A Change of Plans

‘A Change of Plans’

Theres a storm that rages in my mind
A wind thats whirling all the time
It shakes the shutters with my stutters,
Yet dormant, resides behind
The lies I paint my face to find
A peace, a place to buy some time
To calm the writhing tides insie
That erode the stairs as I try to climb.

But each step I take does nothing,
But exacerbate the suffering in which I swim,
The constant tug of war within – that crashes down
Like waves on a white flag bearing beach –
So I tread the water, but I fear I may sink,
Because every time I stop to think, to catch my
Breath, to simply blink the blank stare of defeat
Away,to try to find the strength to stay, my head
Sinks down below the crest, the water trickles down
Inside my chest, filling the emptiness inside with
A Sinister, sweet defeat.
A Fate I never thought I’d meet –
Let alone, with open arms, greet.

 

4.9.16

‘Falling From Grace’ – Draft 1 (3/1/2013)

So lifeless and small – laying down

On the ground

Something once a part of something

Grand and living –

Now just a twig.

On the ground.

Once a piece of nature’s great tower,

A tower so mighty, yet it never makes a sound.

Unless, of course, it too topples down

And lands with a thunderous pound of sound

As it falls down

On the ground.

But much more likely

The stick or branch that spends

Its days up in its tower

Will only singly fall down

On the ground

And then where does it go?

It doesn’t just lay there

Down

On the ground.

No.

The glory the earth graciously gave

Is as quickly lost as it was found,

Silently sinking, without making a sound

That branch – no, stick – no twig

Disappears

Into the ground.

“The Long Road Back” – First Draft – 2/21/2013

If I told you that I took the long way home today,

Would you care?

I took the long way –

Looped around your favorite spot,

That place tucked between the staircase and that “out-of-place bench that meant so much to you.”

You weren’t there.

Then I walked up to the coffee shop that

You loved so much,

With that smell strong enough to make me sick.

I even bought a cup to remember how much I hated that shit.

Not there either.

Then I walked that “wooded path in your concrete jungle,”

Such a cliché fucking name –

But I walked it.

Alone.