessary adjustments
Just turn it off.  Just act your age.
Leave the drama for the characters
Leave the scenes for some stage
In the grey of the silence
you can always
turn the page


Convinced that I am ever-evolving,
I look optimistically ahead
Detraction and reaction
Saying the unsaid
As far, and as much, as I can envision
Also, and more so.  Instead of instead
Negotiating the grey
Whenever I am seeing red

Coping within the grey areas
of our everyday race
With road blocks personified
An invasion of personal space
A barrage of harsh mentality
The reality of commonplace
The simplest of solutions
Just choose dignity, and grace

In the grey of the grey areas
doom and gloom are never much fun
Between frustration and explanation
Just be positive. Be the stronger one.
Between excuses and excusing
You know what needs to be done
Even in the greyest of the grey
rose-coloured glasses will let in the sun

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Address

Address

It feels sudden, suddenly, and overwhelming,

when I hear the brakes of the truck
as it backs in, to load up my past,
to transport my life until now.
I feel both jolts of clarity, and of reality, 
going straight to my heart,
having been consumed, for so long,
by the why, as much as the how.

Two decades of possessions, one of mixed emotions,

accumulation, and memories,
sometimes, that seemed so right,
that somehow, slowly, seemed wrong.
Strangers, gathering up all that I have,
packing up all of the years,
carrying them out the door,
and then moving them along.


I think, eventually, or soon, I will find out

that this was a momentous day.
When I finally get to breathe, 
and to slow things down, and to have a look.
I will see a vital and necessary step
on the way back to me.
I will recognize another pivotal and decisive stride
that I bravely undertook.

Soon enough, I will remember all that is so very good.
I will be sitting, and settled, in my new home.
Unconstrained. With the rest of my life before me.
 And those I love will be knocking at my door.
As always, I will graciously welcome them in.
To them, only my address will have changed.
They’ve all been here with me, my entire way.
Each arrives, carrying the same love as before.

Meeting

                                  Meeting 


I arrive with wine, and little apprehension

Entering your home, my worries are very few
Confident that you are kind, that you are genuine
because your wonderful daughter is a part of you


As I look around, a comfort settles over me
Instantly, I am at ease, and even more sure
We say our hellos and she squeezes my hand

Moments later she takes me on a tour

I see warm colours, and family photos
lovingly displayed, up and down the hall
Your own creations, and your creativity,
gracing each room, and on every wall

Crafty signs, stitch work, and oil paintings
Your personal touches, so easily found
Children and teens, newlyweds and grandkids,
all of your loved ones, leaning or hanging around

Tangibly vibrant, with a flick of each switch
The now and the then, brought to light
The young couple, handsome and pretty
Their beginning, framed, in black and white

We stroll through your memories, new and old,
The long journey of a husband and a wife
A visual journal, of his story and yours,
Room to room, so full of a life

As we join everyone in your living room
I look to you, straight across, sitting in a chair
Our glances meet, knowingly, for a moment
neither overly concerned, but both of us aware


Just as I had hoped, with this important step,
I was adding perspective to my happy reality
But it was also tweaking my ongoing interest
with peoples’ grasps on their own mortality


I find myself staring, as we are having dinner

catching myself, just before you do
I am lost, inside my natural curiosity,
wondering about your point of view

I imagine what you might be thinking
Another Easter dinner, like any other year?
Are you blissfully oblivious to who is new,
and simply thankful that everyone is here?

Are you thinking about who is missing,
a little sad, and reminiscent as you look around?
Or are you soaking in the whole atmosphere
Every familiar sight, every happy sound?

Your grandchildren, all talking excitedly
That perfect mix of exuberance and loud
The smiles of three uniquely beautiful daughters
Your constant smile, telling me you are proud

Your living legacy, right here before you
Those most important, just being themselves
A vital portrait of your loving family
brought down from off the shelves

Your smile subsides only when you speak
Voice cracking, behind the few words you say
You seem quietly content, at the head of the table
as I gradually get to know you, on this April day


Everyone slowly heads towards the door,
saying thank-you and exchanging good-byes
I see your expression change, ever so slightly,
a
s a twinge of melancholy forms in your eyes

Landing

Landing
Recent memories fill my head
as we soar back to our lives
Back to before, to our every days,
to an enhanced reality of what that is


Memories, of an ideal illusion,

where it is only us for a while
Longer whiles, with no limits
Waking up to nothing but time
Holding on, for as long as we can

Memories of your eyes inside mine
In sun and in moonlight
In the dim of any morning
Looking to each other for what comes next
Knowing that it could be anything

Memories of many more conversations
Of the way your words flow with mine
Of commonalities, and waves of blue
Sharing the ebb and flow our pasts
Understanding how we got to here

Memories of seven wonderful days,
forever part of our own story
An early chapter in a evolving romance 
Written with ease, from moment to moment,
on unbound sheets of crisp revelation


Your head lifts from my shoulder

as we drift slowly down to earth
With our memories safely on board,
the wheels reach for solid ground

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Greed

Greed
My racing mind tells me,
this is good
This is very good
These vital sensations
This wanting
This need
The smile on my face
My pounding heart
This awakened perspective
This healthy greed

I slip out of bed
wanting more
Head for the shower
wanting more
I get ready for work
I head out the door
I back up my car
wanting more

More of the physical
My blood is churning
More of the cerebral
My mind is freed
The more I get,
the more I want
The more I have,
the more I need

The happy reality

of my healthy greed


 

Worry


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Worry

You worry about us
while I worry about you
My wounds have mostly healed
Yours, are still unfairly new

Still vulnerable, still susceptible,
Still affected by so much
Bruised around the edges
Still tender to the touch
 Memories, there on the wall
Reminders, flashing on the screen
Taking you back to a hurt
that never should have been
Pictures and question marks
Still images, still fresh 
Years of mixed emotions,
rubbing against your flesh
The occasions, the situations
With family, with friends
The sudden jolt to your system
When some of your past attends
Incessant and intrusive probing
Concerned people, hassling you
The pangs from a harsh reality,
that may or may not be true
Occasional reminders,
that prick you like a pin
Sharp and pointed circumstance
Jabbing at your skin

Rumours, and stories that swirl
Of others, going through the same
Open secrets and indiscretions
The deflecting of the blame
Sad and similar symptoms,
that you reluctantly understand 
Taking you an unhealthy distance
from the life that you had planned

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You worry about us
 and I worry about you
 This is what I can see
This is all I can do

There is pain that I recognize
Sore spots, we have both got
Other aches, I can understand
Worse ones, that I cannot
Nights, together in your home
Putting myself in your place
Hours, rapt deep in our conversation
Moments, spent lost in your face
The nuances of your smile
The emotions, found in your eyes
A shimmering well of melancholy
behind a wavering disguise
The sharp, cruel jabs of pain,
that stab your heart like a knife
The tears, that occupy my mind,
as we sit, surrounded by your life
Yet, there is no place I’d rather be
There with you, trying to comprehend
Distracting you and laughing with you
As your partner, as your friend
Taking you to a fun and happy now,
And sitting beside you there
Giving only me, and who I am,
In every minute that we share
Knowing, I have zero urge to sit
where someone else has sat
That I am one hundred percent yours
That I can promise you that
I have my steadfast morals
I have my own unique charms
I have this love for you,
and I have two strong arms

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You worry about us
I worry about you
I promise you my honesty
That is the most I can do

Brusque

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Brusque

Opinions, for the ears of everybody
Words, of a mind for only one
You talk and you talk a good game
When, actually, you have none
A misplaced sense of self-importance
Confident, to the point of delusion
Constantly rubbing people the wrong way
A reality, wrapped inside an illusion

What colour is the sky in your world?
Does the sun only shine when you’re in it?
Is the planet lonely with just the one person?
Does it only turn when you spin it?

An endless list of those you’ve alienated
Astounded, by your condescending tone
An ego, that pierces the thickest of skin
Daggers, from a mind all your own
Common denominator to many problems
Divisor, for those who cross your path
You are 100% certain, and 90% wrong
Little remains, when you do the math

What colour is the sky in your world?
Is it grey and spattered with dots?
Do you ever get to see the sunlight?
Is it overcast, clouded by your thoughts?

You ride in on your high horse
Give the royal wave to all you pass
Those who don’t acknowledge you
Can just kiss your royal ass
You share a seat with your superiority
Oblivious to the ooze that you spill
Sitting smugly beside your judgement
In a sticky puddle of your ill will

What colour is the sky in your world?
Is it showering blood, instead of rain?
Are you sheltered beneath your thin cover?
Or drenched, in the red of your disdain?

It is by no means an overstatement
Your demeanour is your disguise, your demise
Whenever you reveal your true self
It’s like a storm, sweeping the skies
From the nasty depths of self-absorption
Blunt statements, soaked in the odd
Revealed, one assumption at a time
From beneath your shallow façade

What colour is the sky in your world?
Does anyone ever reach you there?
Perhaps someone should tell you?
Would you really even care?

 

Butterfly?

Butterfly?

Epihany

The same stubborn scenario
The same view every night
A silhouette, close to the edge
A moth under the light
The echo of my thoughts
On infinite repeat
A schizophrenic mind field
Of two and a half feet

Turned one hundred and eighty
In a blanketed cocoon
A butterfly to a moth
Under the light of the moon
A stark and palpable silence
An insurmountable rut
Urges, kept at arm’s length
Until my eyes flutter shut

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this storm
From the cold of my creation
The bitter back to the warm
From this tempest in a teapot
 These chilling winds of blame
 The frigid reality each night
The moth back to the flame

An exasperating tug of war
Across a span of diminished hope
There has to be some solace
Near the end of my rope
Nothing that I can do or say
Changes, impervious to gain
The collateral damage is done
A consequence to the pain

So many months, eaten away
The thin fabric of a ruse
Resentful of my own creation
 A moth disguised as a muse
Rose-coloured tunnel vision?
Wishful thinking all along?

For the sanity of lost time
It would help if I was wrong

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this regret
From the pall of uncertainty
That hangs over me yet
From the now back to the then
The difference of day to night
To open arms and an open mind
To a butterfly, in a better light

Precarious

Precarious
Every morning I see him
barely hanging on 
Dangling, precariously
under a lingering moon

Managing to endure
despite his battered shell
A razor piece of skin
holding him up high

Been torturous months
since that horrendous storm
Shattered his foundation
destroying his lofty view

Many extreme days since
of ice and punishing wind
Chipping away his perseverance
diminishing his resolve

I imagine his motivation
the reason for his strength
The last strand of resilience
that holds him there

The harsh and bitter elements
cracking through his will
Leaving him alone, wavering
on the brink of his demise

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I check on him again
battered by days end
Still hanging on, barely
by that same thread of hope

Any quick jab of pride
is quickly superseded
Replaced by the reality
of what lies ahead

Knowing that rest is fleeting
as night brings the unknown
One thin strand of determination
preserving his weary soul

Nights of wavering doubts
of cold and cruel struggle
Exhausting his perseverance
diminishing his resolve

I imagine his thoughts
through this arduous battle
Through the repetitive rigours
of winter’s constant extremes

Recognizing his own inevitability
his slight, precarious being
Perhaps, hoping not to fall
until the warm ground of spring

 

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