witness

Singled out and silent.
There is something in the silhouette of you.
From alternate angles and forced perspectives
We come to you.
No true intended consequences.
The outcome of design never rests,
With squinted eyes.
These cheeks, red with tension.

Happiness is understood.
But the laughter is off-putting
How hard must one try?

For the better jokes.
How far must a person be driven?
Is the constant punishment to blame?
Or are a person's choices their own
Responsibility and punishment.
Who then can a lover find responsible
Within this timeline.

unspoken

These unpronounced words,
falling feet first,
Nothing but hands in the darkness.
Lips pursed and cracking
Mind miles ahead
this thinking is carless
Unbridled and unspoken

Living a Lie

My head is lying in the lake,
Where hands and feet will drag and scrape.
I tell my friends it's not too late,
We're living in a lie.

Mourning cries, my soul to rake,
While shrieking mouths are left agape.
How forceful falls the blow of hate?
I'm living in a lie.

When bones and bread refuse to wake,
When knives find rest below the nape,
No vice is herein left to sate.
You're living in a lie.

The bold conviction seems a fake.
What shadowy and faulty shape?
Weakness is a loud man's trait.
You're living in a lie.

A hopelessness I cannot shake.
Despite my speed I can't escape.
My fate, with baited breath await.
I'm living in a lie.

Lest we forget what's here at stake,
The tarnished past as clothes we drape.
With bended knees by buckling weight,
We're living in a lie.

Where the heart is

There is no ideal environment
Where at I have evolved to fit
No climate I find comfort in
I am without a home

I cary the absence of a place
I heard of things occurring
in the heart of wild people
But I will find no resting stones

Goodnight

The first few waves are unrelenting:
Shaking from head to toe.
Whole body screaming out.
Up and away,
From feet to ether.
Over time the cries subside.
It is a move of exponential surrender
Standing,
Sitting,
Lying prone.
Nothing but a gentle release of breath at the end.
All fighting done.

stormy

The weather continues changing overhead.
Occasional drops of stolen precipitation find their way down to us.
A solemn moisture lingers on the wind.
From a distant place I'll never find,
Nor even look for,
A warmth is swiftly growing.
Perhaps the sender is unaware of whom this will befall.
But thunder crashes without care.

Old new things

These streets are familiar
New faces inhabit old haunts
The buildings can't change
Am I remembered by these bricks?

film

What great distance this light has covered.
These synthetic sinews it has traversed.
To depart such serene and subtle climbs.
To finally reside inside these unblinking eyes.
No regard given to the impossibilities between.
All so man can see woman faraway.

Truth

I have been taught to take things as they come.
"What more could you expect in life?"
Embrace the good with the bad.
Even when "the good" is far between
Few.
If ever seen.
Each turn is a stumble into dark from dim
And at this point of age
My patience is wearing thin.
So many years of empty promises
So many smiles to hide the tears in knowing eyes.
Is there no end?
Save the final reprise.
When, without warning, the struggle is completed.
Is that the silver lining you promised us?
Is that the consolation prize?
Despite the pain and strife we can take solace in the knowledge
That nothing matters and everyone dies.

Deviled Eggs

I have very little faith in your legs.

Valuable time is unspent,

More or less.

Thanks to the nightmares I often don't rest.

The question that's best.

An alteration on the regs.

"I'm Old Gregg!"

"I'll do it right away."

That's what you said.

You claim that I am mean.

But I don't waste words lest they go right to the head.

Just skip this one.

How young is too young?
"If there is grass on the field, then play"
Is that what you used to say?
You may have cracked the screen.
But the videos live on to see another day.

Thoughtless

There are so many unspoken things.
Rows of unspoken words
Like well trained reserves in a time of peace.
But this is not some happy place.
A perpetual utopia.
No,
This is a mutual political standoff.

Sorry Excuse

Quick with an apology,
For the simplest of things.
Trivial.

But showing no remorse,
For large missteps.
Not even acknowledging ,
The harm you've done.

Son

You have a blurry future,
Thanks to me.
Thanks to her.
Sometimes it seems like we care.
Sometimes we seem to forget.
The repercussions of our missteps.