I am not the me,
not the me you thought I’d be,
not the one to set you free
and not the one you once believed
would stem the tides of seas.

I am more than me,
not the one you had foreseen,
but just like you I had a dream –
a delicate contingency –
depending on a “we.”

image: Untitled blue

sometimes when i’m bored,
there’s a girl who makes me think
i wouldn’t be anymore
if only i extended
the slightest of gestures.

i could ask her name,
her favorite color, or something
- anything to break the ice;
but i’m married to the habit
of wanting, not getting.

doesn’t matter how accessible
her smile may seem, or her heart may be;
i always find a way to settle
for far, far less
- and yet so much more -
than i could ever get.

(brought to you by the words bored, habit and settle)

mourning is for those
who wholeheartedly believe
there is no reprise.

morning is the time
hopeful souls rely upon
just before the dawn.

image: eggman

the last call crowd found me
gazing, through the window, outside.
last time here i gazed at you,
no interest in the passersby.

but things change;
glad your dad’s doing better
- unlike that night
when you were frightened
by uncertainty,
and nothing pleased me
more than simply
being
             there
                          for you.

here, we have no need for mirrors;
we are not the introspectors -
only those with fault need bother.
we change the rules, make others follow.

photo: Chuckumentary

in the quiet place,
with the quiet people,
we sit, we listen,

hoping to recognize,
hoping to receive
the still, small voice Divine.

instead of inspiring consumption
then supplying the means,
let’s hand out the cash,
praying that they’ll spend it.