There are times
You want your friends to call
But they never do
There are times
You want to be rescued
From your own self pity
There are times
You just want it all to end
And sit afraid that it will
There are times
You wonder if
And don't know what it means
There are times
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
The world ends tomorrow
And I don't know what to do
A decade of decompressing
Left me unprepared
Strength and sinew
Wasted and gone
The faith of a sinner
Is more than I possess
Hope has long since slipped
Into the world of fantasy
Yes, the world ends tomorrow
And I find I don't know what to do
So I will do
The one thing in which
I have proficiency
Doing nothing
I will sit in my beach chair
And watch the end roll in
With the waves
Sunday, November 11, 2012
It was a bit much
A supercilious nod
To the paean
Of my heart
She knew what I meant
But ignored it
All the same
That single look
And curt nod
Said more
Than the tomes
She worshipped
And me
A nothing in her eyes
A challenge
To her world view
But her best effort
Could not touch
The joy
Hidden in my heart
And I just smiled
In return
A smile of pity
And regret
A forlorn expression
She would not
Deign to recognize
Today
I woke before the dawn
Thinking
And remembering all I'd done
All I'd thought and dreamt
All distilled into a single moment
A realization
Of who I am
Who I was
And what I mean
I sat alone at the cafe
Watching
Feeling the metaphors
Floating and swirling
Down the street
And around the Sunday Walkers
I went to bed early
Listening
To the soft evening rain
The distillations
And metaphors
Playing at being intimate
And suggesting conclusions
Conclusions
Like an empty glass of wine
A half eaten sandwich
And a locked emergency exit
Conclusions without evidence
It's all that's left
At the end of the day
A sky without meaning
An ocean of possibilties
Out of reach
A man with nowhere left to go
The future is a burden
When its the same as today
No time left to argue
Let me sleep
Then repeat the day
Like a histrionic schoolgirl
I want to scream puerile angst
Like a borderline Mrs.
I must love/hate to hate/love you
Like a sociopathic bartender
I dream of ending your misery
Like a hopeless romantic
I cant give up my faith in you
Like a jealous lover
I follow your every move
Like a man without imagination
I stay right where I am