Laps

Laps

Hearts choose

Egos bruise
Stubborn minds
light the fuse
A battle of wills
that I would win,
and I would lose
I contended
while you pretended
Yet, it was me
who had to choose

Broken flowers
Passionate showers
The uncertainty
filled my hours
Ups and downs
losing their steam,
and their odd powers
I would retreat
from your defeat
Yet, it was me
who still brought flowers

Love and pain
Loss and gain
Writing laps
around the same refrain
Weathered words
between the lines,
between the sun and rain
I could buffer
your claim to suffer
Yet, it was me
who felt the pain

Until the truck pulled up

to load up my life,
once again.

Grey


20181011_085934
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

20181018_141247

Lost

Lost

There are cracks
And there are holes
Those who have lost their way
Those, who have lost their souls

Cracks, lined with uncertainty
Shallow and long and narrow
Split, painfully, like broken bone
With blood and doubt and marrow

Holes, filled with deprivation
Deep and dark and wide
Dug, in haste, like a mass grave
The addicted and the dead inside 

Lost, lonely, alone
Missing in the cracks 
Someone’s family
Someone’s friend

Lost, forgotten, gone

Buried in a hole 

Someone else’s story
Someone else’s end

Grave

Retreat

“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


Retreat

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 —

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

Epiphany

Epihany

Epiphany

I think that they call it
a moment of clarity
And in this man’s life
I know it’s a rarity
When time stands still
suspended and sure
I see what’s before me
it’s perfect and pure.

It could be an epiphany
or it might be a sign
But whatever it is
it’s fragile and fine
Reach out and touch it
unsure that I should
Be careful not to disturb
the gracious and the good.

Brought to this place
by patience and care
A sense of uncertainty
yet completely aware
Savoring this feeling
rapt entirely within
This moment is fleeting
and it’s paper-thin

A delicate balance
  in this enigmatic state
Frozen in time
 yet willing to wait
Knowing that I want
this sensation to endure
Right here before me
so perfect, so pure

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