Thursday, January 29, 2009

Sad to Write, Tears to Speak

So here we are.
Family, friends, and acquaintances.
I have no clue who else is there but
this is for you, too.
For my brothers, nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts, uncles,
face I've forgotten, and faces I'll never let go.

Someone we love has passed on,
has moved on.
Something that is hard to grasp at the moment.
A woman we all love, in our own way;
something death cannot take away.
I know some here witnessed her birth and youth,
some of you grew up together,
or have always looked up to her
even if you had to look down as you got older.

As I continue on, I realize today is for us, these words are for us.
All these tears, hugs, and spent emotions are for us.
But the wonderful things she gave us,
the learned things,
or those we've always known
are here, as well.

To my brothers,
its up to us to carry on her will,
things we hold in our hearts,
and things we never knew she gave us.
For every situation I am in
I can hear my mother's voice and guidance
speaking to me.
My mother,
forgive me
OUR mother
will always be with us and she will be passed on through us.
Whether it be children, words of wisdom,
or that look that used to stop me in my tracks
and let me know:
You have royally messed up.
My brothers Adam and Zach, please be strong.
People love you and you know mom will always be looking after you.
So, what, could go wrong?

To Albert,
what can I possibly tell you?
My love and respect you have
earned a million times over.
In you I have witnessed
the strength and the will
to live through the pain of decay.
To the dawn of a new day,
I salute you.

What else can I say on this day of loss
to live on to sing her song.
She loved us all.
We miss you mom.
Regardless if you are just a thought,
or a prayer away.
See you one day,

For Jim

Belly button lint
tell me your story
Where did you come from?
Oh! Where are you going?
I find you
in my belly.
But on the bright side I get to pick you out.
So, seriously,
how did you get there?
I pick you away
yet you always come back.
I guess we were meant to be.
but no more
'cause frankly,
You kind of disgust me.


In a state of nonexistence
I defy the odds
and quickly pull myself together
because if I am going to accomplish anything,
it has to start here.
Cast off and brushed aside
I have been left to a void
which any thing will wisely avoid.

I collect and I gather cells, atoms,
and if I'm lucky,
my body parts,
into something resembling my former self.
Using all focus and concentration
I cannot even use this time apart to gather my thoughts.
But time apart led me here
or maybe I did,
but I really don't have
a moment to waste.
A moment without her
burns like an eternity
in hell.

So, once torn and broken,
I've now pulled myself together.
And feeling confident but not overly,
I say fuck a plan.

And I move to make a stand.
It felt like forever
but she had just walked out the door.

I take the heart she has in her hand,
my heart,
which she has just ripped out of my chest
and take it back.

But I have no clue how to put this bloody pump back into my chest...
and its been mine my whole life.
But it took her two seconds and instinct to rip it out.

Well, fresh meat, anyone?

Street dreams

I walk down a street
that has a story.
I know nothing about.
So I make up my own.
This path leads to Never where.
A place that never was,
but always is.
A place that has no secrets,
yet tells no tales.
It is what it is
and it is what it isn't.
Its occupants come and go.
But you'd never know.
It changes with time,
but I'm not aware how.
It was here a baby was born.
It was over there a god was seen
wearing fake devil horns on hollow's eve.
They say the first story never
penned was never told
by a blind traveler who saw everything
and forgot it the next instant.
Here lies
the first stone stolen
from the first pyramid.
Built by a drunk to keep the roach
he captured under a cup from getting out.
I think that one was made up.
But who cares.
That stoop sitter will start a war,
commission a new compiled history
once he wins simply to make it a true story.
The bodies will be countless,
but he'd damn all hell
if he'd let a good story
go to waste.


She questioned the ways
that I passed the days.
Her opinion was firm
and her words lingered in my mind.
She told me, "You seem lost and waiting for something."
"I'm not dead." I replied.
"Maybe not, " she said.
"But are you sure you're alive?
You'll know it, when you are." *

We said our goodbyes
and went our seperate ways.
I tossed in my sleep
and I started to weep.
I cried myselt to relief
and I fell asleep.

And woke with a dream
true and sweet.
So I made my own way
through the blooming day.
And I followed my heart
because it knew where to find her.

And when I saw her, she knew.
"I've been waiting for you. " She smirked.
"I know." I told her.
And before I could act
I was tasting her lips
and resting my hands on her hips.

It can't all be magic like this.

Poem C789 Away

When I pass away
My memories will be lost
Like tears in the rain.
Have you ever tasted
My grandmother's food
or seen my grandfather's smile?
My story is history.
Will you even read the liner notes?
Am I worth your time?
I spend so much life dreaming
and dream so much about life.
When will I ever get them straight?

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Lust on my mind

From this angle
I mengtally detangle
the ties that hold on her shirt.
Oh, no!
I look away and blush
because you are supposed to,
when caught.
but getting caught is only
an impetus, at best.