Puzzle

There are so many pieces, I can't tell what the end will look like
I start with the sides and build the framework that will house the story
Frustration mounts at times when I cannot seem to find the right pieces to fill in the gaps
Elation abounds when I do
Slowly as I fit more and more together I start to see the where the puzzle is going
I catch a glimpse of the whole
There is still so much more work to create the picture that all will see, and even then who knows
For the first time however, I am encouraged by the blankness that lies ahead and I am excited to see where the story takes me.

Here

Inspired by a burning idea,
& in seconds grasping at the embers of a once bright flame.
Meaningfully insignificant.

Knots tighten,
too much sleep has replaced too little.
Can't seem to win, another lecture on the horizon.
Thoughts, pictures, words racing desiring to find their place,
but there is no place?

Confounded.

"In the grand scheme of things"
What about the not so grand schemes?
So many steps too take, that the first lies in a mass of obscuria.
So long having floated, too light to reach the bottom and walk.
Viability ahead:

I never really wanted what peaks through a shadowy forecast,
and even then its like swimming against torrents too strong to make a real pace.
Owing, everyone?

I'm just tired of the cycle that I seem to perpetuate upon myself.

Blue Ribbon

The girl with the blue ribbon in her hair.
The big brown eyes and the pretty smile,
how she turns her face for pictures.

When pessimism overruns, she helps to
find the ground
All that was twisted inside, she made to unravel
When low their is high, and the same

She turns the day upside down
and draws a picture
Her words pierce and carry,
flooded with caring and desire

Creative and then some, being around her
causes warmth and hope

She sees the positives, and helps you to see
Surprises around every corner, always excited where's next

She reminds me of a flower, bringing its beauty to the day.

Call girl...or guy

You call when you need, than you don't call again
I'm supposed to be there...
to listen, to tell, to inspire, to be
I'm gone again after that, until you need again.

You can't do it without me, and it makes you mad.
As if it's my fault
You talk, and you wiggle, you don't listen
and then I'm blamed for the wrong choice.
I am a simile, its like James' fault.

It's the same old story, new and used, with a different flavor.

I bend under the weight of my own pressure
I collapse under the weight of yours
I'm tired, worn out, and for the moment,
don't want to hear it.

round

Without you here, there is less to say.
Everything just seems to have lost a little bit of luster.
I sit, and I stare at the screen,
reminiscent of times past.
More smoke cascading in my lungs.
It helps.

I didn't realize how much I need you.
To listen, to talk, to believe.
I read my old posts, and I can't recall those feelings,
They have been buried, and I stand atop 'em.
Your smile changed my day, your favorite place -
was always my favorite place too.

4 months rolls off so insignificantly, but its not.
A stretch, not too much, past the point. I hope.
I have lost my luster, and my desire has taken a hit too.
Medicinal answers are in my future, and my past...they blur into the present.
Can't kick some things: replace the pills with her, replace her with smoke and liquor, replace the proof with you, replace everything with the pills. And around.

The best part of the day, I see you on my screen later.

Gloves

My dad bought me one.
My brother gave me the other.
I cherished these two.
Not for ascetic beauty,
or that they were intricate to my life.
But because they meant a lot to me.
Time elapsed around the simple act.
My dad teaching me, my brother helping me.
I can re buy a new one,
yet it would not be the same.
I have had them since high school,
and have spent incalculable time
of use with them.

Of all things that were lost,
these are some of the hardest for me.
I will miss the moments of connection.
The moments of enjoyment, even the back pain that was sure to follow.
The smell of leather and dirt, the feel of wear from years of use.

Almost as if part my childhood, adolescence and adulthood are now lost to me.
Times of one on one. Times of teams. Times of fun. Times less than fun.
They reminded me of mouthfuls of seeds, and spitting, rally caps, the smell of fresh cut grass, using cleats as a shovel, and inspiration.
All of which have impacted me in someway.
It will be different when the three us throw around now in something new.

Developing fire

I don't know where to begin. Last Thursday I experienced something I never would have thought that i would. I watched my world burn before my eyes. It's a bit surreal to be honest. almost as if it didn't happen, but the burns on my arm and the memories I cannot seem to shake hold me in my reality.

It was any other day. I was home alone and had to work later in the evening. I was on the phone and casually mentioned that I had smelt smoke, which I disregarded because I had just used the oven. I took a shower, and when I stepped out of the bathroom the air was permeated with smoke. It was all around. I searched for the source, but to my dismay I was unable to locate it. It was getting worse however, then I looked out the front window and saw a random lady stop her car and run to my garage, a strange occurrence. When I opened the garage door I was met with a wall of flame.

I immediately ran to the fire and frantically searched for something to extinguish it with, I tried a rake, but it burned off at the handle. I ran back into the house to fill a garbage can up with water-it was all I could think of. When I returned to the garage the fire had spread, and so had my overwhelming dread. The garage door began to close, I bent over almost spasming under the smoke in my lungs and the fire had reached the door. I exited as quickly as I could and my mind raced in every direction. I grabbed the phone and headed out the front door.

I threw myself into the snow in front of the garage, frantically trying to throw snow at the beast who destroying all before my eyes. It was a futile act. I watched in horror as the fire grew in spite of my efforts and I realized I could do nothing. I ran back to the house to get brownie out. I went inside to the stairs and found that she had hidden on the second floor, she came at the sound of my voice-she's an amazing dog-and we ran outside. I stood at the door, coughing, looking in as the darkness filled the house and shouted for the cats, they would not come and I could not go back in. I called and I called and my brother who has given me a life here, rushed over.

I waited in the snow watching as the fire destroyed. I cursed myself. I had the supreme feeling of helplessness, it was consuming everything. The heat burned my face, singed my hair...and I watched, where the fuck was the fire department, it will be too late, and I am to blame. How. How? Why? Why? my brother and his family?

I exposed my vulnerability to anyone there as I fell into a million pieces and wept, and cursed, and was angry and ashamed. I already felt like a blight on existence, now I had just cost my family-whom deserve so much-everything.

I was on my knees with no shoes, no socks and no shirt when the officer pulled up. He dragged me to his car and locked me in. It was here that I had truly lost what little composure I had left. i wanted to do more, to try more, and now I couldn't even see.

The moment I dreaded arrived, my brother found me. I didn't want him to see me the way I was. I didn't want him to know that I, his younger brother who he has always taken care of, just lost everything he had. I was afraid. How could I face him? How could I express how truly sorry I am, for everything. That's when he found me, at my lowest, and he was his best. He grabbed me, made me look him in the eye and expressed how he did not care about any of it, only me, his younger screw-up brother. I almost wished me punched me instead, but my brother is too amazing for that. He was what I needed and he was the strength for both of us.

The nightmare that destroyed our house and the items that held memories, has haunted me since that day. It's hard to shake it. I look at my brother and I know how lucky I am to have him and my sister-n-law, how strong they are and how they have held the family together. How they have lost everything and they are still so thankful and faithful. How even when it was thought it was my fault, that they didn't care, they still loved me and wanted me with them.

I know its weird but I can still feel the heat of the fire on my face. The odor of the smoke and the fire in my lungs. If I can sleep I dream about it, and when the dream is over, I know that reality is not. We have to face the charred remnants of our lives and forge a new one, together. For that I am thankful.

heart of darkness

My heart is a broken, tangled mess of a rock.
It has been damaged and it will bear the scars of times past;
Shame nor pity is felt.
I have lived. Just as you have lived.
We all carry the past as our burdens,
Not letting it get the better of us is the goal.
I have deluded myself into thinking I do not feel;
I do
My heart has felt the warmth of the moment, inviting the slightest touch to enter:
Thinking about knowing, realizing I do not.
Always more to learn, more to heal, more to hurt
Such is life, and life is worth living.
Even if it is only for the experiences of something stolen,
But there can be so much more.
Even where one has trod, to heal is reachable.
Thinking about knowing, and this I now do.