File

File

Two steps forward, and one and a half back
This weary ascent, up my mental list
The more skewed the priorities, the more I lack
Still a half step behind what I can’t resist

I am preoccupied, with so many loose ends
What little time, spent reeling them in
With eyes wide, to avoid common friends
Leery, that your patience is wearing thin

It’s my quiet burden, this selective secret
Lines of inconvenience, thickening a folder
Life evolves, while I struggle to keep it
As the new, and good, look over my shoulder

All the transitional turmoil, single spaced
A ledger of my worries, my personal file
A test of your resolve, stacked with my haste
Noted, then placed, at the bottom of the pile

We will rise, when I am free, from all of this
When I can share myself,  fully, with you
This promise, an asterisk, and a kiss
For now, these, are the best I can do

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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is quickly superseded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

 

Turn

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TURN

I stop where the highway ends
Pausing at the bottom of the hill
At the intersection of here and now
where time seems to stand still
Just enough time for me to smile
Time enough to look both ways
The right time at the right place
A right turn to the best of days

A right and then a quick left
To where my awakened mind sees
Down one last secluded road
under a canopy of trees
A canopy of yellow, white and green
Scattered sunlight streaking through
A canopy that guides me along
To the home that I made with you

A home full of ease and inspiration
Where my contented heart will stay
That rejuvenates my weary soul
at the end of another long day
At the end of the gravel lane
On the west end of the lake
One last left up the driveway
Is the best turn that I make

A definite turn for the better
At the end of our long year
The best turn for our life together
is the turn that led us here
To the edge of nature’s bounty
With a love for life as our connection
The right time, and the right place
A turn in the right direction

INITIATIVE

                 

                 Initiativeone way

I sit alone in my wondering
and it clouds my mind

Nurture may not be your nature,
but there is something I should say.
Affection leads to affected,
when it only goes one way.

You put your gloved hand on
top of my knee
Reminding me of just how rare
that seems to be
Unknowing likely, perhaps
but noticeable to me

Alone behind a curtain of
sheer connotation
The way we should feel, belies
this sensation
Therein lies the rub, of our
unique situation

It distracts me from my ease,
as such
A simple gesture found within
a simple touch
And I don’t believe that it is really
asking
too much

I hold all of the initiative
and it bruises my heart

Nurture may not be your nature,
but there is something I should say.
Lonely leads to lonesome,
when it only goes one way.

A man should never talk about
such trivial things
The importance of touch, and all
that it brings
Or the way that the lack of it
sometimes stings

There are those who feel the same, I
would guess
It may seem absurd to others, who
need far less
But contact comforts me thoroughly, I
must confess

It does distract me from my ease,
as such
Our house is only so big, yet are insticts
seldom touch
And constantly reaching out to you, feels
like too muchimagesM5E0G21W

I grow weary of the initiative
and find myself hesitating

Nurture may not be your nature,
but there is something I should say.
Distant leads to distance,
when it only goes one way.

Companionship keeps me close, when
push comes to shove
I don’t doubt your sincerity or question

your love
And I do realize that it is your hand
inside that glove

I wish it didn’t matter to me,
but it just does.

I am preoccupied with the initiative.
Is it is just me?

 

Weary

      Weary

 My left arm straight out
I wake up locked in place
right arm pinned under me
exasperation on my face.
Eyes-only glance to my left
3:17 on the clock
despite the untimely hour
I need to get up and walk.
A struggle to just get started
so familiar and frustrating
slowly turn onto my back
where another knot is waiting.
The motion too abrupt
I hear her wearily say
“is it still bothering you?
  I hope you are okay?”

The pain is now both of ours
awake in the dead of night
nothing seems to change
 will I ever feel alright?


Do I sit up or do I roll?

either way is a chore
which move tonight?
the best way to the floor?
Eventually I am standing
legs weary under the weight
I finally feel my body
it doesn’t feel great.
Sluggish, sore and irritated
I consume a gasp of air
regain some composure
as much as I can bear.
Knowing she’d like some water
I’m too spent to think
“I am getting some pills
can I get you a drink?”

The cat greets me with a look
as I flick on the kitchen light
as if to say “not again…
 will you ever be alright?”


Taking stock of my aches

I try to shake them out
wrist a pulsing whimper
shoulders a throbbing shout.
Stillness seems wiser
let my thoughts unwind
“concentrate elsewhere
relax and avert your mind.”
Leaning against the counter
I stare blankly at the floor
choke down two tablets
then swallow one more.
I need to get back to bed
the morning will be rough
the microwave says 3:39
  my body says “enough.”

Same tired routine
night after night after night
nothing seems to change
 will I ever feel alright?


Back to my drowsing beauty
dozing none too deep
her eyes loosely closed

hovering near sleep.
  “Are you feeling okay?”
raises her head, as I lie
“just the usual” I say
and we both know why.
Her hand touches my arm
“try to get some rest”
her calm voice soothing
puts her head on my chest.
For a moment I forget
the pain politely subsides
peace eventually arrives
and she’s the reason why.

Despite the same worries
and another rocky night
despite the constant pain
she makes me feel alright.

Toll

East gate here we go again[1]                                 Toll

Underemployed and underwhelmed
making a buck the hard way
at the expense of my integrity
another dollar, another day

Paying a steep price to just get by
aching body and weary soul
mortgaging my self-respect
while it takes its daily toll

East Gate
here we go again
thinking about getting out
as I walk in

Uneasy and unfulfilled
valuable time is wasting away
small return on substantial investment
just another dollar, just another day

No real long-term interest
keeping pace with the cost of living
repeatedly taxing my every nerve
all taking and no giving

East Gate
here we go again
already exhausted
as I walk in

Unrewarding and unrelenting
a payroll number with no say
no incentive to add value
same old dollar, same old day

Waging my own personal battle
time is money, tick toc
physically and mentally spent
literally wanting to punch the clock

East Gate
here we go again
thinking about leaving
as I walk in

Uncertain but undeterred
there has to be a better way
without this risk there is no reward
one more dollar, one more day

It’s time to save for my future
to find myself, before I get lost
this life has so much more to offer
getting out… is worth the cost

East Gate…
never again.

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