This kid in school

I was standing next to

Was pulling hard on a rope

Stuck between two trees

With every ounce of his strength

Until BOOM! it came loose

And he punched himself in the face;

His pain was so deep and so great

He attacked the first person he saw

Just because i was there

We need a place to pour our hurt

And any old bystander will do

Until the smoke clears

And we find we’ve torn

A larger, gaping wound

Big enough to fall into

Deep enough to never get out

I have run out of words

Like a car with an empty tank

Coasting down a hill

Hoping for a gas station

Before momentum ends.

Pump the gas,

Flood the engine,

Wait…

Turn the key

One more time

Maybe it will start

And we can keep going.

I hear the wind

Ominous in the distance

Marching like the dark

Eastward across this placid lake;

This is the way of storms,

They wail from the distance

That you might run,

That you might hide,

Becoming better sport

To root out with lightning

And crush beneath the falling trees

Or wash away in the waves…

In his wisdom

Solomon decided

To kill a baby

By cutting it in half

That each grasping hand

Could leave happy

With equal portion

But one lousy lady

Decided it hurt too much

And gave her share away

“Love cannot hold tight

Like a person on the rack

Tearing apart its object

Leaving one content

With memories hoarded like gold

Buried, useless, and dead

Beneath heart’s floorboards,

It let’s go and lives in hope…”

The paddleboard drifts away,

Small island lost on the lake

A heart alone in perfect isolation

Far from the madding crowd;

There is peace away from desperation

As loon-song drives out thought

Leaving silence as a blessed balm

And a momentary space for healing

Hidden upon the waves.

The paddleboard drifts away

Toward horizon’s hopeful harbour

Where the imprisoning earth gives way

To health and happy homestead

Where grow the evergreen trees

Amidst a warm, life-giving breeze

And all that one wants

And all that one needs

Are the simple gifts of these

Pushing out the pleas of please and please

Oh to be forever

A ghost upon the waters…

There was a man

In the process of drowning

With a face painted in terror

While another person

Threw great wide coils

Of cotton candy rope

A salvation solid as a cloud

Handfuls of hope

That brightened his heart

Then dissolved like morning mist

Beneath the rising sun

Person laughed and laughed and laughed

With each joy murdered

Man flailed and flailed and flailed

“WHY WON’T YOU DIE?”

“WHY CAN’T I LIVE?”

And they’re still there

Screaming and drowning

Hoping and hating

As the waters turn pink

I am content

In a resigned sort of way

Like a man after a marathon

Who must fall to the ground

As if never to move again,

Like the sun

Sinking into the western woods

Despite its passion for the day

It must fall to night with hope

That it will rise again in the morn.

I am content

In a resigned sort of way

Like a man who has cried so hard

He collapses empty and void

Simply waiting for fate

To write the rest of the story.

I am content

In a resigned sort of way

Like a man who has dropped a ring

Through a subway grate

And into the darkness beneath;

Look,  he walks away,

Feeling loss and hopeful to awake

In a new day

To learn it was all a nightmare.

I am content

In a resigned sort of way

To be the best man I can be

And hope it is enough

To carry me

To carry we.

Sit on the dock

And watch this life,

As participant and witness

There’s a partnership of nephews

With neice and in-laws

And one worried dog

Keeping watch over water-play

Beneath a setting sun

That paints the lake

In broken blue and fractured gold;

There is wife with her sister

Working on something new together

While brother-in-law reads

Sit on the deck

And watch this life,

i am an idiot in love

As the world moves too fast

Toward epilogue.

If life is sustained

Through sunlight

Then find your stars within

Lest you die in the night

As you fly like a moth

Into the nearest flame

That bends your way

Would you rather be

A fool or a coward

How about both?

Is this an option?

Well I don’t see why not

Tell me about them

Well the fool is favored

For knowing who they are

And not being ashamed of it

But the coward…

The coward sees the need

and runs away in fear

But the foolish coward

Journeys from anger

To a place of resignation

Knowing there’s nothing they can do

To change a heart or stem disaster

And in this sacred knowledge

They fall still as a witnessed deer

Seeking only to be the best of themselves

In how that it makes a difference.

Coolish coward it is then.