You Are

You are, to me, words that don't exist
You are, to me, nothing less
I am, with you, all that I can be
I am, with you, at my best

If I Could

If I could, I would stretch my arms across the ocean and reach out and touch your face
If I could, I would seek out every ache in your heart and find how to take them away
If I could, I would make time skip a thousand days, so you know I'll still be by your side
If I could, I would do all the things that make your heart and soul come alive.

I cannot do any of these things, my dear. Those powers are not within me.
Only time can test us and see where truth lies, and what's meant to be destiny.
Time is a journey we'll travel together, a voyage for two on this sea.
God limits our powers so we may cherish these moments, and to prove what we have's meant to be.

Bones

*originally written as a song, I felt it found a better home as a poem*

How do I do the things I do?
Wish I could learn to think things through.
I get my eyes focused on you.
Then I can’t think straight.

You strip the pride right from my skin.
Inch to the inch ‘til bone gives in.
Then the curiosity within.
Begs you to go deeper.

Hate you when I become this thing.
A monster greedy from the sting.
Love you when I should start to leave.
and work my way in closer.

Burn pages from this book we claim.
And when the ashes start to rain.
Our words will always seize the day.
No one can ever take them

The Warming Steel Heart

Am I only feeling what I want to feel,
or is this feeling real?
What power must a woman hold,
to melt this heart of steel?

The very man I thought I was,
has shed his so-called perfect skin
only to reveal, beneath the steel
that the real man was within.
Am I only feeling what I want to feel?
No I cannot speak it’s case.
Only true love can remove that shell
So it may nest it’s place.

So, come now love and make your home
I gladly welcome thee
I’ll gladly shed this skin of steel
And let the love fold me underneath

Silent and Pensive

I walk, lightly through the rainy streets, carefully stepping around each puddle, allowing rain to fall on me from above. I hold no umbrella in hand. It would almost feel inappropriate to put one to use right now. After all, it’s the nicest thing I’ve felt today. As I walk, I puff gingerly on my clove and enjoy the sounds of Regina Spektor coursing through my ear, into my head, and, through my blood stream. The night is so euphoric. And how strange a feeling it is, to know that you could die this very instant and be perfectly content. It almost makes you want to. But no one is lucky enough to choose the music to which they exit.

I love the way I look in this. So strange… I almost look like an artist. My phone vibrates, but I ignore it. It’s only a text, and besides, this night is not about anyone but me, and my imagination of course. My heart dances in the moment, but my feet do not, because they have spent the day searching for this feeling. All the tension and stress of the days before have finally passed, but my feet are sore.

I sit, but my eyes search for something new, as I watch the people pass by. Hand in hand the elderly ones walk, arm in arm do the young. It seems everyone has someone. I have my cigarette. This love will get me through the night. I’ll remain content.

Then she comes. Alone. Pensive in her thoughts, deliberate in her walk, and with curiosity in her eyes. How interested I become, to see someone who may be sharing in my euphoria. As if we were sharing a moment, together but alone. She counts each step, and in each one of her steps, I read a new thirst for thought. She is bold, but not nearly as hard to read as she’d like. She steps in a rhythm, but she does not dance.

Instead, it is I who dances, if only at heart. I feel so strongly the multitude of possibilities and the things we could share. I pretend she is my future love. The one I will spend the rest of my life with. And then I wonder if she sees me, sitting coyly. And if she does catch a second of me staring, does she even care? Is she too searching for love? Or is it something else she seeks? Something even more profound than love itself?

The rain does not give me the answers I seek. Instead, each drop becomes more deafening than the last and my thoughts become more disorganized. My heart dances again, but my feet continue to remain tranquil. I can barely remain reserved as they tap in the small puddle, but I dare not share my thoughts. I am only a stranger, and someone so stable and reserved does not need me to tilt the balance. Torn, I desire something new to confront the chaos. If only I could run up to her. I would say nothing and do nothing, except extend my invitation for her to dance with me. Then, this rain, this street, and this night, under the watchful eyes gazing down upon us from a celestial home, would welcome us both, unified. Our euphoria would take its next step, becoming something even more.

I watch the rain put out my cigarette and in a way it almost concludes my evening. I watch as she shivers in the night. The cold rain has nearly soaked through her clothes. The umbrella she carries is no competition for the wind she has faced. I have no jacket to offer her, so I only sit, moving on to the next cigarette and watch as you fade from the picture, and the next couple walks begins to approach. I pretend I never saw you, but in reality, I’ve never looked away.

an excerpt from "One Headlight"

here is a small teaser from a book I am working on entitled, "One Headlight." I am always looking for feedback and criticism as this is rough and unedited.

The road ahead was lined with shadows, like decorative tinsel upon a holiday tree. The only light that lit the path ahead protruded dimly from the single working headlight of an outdated and overpriced hand-me-down 94' Geo Metro. It's owner, a young man in his early 20's of average height and a slightly athletic build, was rushing to a destination he was still not convinced even existed. This uncertainty was additionally fueled by the time of day at which he was traveling.

"3am," he thought, "Who ever travels at 3am?"

He looked to the only functioning headlight on his car, the only functioning headlight on a street which, by day, served as the main road of travel in the small city of 32,000 people. As he did, he was reminded once again of the answer to his rhetorical question.

No one.

After daylight, no one would dare to travel this road, which, despite it's proximity to so many prominent local spots, was poorly maintained and was bordered by the White River. The White River, had served served as a death trap to many who chose to travel under these same conditions thanks, in part, to its flimsy, dented and rusty guardrail that served as the only barrier between the road and it's wild waters. An accident this late would mean certain injury, if not death. The young man concentrated, refusing to let his mind wander as he meticulously navigated the many twists and turns that shaped the road. He could not afford to be distracted.

As he rounded the final corner on White Water Road, he made a left turn onto Natalie's street, and allowed his mind to return to pondering on his current situation.

Just twenty minutes ago he had lie prostrate in bed, when he was awoke by the loud and obnoxious ring tone echoing off of his phone which had been intentionally set to be loud and obnoxious for such an occasion. Natalie's voice on the other end had sounded anxious and urgent as she urged Aaron to hurry to see her. She would not say what it was she needed though, as if she were paranoid that someone may have been listening on the other end.

He knew though.

Aaron knew exactly what was going on. Natalie's conditioning was worsening. She was breaking. All the medical books Aaron had been studying had said that her condition was irreversible, but his stubbornness which he had attributed to his mothers side of the family, left him skeptical. He simply would not accept it. He was so confident that he could help her get well on his own, unable to take her to a professional facility due to the nature of her condition.

"I have to accept that I am losing her," he tried to reason with himself, "and it's no one's fault but mine."

As he finally pulled into her driveway, concluding what may have been the longest half hour drive of his life, he new that the easiest part was over and that the hardest part was just beginning. He took one final deep breath and closed his eyes tightly as if, when he opened them he would wake from a terrible dream. He muttered a prayer under his breath and slowly begin to open his eyes. He cursed under his breath, exited the car and began to walk up the narrow blacktop driveway and into the realist nightmare he would ever know.

A World Between Two Suns part Deuce (The Second Sun)

I was a world between two suns
I was an olive between two stones
I am the boy you tried to hold
but in the meanwhile, did not taste

And such deceit begins to burn
as the growing wheels of irony turn
in the midst of this I came to learn
love is too sacred a thing to waste

You taught me things young men don't think
and showed me ships that never sank
in concrete my dreams began to seat
themselves, you were my source

How tragic then did that day become
when I had no choice but to choose that second sun.
and I realized that you were not my 'one'
and it was a thing I could not force

Now both suns had set and did fade away
at heart my muse, you'll always stay
we love each other in another way
hearts intertwined in stone.

And now I see the bright new sun
over the horizon it now does come
and with it rays that feel like love
and the brand new heat of hope

Growing Up

Listen as the wind blows through our metal box in the sky. It speaks of the past & reminds me of ball games with trees. How many did we misplace? "The pine cones have some company," we said, and we lifted the thought away. "Let's play! Let's play!" Other houses danced with us. What a league we were. A league of four we'd say. "I am Omar," I said, "and you can be Jim."

Listen again to the wind blowing, through our floating shell. It whispers, "It is now." Such a bitter truth. There are no trees where I am at, or pine cones for you. Only shirts with ties, and guns, and no one dances. For we are not Omar or Jim. We have our slave names, because that is what responsibility is.

How can I speak of a resolution I do not know? It is simply life's way. One day, we play ball with trees, and then the trees become buildings. And the ball become personal agenda. Then, there is no such thing as the greater good. For there is only greed, and shirts with ties, and guns with bullets. And our names are changed again, to power, lust, hate and vengeance.

This is growing up.

The Sound

Hey, hey.
What's that sound?

Is it the wind walking by my door.
or the ghost of the young lenore.
Is it the raven quoting "nevermore"
or is it just my imagination?

Hey, hey.
What's that sound?

Is it nature speaking mysteries.
Is it my memories getting the best of me.
Is it the world running beneath my feet.
or is it just my imagination.

Hey, hey. What's that sound?
Hey, hey. It comes around.
Hey, hey. It goes around.
Hey, hey. It is my home.

I feed you to the wolves. I litter you with blood.
I tangle you in waste. I wash you down with mud.
I've reaped but never sown. I have nothing to show.
I bury you in stones & yet I call you home

Radiant One

Eyes grow weak upon staring.
heart grows warm upon thought.
hands go numb upon touching.
mouth goes dry to the tongue

My feet do dance at your notice.
my mind does race when we meet.
my nose knows your smell like no other.
my ears most alert when you speak.

When you enter a room people whisper.
and a glow fills the room like a crowd.
and inside my world you are center.
no future, no past, only now.

So touch me, your touch like an angel.
speaking heavenly words in its art.
and I will go on as a mortal.
slowly working my way to your heart.

A World Between Two Suns

I am a world between two suns.
I am pulled. I am thrown,
off of my steady course, into an unknown orbit.
Stars fall into my path.
But none like the two suns.
None as bright or magnificent,
or hot.
I burn when I get too close.
But sulfur never smelled so sweet.
Never has pain been so pleasant or welcome.
I love to burn for them.

But what chaos this does cause!
I cannot commit to one orbit.
So therefor I have no path.
I drift.
This being so, what is my purpose?
The universe is unwell.
Unbalanced and amiss.
Never should a planet serve two suns.
Yet how do I choose?
Equal in beauty. Equal in stability and strength.
Equal, in heart.

But before I can choose, fate makes her move.
And she chooses for me.
I am content, I am pleased.
I know this is where I should be.
Everything in it's right place,
and her rays reach my skin.
Flinching, I am ready to burn.
Burn for you alone.
But I do not burn as I thought I would.
No, instead, I am consumed in a gentle warmth.
I am a world to one sun.
And my course regains it's balance once again.

The Seeker

I seek solace, peace and quiet
in such a loud and busy world
to be alone in the crowded room
to walk busy streets where noone knows me
to escape from demanding family and hand-biting friends
and just live precariously
if only for a day or two

and I seek wisdom, adventure, and knowledge
in such an irresponsible world
to do that which shouldn't be possible
to fly, to swim, to fall
to escape to a place with no limitations
and just live uninhibited
if only for a month or two

I seek to see beauty and magnificence
in such a polluted and diluted world
to see that which human hands cannot create
the land, the air, the sea
to see more of the earths splendor
and just live open-minded
if only for a year or so

I seek, maturity, humility, and understanding
in such a dumbed down world
to see the deeper meaning of death
and the even deeper meaning of life
to know there is something bigger than me
and live beyond myself
if only, for forever

Misery Finds No Company With Me

Don't you dare worry, today with tomorrow's.
We only have, a second to live.
And don't fill you heart, with dread and sorrow.
We only stand a second from death.

Walk out the door.
Welcome the day.
Welcome the Lord.
However you pray.
Leave tears for joy.
Let pain bear no stain.
While guilt is worn down.
So freedom can sing.

Don't you dare worry, the day with your troubles.
We only have a second to live.
And don't fill your mind with guilt and troubles.
We all were born sinners, yet God loves us best.

Don't live your life,
in a shell or encaged.
To your own imperfection,
do not become slave.
Instead take some peace,
in each day we're born.
Embrace life in present,
The past, do not mourn.

Sing hallelujah, for we have imperfections.
And yet we are loved, by the most perfect one.