Author's note: these are a series of poems written between 2003-2005.
I will be releasing several different batches of poems, any comments are welcome.
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Remember---2-1-2005
Dealing with today before tomorrow
takes more mental energy than I remember
The coals of the past and the ready fuel for the fire used to keep me warm.
“Living” here couldn’t be bothered with
it never crossed my mind.
Now that she’s gone, now that the fires have turned to white ash,
the present seems tiresome.
A wise old gunslinger named Clancy once said:
“Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. It comes to us at midnight
very clean. Its perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It
only hopes we’ve learned something from yesterday.”
To learn from ten minutes ago, you have to be here.
But now that I am,
this freedom is awkward
and painful.
It tares at me, robbing my brain of sleep.
The wound is most painful when fresh. But,
for now I have to walkaway.
The sickly, sweet smell of cigarettes and beer
takes its time to wash from my hands.
The water races and trickles down, slowly crossing the metal drain.
The face in the mirror is more haggard and scarred that I remember.
Brown eyes just stare into the darkness of themselves
wishing for blue ones to see behind me.
But they won’t come,
they won’t come now or maybe again.
2 tears leave a salt trail down my cheeks, but my hands don’t feel clean yet.
The face tenses and wrinkles with a small sob.
Stop. Now. let it pass. Stop carrying this. Stop holding on .
Let go. Just let go…
I close the faucet with a small squeak,
stopping the warm flow.
The face though won’t stop starring,
I linger for a moment, staying enveloped by the darkness my eyes.
My blue-eyed angel won’t come now or ever again.
Her eyes have grown too cold.
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The Remembrance of a Night-- 4-12-2002
I drive along
Remembering
Laughter, smoke, pain
The memories of last night
keep me going
My mind was far last night
We sat in the theater
Listening to the past speak words of hope
My soul was with my mind
drifting toward the sky
The pain from the burns on my hand
Kept me there
like the nails
in Christ’s hands
my soul was stapled to the earth
Tonight I look back
to the wonder of it all
The yellow tracks lead me home
I follow
I feel content
I am alone
yet loneliness doesn’t touch me
the memories keep me warm
they are the embers of a once great fire
and stay with me on the short journey
how funny this life can be
one day you feel the bottom growing closer
the next you are through the ceiling
I drive along
Reflecting on the nights past
remembering
laughter
smoke
beauty
hope
It has been good
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The liar’s Addiction----10-20-2003
being good at deception can become a hazard.
common spoken words
roll out fast
only for you to realize
all you have said is a lie.
half truths are worse
for the other half is always discovered later.
remembering, is always a task best left to those
who don’t waste dopamine so often.
the real danger
is not in deceiving others
but ending up deceiving
yourself
your mind will believe eventually
but it already knows on its own, what it needs to forget
for deception to become truth
justification is gratification
the blurred, slippery line of reality and falsity
is ever changeable in the mind of those who wield its wrath on others
the trick to becoming good at deception
is not fooling others
but changing in your own head, what was true
sometimes
I need to remind myself
what really happened
not what I said
not what my mind believes
only what my heart knows, yet there are times now
where fact and fiction have become so faded, my memories are lost in the facsimile
living in lies is an easy path at the beginning, but an impossible cycle at the end
a never ending addiction of images, creating only fantasy, destroying only reality
the crunch of frozen potential, kinetic destructive force lays dormant but it
tracks my movements as slowly as I want
yet the moon’s failure
to halo above,
the pointed, jagged canopy conceals
my path, my truths,
deceiving for a time all but the darkness
until the gray morning is burned off
for then my truths will lie, raising questions, revealing themselves for the world’s eyes
defining the line of reality, opening up opportunities to blur it again
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