Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts

Poetic License

With years now grown in number
My thoughts are prone to wander
Among all the harder moments
Where my life has come to rest

To view them with a softer sight
To weigh them with a wider mind
To wrap them in a warmer heart

And finally to forgive myself
For doing what I thought was best

All for One
Don’t worry that the Narcissist
Will try to steal your heart.
They’ve never known a need for one,
Beyond seductive art.

Your soul’s the prize they aim to take,
Sucked whole through a hollow kiss.
Then on they’ll prowl more tender prey
To trap in phantom bliss.

Just Because
The self-centered sot
Is angry a lot
That’s how they get their way.

So try as you might
To side-step a fight,
It will happen whatever you say.

As a child
I could not understand
How you’d be so kind
To dogs and cats
And cry so fast for friends
Yet ignore the wife and children
Who were drowning in your drink

Perfect is not planned.
It is a happy accident
That has more chance
Of falling into place
When anything is possible.

Fairy Tale
In love with the illusion
Of a glance that speaks
A lifetime of mutual devotion,
We each become an echo
Of the story
The other wants to hear.

Mixed Emotion
Into a grog of frosty denial
Add a generous pour of guilt
And one full measure of unreasonable fear.
Stir with endless anxiety,
Then chug.

Hook me hard
Make me Squirm
And jump
And lose the battle
To break the line.

Inside I’ll know
It wasn’t love
That reeled me in.

I took the bait
Because I lacked
The courage
To swim upstream alone.

Who’s Counting?
How many false starts
Before you’re off and running?

How many all-nighters
Before you finally see the dawn?

How many times do you dance around
Before you come full circle?

The Edge
The Magic that happens
When moving to the song in your soul,
Can easily exceed
The fragile assurance
That looks like taking control.

A Past Tense Present
Picking up the pieces
Fitting them in place
A picture once a puzzle
Forms in silent grace.

If I knew then
what I know now...
But better late than never.

I didn’t see
That sight inside
That came from
My own mother.

It took my heart
And not my head
To ken the whole
Of what she said.

And one day, son
you too may know
A heart that sees
What thoughts don't show.

Cancelling the Call
The phone call left me exhausted
Worn down and confused.
Wanting so much to trust,
Ignoring a flickering doubt,

I was slammed by the heat
Of your vented frustration.
Money, more money,
Demanded as a threat
To our infant chance at understanding.

Again the endless craving
Defends a fear
Too sharp to soften
With anything but love.

To the Child 
I love you
At depths
I cannot describe
But would not
Have known
Without the pain.

My Father’s Eyes
I look into men’s eyes
And hope to catch a glimpse of yours.
Hope to have another chance
At knowing who you were
Without the whiskey.

A Sign
I glance out the window
Wanting a sign
That everything will be ok.
But there is no window
With a more relevant view
Than the one that opens
On my own heart.

Learning to Fight 
I found my power in the written word
In stories told as they were lived
In simple language that did the work
Of remembering to listen beyond a lifetime.

Food for Thought 
Fear pours my brain into a blender
Then presses the puree button.
It kneads my gut with hot peppers
Then stuffs it up my throat.
It coats my heart with a heavy batter
Then drops it deep into a fryer.
Fear makes a feast of my innermost ingredients.

A Friend in Need 
Some people
Use other people up.
It’s a lesson I learned
When I had nothing left to give
Then realized where it went.

Note to a Not-So-Loved One 
I wish all your selves
Would get together
And decide on
A final version of my faults.

If Only
I laid by the fire and cried
For what could have been but never was
And told myself it didn’t matter.

I see you sitting on the hardwood floor
Naked and cross-legged in the Mission sun,
Lifting your head to show a smile
Saying it was the best, the most connected sex
You’d ever had.

I wanted you with me, around me and in me
And I wanted you to stay
So I waited out your other vows
Til you were called to leave this life
Before our love had found its way.

Let's Get Real
Be Authentic!
Get the Treatment
The Surgery
The Extraction
The Implant

And, of course,
The Brand

The Mark that Matters
The Silent Scream
That Says I'm Totally Sold
On Being
Completely Real

To Be Somebody
I coulda been somebody
Brando said
A line that told the secret shame
Of every soul he represented.

To be somebody
Not forgotten
To be seen above the common
Who die alive without a trace

Of Immortal Grand Illusion

City Blights
In the City in the Eighties
A Bechtel Thelen-Marrin Man
Took his Vodka lunch at Tadich
Paid in Full with Client Scam
Till a Stumbled Luncheon Mishap
Turned him Sober Penitent
Praying Nightly for a Repeat
Via Pristine Liver Plant.