lost

lost like a swimmer
in the english channel,
freezing cold
and soaking wet.

the greatest tragedy?
i've watched all my goals
get shot down
into pitiful mounds of dust.

now if you ask me,
what i want the most,
i can only offer
a sorrow-filled silence.

Eulogy Poem

I wrote this for my Grandad's funeral several weeks ago. Many have requested a copy of it, so I thought I'd also put it here for safe "digital" keeping.

Gathered here today,
We remember a special man.
When it seems like only yesterday,
Our time with him began.

He always spread love and joy,
In addition to his pride.
I can think of no calmer place,
Than being by his side.

He's given us many good memories,
One too many to recall.
Only now instead of living next to us,
He lives on within us all.

Alarm

It's nothing at all like the movies, where people just fall down and die.

I was taking a shower. Just early enough to guess whether I should eat breakfast or lunch. I get out, walk to my room - naked - and then I hear it.

Real gunshots don't sound like they do in the movies. In real life they reverberate inside your head and hold implications you can't even begin to fathom from the comfort of a cushioned movie theater seat.

Then I heard it: "Oh God, Oh God. Oh God, Oh God." I don't know how many times she said it. Just that sometimes late at night I still hear it.

Bullets in real life aren't like the magic ones in movies that cause people to collapse on the spot and stop living. Not just one, anyway. I could hear footsteps. A man pacing around downstairs, constantly asking, "Who else is here?" I sometimes hear that at night, too.

My heartbeat replaced the sound of the gunshot inside my head, beating so loud it paralyzed me. The door to our room doesn't lock, so I race into the one next to it, my crashing footsteps alerting the intruder downstairs to my presence.

My wet hands fumble with locking the door. I scramble under the bed and crawl as near the head frame as I can get, pressing my wet, nude body against the wall. I hear a rattle as the man tries to open the door. Banging as he rams his shoulder into it. I stop breathing. I hear more echoes of "Oh God, Oh God, No."

He eventually kicks the door down. Two blacks boots are all I see, and all I hear are police sirens washing out the sound of my wife dying on the kitchen floor.

No director could capture that kind of fear and anguish. No one in the world could know how you could possibly feel. How easy it can be for someone to kill - to take revenge - on another human being.

Preach and pray all you want. It can never bring back the ones you love.

Morning Glory

alone, an old horse waits,
inside a holding pen,
before its final race
officially begins.

its greatest achievement,
is a perfect losing record,
but it still runs hard
every race - until the end.

this race will be its last,
even if it wins,
because horses don't retire
and lead simple lives.

two hundred to one odds,
will anyone cheer for it?
or say "job well done"?
who will bet on its last race?

to the orphanage

one empty suitcase,
and a room full of memories.
a couple of minutes to pack,
and leave my life behind.

split-second judgments
on the value of toys
and the importance
of things like clothes.

everything is a memento,
birthday presents,
fading faces in frames,
my chair, my window, my bed.

the last things i pack,
are the few last tears that drop
on top of a picture of my parents,
whom i'll never see again.

the small

we lay in bed,
silence as our blanket,
hiding daggers of thought
cloaked beneath pillowcases.

my insides hurt,
everything hurt,
and i wanted him
to be a little closer.

with my lips near his ear,
i whispered to him,
begged him to take tomorrow off
so we could talk it all over.

he grumbled, and said 'fine,
but my boss will be pissed.'
i kissed him and fell asleep,
as my alarm clock read 9:11.

alone in space

the one is a planet,
and she moves around
he who is the sun,
big and great.

a mystical force
keeps them in tandem
step for step,
moment by moment.

tethered by invisible
strings, miles long,
they travel silently
through the universe.

i am a Pluto,
no longer worthy of mention,
who crosses their path occasionally,
but otherwise is forgotten like a dream.

oh hi, im a muon

life isn't anything special.

the sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll start treating it like it is.

believe what you want - that you're here because of some divine purpose or to spread the word of a supreme being - whatever. but know that at the end of the day, when you lay your head down to sleep, millions of others do so as well that do the same things as you but in the name of a different god.

there are those who say this doesn't matter, that so long as someone's beliefs bring them happiness and spread good throughout the world then everything's OK.

no, it's not.

because for all of those people who are "happy with their beliefs" and "spread good in its name," there will be someone else who commits violence in the name of those same beliefs, and uses its message to corrupt and exploit.

any type of these beliefs are not the correct method for spreading peace and prosperity in our world. but ultimately that goal is an impossible one, so here my argument becomes moot.

just know that you aren't special. you never will be in the grand scheme of things. sure, to your family, lover, and friends, you are. but not to the cosmos or universe at large. not to the forces that govern all life in existence - forces that we don't fully understand.

our galaxy is minuscule. it is literally one of billions and billions. our sun is one of millions in our galaxy alone. our earth is but one planet in a plane of space so very large that the odds of there being no life anywhere else borders on something fantastical.

but people seem to have no problem believing in things like that.


leave a thought with what you think...

sounds of shattering glass

have you ever been bound and gagged before?
thrown in the back of a van?
you'd be surprised how quickly you go numb,
unable to feel anything except fear.

that's why when the kidnapper opens the van doors,
they never make a run for it.
they'd probably roll an ankle
or fall flat on their face, inviting an assault.

it doesn't matter how hard you yell,
'just run for it idiot...
see, this is why movies make no sense,
if it was me, i'd just haul it.'

you don't understand, you are pathetic,
with your fingers slippery with popcorn butter
and your beady, accusatory eyes judging like a god,
you think you've got it all figured out.

i've severed the strings
that hold the rest of you down
like big charlie browns
at a thanksgiving day parade.

and now i'm soaring,
higher and higher,
until the atmospheric pressure
pops me like a balloon.

you'd kill to get this high up,
but if you knew what i did
to reach this level of ecstasy,
you might end up insane.

closer

i stare up at the night sky
and imagine the millions of miles
between our galaxy and the next,
our civilization and the next.

how absurdly far apart we are,
such that we'll probably never meet,
never understand each other
or share parts of our lives.

it's then i realize
that you're not that far away,
and unlike the infinite universe,
you are here with me now.

not a burning comet
soaring in endless space,
but a shareholder of my world
that i can't wait to meet.

paintings (edited)

I did this poem a while ago, but fixed some of the rhymes and language to make the meter a bit better.

This is the story about a young couple,
Their love, like all, was tender and supple.
They loved one another as all couples do,
But it's up to you if their love is true.

We begin with the very first day they share,
During which the man was searching with care.
For the poor woman had just lost her watch,
They couldn't find it anywhere - oh what a botch!

And then the second day was not any better,
Even though the man promised he'd love her forever.
For the woman had lost her only job,
And to his condolences, she only mustered a sob.

On the third day, poor fortune struck thrice,
And today her faithful man was so humble and nice.
For the unlucky woman's dog fell and lost its life,
He tended to her heart, torn with sorrow and strife.

The fourth day was ripe with such bitter sorrow,
On this day she cried from the morning 'til the 'morrow.
When the woman learned of her father's passing,
The man tried to comfort her, but was not harassing.

The fifth and final day was by far the worst,
Her man was gone and her heart seemed to burst.
She awakened all alone and with a scare,
Until suddenly she noticed a letter by the stairs.

Her one truly beloved told her to go to the park,
So she did as he said, while moving through the dark.
He said to look for a bench plain in sight,
And by the time she got there, the sun shone bright.

Standing before her were five separate paintings,
And they quickly rid her of all the week's taintings.
Quickly and noticeably, tears filled her eyes,
She started to weep, but these were different cries.

The first painting was of her, in the very same coat,
And in it she was reaching deep, pulling out a note.
She did the same, and made a startled sound,
For in it was her watch, and a note, "Look what I found."

The second painting was of her dear homestead,
And beneath it lay an inscription that read:
"Our love runs deep, encompassing a wide range,
Not even losing a job, can ever that change."

Looking on to the third, was a painting that did show,
A young puppy of one, in a store window.
Attached to the painting, was another note that did say:
"I've left his name for you to choose, that is if you let him stay."

The fourth was a portrait of her father,
But his visage to her, did not seem to bother.
For below his face, were words far apart, saying,
"He has never truly died, he now lives within your heart."

The fifth and final painting was of a woman and a man,
The woman looked at paintings, while the man held out his hand.
In the painting she was slowly turning, looking behind her to see,
Her lover holding in his hand a ring, bent down on one knee.

lost

While lost one day
I remember my childhood,
when if I was lost,
someone would take me home.

Retracing my steps, I walk past houses I'm not allowed to enter.
Dead end after dead end mock me at every turn.
It's starting to darken as streetlamps flicker,
and I stare at the stars - wondering who will take me home.

dear self,

you have a lot to offer,
you can think positively,
you attract good things,
you aren't afraid of failing.

you swim in confidence,
you are most important,
you just need to be yourself,
you don't need to worry.

you hate the butterflies,
you like the unknown,
you love yourself.

which socks today?
purple, orange, or gray?
yellow for a smile,
pink for the style.

red if i'm mad,
blue if i'm sad.
black if i don't care,
oh - which to wear?

white for 'just another day,'
brown to be cliche.
green for 'look at that!'
wait, what about my hat?

you are small.
insignificant.
your problems
are but a single ripple
in the vast lake that is the universe.

you will never have an effect
on planets light years away.
you will die,
like everyone else,
your life ultimately meaning nothing.

so take your worries of today
and let them be washed away
by the tide of enormity
that blankets all things in existence
and serves as our only common thread.

halloween mystery!

more than some

i can run on my own two legs,
and that's more than some.

i can tell people i love them,
and that's more than some.

i can wake up with new goals,
and that's more than some.

i can buy food at a whim,
and that's more than some.

i can live a pain-free day,
and that's more than some.

but if only i loved myself more,
that would be more than most.

bliss

they didn't know why,
at such a young age,
how something like this could happen,
without any warning.

they didn't know why,
life veers this way some times,
putting our heads underwater,
leaving us gasping for air.

they didn't know why,
when they found him lying there,
his face looked so peaceful
and his mouth formed a smile.

the umbrella

it's beginning to rain lightly
onto my college campus.
the trees become heavier
as the sidewalk darkens.

walking below that gray blanket
i come across a girl.
she has on expensive clothes
and her hair is simply immaculate.

it is her umbrella that gets me,
with a little pink handle
and clear plastic cover that surrounds her
all the way down to her waist.