Finding Voice

I walked outside and screamed at the bottom of my driveway,

only because I knew no one would notice,

well, they did, and their doors shut,

I stood in my neighborhood and felt completely alone.

 

The manicured lawns,

similarly styled rose gardens,

the roof repair and invisible fences,

street signs that suggested we all slow down.

 

I glanced around and decided to scream outloud again,

more doors shut,

the street seemed to empty in a silence

more apparent than I’d noticed before my unravel.

 

I stood there for a long time

watched kids on their bicycles take the corner before

having to coast past the man at the end of the driveway,

I realized for the first time I might have been noticed.

 

I walked back up to my garage,

played some music while drilling some wood,

the sweat on my brow, I wiped with my forearm,

I glanced at the street, a squad rode by … I waved.

Solo

If

while

barren

hallways

become invitations

are we lost

inside

our

own

fearful

conceptual

absolute reality.

Sitting alone

today

I ws forced

to imagine

where everyone

might choose to be

rather than with me,

yet instead crossed my mind,

the notion,

what compels me to hide

in empty spaces.

When there it seems

compelling

lately,

just recently,

really,

that I am the only one,

when another walks in the space

I occupy

solo.

In The Quiet

Her voice,

for years my guiding melody,

such sweet surreal

knowledge.

When I was a kid,

I remember wondering if

always unsure,

was she walking or going away,

the tears wouldn’t stop,

I waited,

that’s when I learned the true meaning

of abandon …

When I can sit and write these words,

how might I define the rivers in my eyes?

somewhere out there,

the sky so longing,

somehow I do know there is a reckoning,

yet my only wish as I

imagine

is that she might tell me how to get there.

For now I remain in the quiet of her memory.

I Remember Hallways

stairwells

I remember eyes wandering,

hiding behind cedar posts,

paying more attention to the tiles,

until common footsteps

might begin again.

My bench in the center of two seas

swaying toward and moving away

ascending and crossing paths

smiles and scorns

tired looks, and glaring fear.

I remember

hiding in plain sight

hiding in plain sight

hiding in pain’s flight

while all of you kept your lives in check.

I remember wondering

if the waves of human condition

might ever stop

might slow down only for a minute

a second or two of time,

always remember wandering,

or wondering,

where the lives belong,

where the time had gone.

Subjective Glance – A Sonnet

One moment smiling and the next staring

Interactions in a public setting

That quiet notice, affect disappears

While worlds revolve alone surely glaring

Upon each other, likened blood-letting.

Vulnerable, practices masking fears,

Each time we step outside our remedy

There waits another, sordid malady.

If ever we might laugh a genuine

Note of honesty certain, seems serene.

Delightful realities, open minds

Live freedoms without the constant rewind,

The subjective nature holds a release,

Leveled obstacles scrutinize our peace.

Sitting Alone

I called

out

and spent the rest of the time

wondering

about

why I sometimes feel lacking,

timing is off

tick, tick, tick.

Yet in the morning the golden amber

of sunlight will streak the sky,

daylight will not be prevented

no matter how hard I try, to stay awake at nigh-

I am

sitting alone

in a world of thousands,

spectators,

that forgot about the game at hand

too busy getting concessions for their best value

when then can I defend my actions

if while I allow the negativity of the day

coarse through my veins

I’m left with little but

reality of my own actions

my own clock

tick, tick, tick.

That would suggest we are just past the

half hour, or is it fifty, or minutes remain

hard to say when the trivial

Nature of life and why we exist

becomes,

just that.

Alone

without guidance, a fleeting notion,

one that suggests

despite our desire to embody frustration

there is a force greater than us.

Look outside tonight,

see the moon obvious

filled with the pitch of that morning sunlight

shining, beckoning, over seeing

my world tonight,

alone,

though others generally see it as well.

The moon I mean, when I am alone.