I see you …quiet
like a soldier hiding from war crimes
long after the battle has gone away.
You always stand at a distance
You’re always at an arm’s length from the world,
looking from the outside in
and lonesome in a crowd of millions
just prose: four things I know
There are certain things I know as fact. And I guess I’ve always known them, but sometimes emotions get in the way and I lose my focus.
In order to keep my sanity, I needed to learn not to give it away —
I need to remember the obvious, which in some cases, is not always so obvious.
That’s why I write things down…
First:
My redemption has nothing to do with your response.
The fact that I rebuild may be the result of someone, or something else, but in the end…
It is on me.
The way I eat, think, and breathe is not and should not be hinged upon anyone else
…and neither should my redemption.
I am my own separate entity in this world, and while I connect with other people, I will remain disconnected if I forget that I am the square root to my own equation.
chapter: just to write
At 20 years-old and one year after my re-entry into the world, I was told to, “Straighten up and fly right.”
I was told, “You have to get honest, kid. You have to prepare yourself for the working world and corporate America.”
My first few jobs were plain and unremarkable. I held two sales positions in Continue reading
written for her
I apply this dream to the mid-stream fantasies
that come during my battles with insomnia.
The moonlight filters through the eastside, upstairs window,
lighting the bedroom to the color a soft form of electric blue.
I lay awake Continue reading
what real men do
The other day an old man told me, “Kid, I never give in to the rah-rah of St. Patrick’s day.”
Said, “It’s amateur night,” and then he went on to explain, “Real drunks don’t need a holiday to drink, fight, and destroy their lives.”
Said, “We do that on a daily basis.”
Said, “March 17th doesn’t mean anything to me.”
When I mentioned about him being Irish, he laughed.
Told me, “I’m Irish everyday….I don’t need to put on a green shirt to remind me of that!”
He said, Continue reading
poem
This is to him:
When you see her, you will know.
You’ll know because when you look,
her eyes and smile will wipe away the darkness
When you breathe in and out at the same time
When you compliment one another without words
When there is nothing lonesome
or separated
and the Continue reading
about the lost kids…
They were young, rebellious, and eager to taste the electric side of life. They were anxious to dive into the colorful, ultra-violet lights, and laugh their way into the psychedelic hours of an early following morning. It was just before evening and the sunset changed the summer sky into different shades of orange and purple.
The green grass behind the playground of the elementary school was Continue reading
when you get older
It was not by choice, but I went to Hebrew School when I was a kid. I went to Saturday school too, but most of my friends went to Sunday school and Communion classes. I don’t remember much—other than I never did well, and I never did any of the homework assignments—I just remember not wanting to be there and thinking about my friends that were somewhere else, doing something different, and probably having a better time than me.
As it was, I had to sit through regular Continue reading
about a key
There is a key on one of the active key rings to my household and the door it opens is no longer there.
But once, it opened the door to a small house in the middle of a quiet street on a wide block. On early summer mornings, the sprinklers in the neighboring lawns would awaken and chatter across the green grass.
The suburban streets were lined with trees and the all of the homes were neatly kept with unique landscaping.
This is where I lived for several years.
I learned there. I grew and I evolved.
I landed my first real job while living in that house. I bought my first Continue reading
surrender
I see you like a leaf in autumn. You are beautiful; however, you are reluctant to change color and give in to the wind.
You hold on tight, gripping to the same branches you’ve clung to for so long. You believe this is the only place you can exist, so you refuse let yourself spin into the morning air.
You refuse to let go; you refuse to Continue reading
