Pottery

August 2, 2017
I have come into my own
Dredged through
The swamp
Of the lowest
of my lows
And pulled myself up
To stand erect
Looked back in reflection
And from the muck
Sculpted a self
I can admire
I am the potter and clay,
I am the pot
-that which cannot exist
Without
the gaping hole
at center

Strange Love

June 10, 2005

I have not given up
For reasons
I have yet to understand
For circumstances
I am yet to apprehend
Teetered on this tightrope of life
Given the benefit of doubt
Only to see that I have been left out
Lean on no one, no more
Expect from none other than me
Dream my own dreams
Weave my own path
Take a breath
And let it pass

I have said my goodbyes
To a time when I was
Someone
I never wished to be
Someone who remains
Deep inside of me
Times are difficult
I will admit
And I am still
a little strange
But keep up,
And in time you will find
That no one’s life
is quite the same
That despite whether or not
others can
I still have
to love me.

What to Expect

May 29, 2015

It is Friday evening,
Once again she has gotten her hopes up
Far beyond any reasonable expectation

She will hope for a happy greeting,
Not too much, nor too little,
She should have expected
no acknowledgment
Secretly she still does

She will hope to be hugged
With no expectation of reciprocity
She will hope to just feel loved.
She should have expected no contact
With any hug or kiss as immediate prelude
to meaningless groping

She will hope for mutual conversation
Respectful and equal in part,
She should expect to be spoke to, not to speak
Lest, she wish to be corrected on et al, mid-clause

She will hope to sleep soundly,
Next to the one she love,
She should expect loneliness,
She should expect complacency with loveless-ness
She should expect, nothing,
But nothing

She should not have to expect
to keep expecting all of this.

One More

November 2016

For years I slowly shut myself down
I learned to cope
the only way I knew how,
A true scorpion child
my protection from pain
is to sting,
At the cause
At the pain
Until numb,
Paralysis sets in
Seeming cool, callused,
From only my eyes hint at within.
Irreplaceable.
But somehow I replaced.
And convinced myself,
I hurt myself to set you free,
Wherever, whatever,
You needed,
I wanted that for you.

How gifted writers,
Can speak volumes
with silence,
and mute with small talk.
The space between,
afraid, so afraid,
of feelings that remained.

Wondering what just one more
kiss,
One more
talk,
One more
game,
One more
cup,
one more
ride,
one more…