1)

And you start to wonder who isn’t who
and who isn’t real
and then you start to ask yourself
and you think even more . . .
then you rethink about who told you
they “were there” of how they were on your side
and next, you realize who it was
and how they were never who they said they were.

It was advised to me that I be aware of my company.
I was also advised to be mindful of who I listen to.
Else, I might listen to a fool
or that I might be so foolish to listen to the advice
from someone who I’d never turn to.

I was told that my story belongs to me
and that by sharing my story,
I am offering myself to those outside of my control
because of course, intention and interpretation
are seldom the same things.

The breeze is soft at the moment
and the previous rain made it easy
for the sunrise to take place
without the usual humidity
which has been with us
for the last few days.

The heat is more like an analogy
or at least to me,
I use the heat as a symbol or more
I use this as a metaphor that represents
the tension between us,
thick, like a blanket
when the humidity is too much
and intense enough to be cut with a knife
and sliced like the fat from a calf
at the slaughterhouse.

It is amazing to me
how we seem to eclipse through time,
half in shadows and half in the sunlight
of something much bigger than our everyday life.

There is more to this,
you know?

There is more to us than meets the eye
just like a magic trick because
like the great magician says
sometimes, the hand is quicker than the eye
and so, oftentimes
life is quicker than all of us.

Yet we forget to remember tomorrow
or the fact that our plethora of time together
is limited to a precious few

The rain came last night —
I could hear the raindrops crashing
on the awnings above my windows
in my living room

Then, just like that
the power went out

Nice . . .

I know you are out there.
you  . . .
I always knew this too
but yes, I admit it
my faith was questioned
and my doubts were mounting

I am here with you now
Then again, where else would I be?
Where else would I be, unless the Gods
had other plans
and yet, same as the driftwood and the shells washed ashore;
everything we see
and everything we feel was predetermined by fate
so that destiny could solidify our place
beside one another.

There had to be another chapter, I think.
And, so, I decided to pick this up from here
and make do with some poetry
and make do what I have
instead of thinking about the things that I don’t have,
or that I’ve lost. 

I never wanted to leave, per se,
but I left just the same
because this is how the cards came out
And so, I folded my hand.
and lost my bet
which is one of my pet peeves.

Losing
without playing . . .