a voice...

i'm kind of starting to think asbout losing fatith here
but i'll put it off for a little while

*******************

A voice
Coming out of the black
Knowing eyes
And finally
An answer.
Not the one expected
But an answer
Nonetheless
And its enough

**********************

you were my teacher...

*****************************

You were my teacher
I have not seen you for a long while
Suddenly you look old
And I have begun to doubt the truths
Are they any less timeless because you have succumbed to the grand design
Or can I pass them on
And become part of a beautiful infinity

*******************************

these are the questions...

These are the questions
In anger
And out
And in spite
And if this is a gift
And I believe it is
Then what can we say
When the light comes up again
And these are true words
And what I feel inside
And if this doesn’t do it
Make you happy
Is torn a thing
To hold
To have
Less expensive
Than some others
When new ?

how are you nowhere...

good morning
raining and cold round here...

************************************

How are you nowhere
This is not what we agreed upon
Not what we planned on
Then
And now
Whispering
Passing
No more

*************************************

the liquid angel

The liquid angel
Cold glass
Warm liquid
Coursing through my veins
She envelops me
Carries me to the place I know so well
Cradling me in her comforting arms
Her warm embrace
Her tears
Like fire
My hell
Warming me

i have too many memories...

another one thats been around for a while
dusted it off
and here it is.


******************************

I have too many memories
So life hasn’t just begun
And I don’t have much hope
And dreams don’t beckon as they once did
So my prime must have passed
this then must be the end
And as such some things need to be said
There are pictures on the wall
Dried flowers in a vase
And books lying around everywhere
In all honesty,
I must say
That this is exactly how I thought it might look
I did not, however, anticipate it being so soon
No matter
The pages are torn and taped
The edges are frayed
Validation has much less worth to me in this sunset
I have come to learn
No, to understand
That love means acceptance
Not necessarily understanding
Although this is a pleasant effect
And I have more accepting
Less excepting
Less anticipation
And more presence
Perhaps less than a ripple in the sense of a collective
But at this juncture a rite of passage

******************************************

what was it again...

this one is a heavy one for me. its been around for a little while...

***************************

what was it again
that I was really agreeing to
please
don’t be concerned
I have no intentions of reneging
I only want to see
More clearly
The borders
Of my existence

***************************

perhaps he was the last...

Perhaps he was the last
Perhaps that is the answer to the question you once asked me
Is it heartbreaking ?
Yes.
Stunning ?
No.
And now you want me to help you understand
But I don't anymore
This is not of my own making
And time seems to be too short
To wonder
There is always something in there somewhere
And you helped me to find it
So this then is a thanks
No you aren't fooling yourself
And though I wish it now
You aren't losing yourself
And where do you want to go
With things being the way they seem
There is no space left for two
Only one
And that one is me
It was before you
and it has been since
I don't want to go anywhere
I want to stay with me
Keep an eye on me
In case I try to run away

and when i find you....

and when i find you
will i find you?
the words dont matter
any more
they sound the same
and embarrass me
because
they mean something
so different
than the last time
i said these
same words
again

explaining kinnian

miss kinnian was the teacher in flowers for algernon. ok. maybe its just me. but i found her to be one of the the most heartbreaking characters ever. come to think of it, i'm pretty sure its just me. i thought i would one day write a book of poetry and call it "the kinnian effect" or something like that. as the years roll by, i have become a little less sure that i will ever write such a book. its not over till the fat lady sings i guess...
but there you have it. the name explained. i'm not nearly so mysterious...
and for the record, i loved that book. flowers for algernon. loved it. loved it. loved it.

it doesnt have to be...

some of my stuff is really short
like 5 or 6 lines
and though i love them, i feel like they're too short to have their own post.
i'm gonna put one up anyway and see how it goes.

********************


It doesn’t have to be me
But it has to be someone
It doesn’t have to be here
but it has to be somewhere
It doesn’t have to be now
But it does have to be

in the beginning....

so this is it.
i need to do this. so i dont keep thinking about what might've been
i'm just gonna start and see where it goes.
hopefully i wont hear much in the way of crickets chirping...

this is not anything i've written recently
i just want to get this started already
a little impatient. i know.

without further ado, my first offerning....


**************************************
i remember
the way you looked in the morning
after a night
and now it will end
i am changing roles
tonight is the changing of the guard
i am done my shift
too early
but done nevertheless
its not working for me
these supposed reasons
excuses
for you
it is
for me
it is rather confusing
looking through a clear window
the separation not apparent
until i reach out to touch you
and feel cold glass
where once there was a warm embrace
little noises scare me
toward the end i was alone with you
i am alone
now
without you
given the choice
i would choose alone with you
because this alone
is no place to be
without you

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