Aching

I wonder at this ache
that seems to carry me
as much as I carry it like a great weight
Aching so much that it takes hours
of staring at a swirling ceiling
before sleep claims me
but never for long
as it hurts too much to dream away the night
Demons are supposed to like the night
but mine follow me at dawn and noon
impervious to distraction or daydreams
When I buried so many ghosts
I thought I’d be free of pain
but that’s not how it seems to work
for they’re not done with me
’til I’m buried

September 16, 2013 0

the game

found myself on queue
awaiting my turn
to my right was a tramp
to my left a pirate
how would we fare
in competition
I can be ruthless and play dirty
or I can be selfless and lend a hand
but something tells me
I need to bring my A game
the Indian sits sagely on the side
the opera diva chomping at the bit
I’ll wait a bit
gauge the skill of my opponents

wait

there’s nobody against me
in front of us are our mirror images
we have to find our own weak spots
exploit them to get ahead
no moving forward
without sacrificing something
our pride, our cynicism
would be the first to go
but we’re not all that smart
the strategy is not clear
just keep moving is key
don’t over-think
use instincts we’ve so long suppressed
play the game

September 15, 2013 0

Unfettered

the canvas is too large
I am used to dealing in miniatures
how am I supposed to fill up the space
when my wit has always had narrow bounds
do I dare leave much white space
room for the eye to breathe
or is that as dangerous
as filling their heads with tripe and travesty
I’m torn
between being honest or being liked
the confines have been chaffing me
and I long to break out
the mold that used to fit so well
is squeezing me dry
my comfort is choking me
may I unfetter my thoughts
let them roam freely
what if they get picked up
and carried by the winds
will others step up
to take their place
will I always have this struggle with myself
the trees and the forest and the cliches therein
will there be at least one person who will hear
and care and understand
maybe that doesn’t matter
when it’s me I have to please

September 15, 2013 0

Ol’ Blues Man

He spoke to me only through the music we shared
The pain was evident in his eyes
The weariness was etched with every line on his face
His fingers strummed and sifted through my memories

I couldn’t let him down
We couldn’t let the stony silence win
So I started to sing
I felt my voice take over the room even softly they could feel it in the back
While he opened his eyes for the first time and saw me and we moved together through the blues
We traveled through some craggy slopes
All that need to be said was sung
And the guitar wailed on

Between verses were only muffled curses
But there was joy in the harmony
There was harmony in the words
The words that only came in a song
And the song was all we shared.