all the pretty things ( for A.G.)

i feel the chill in my bones
your ghost's been playin' with me
me and i don't know
anything
when i'm feelin' somethin'
you're
like a dream in my head
you're always playin' with me
me then
i don't know where you go
hundred years ago or somethin'

sitting at the window
thinking times so far away from us
it takes such little things
to keep us on the spot and standing up
looking out that window loving
all the years i've lifted up
all the pretty things,
and the weight when i picked 'em up

reading this back i wonder why i plant the seeds

i saw a painting of a bowl of berries
and it reminded me of my life

they were all at peak;
ripe and ready and even
the ones layed round the bowl
each perfect on their individual
own

meant to be eaten that day
they were and is life
as i pick my tomatoes and
peppers
and they lay for days

past ripe and maybe
i lose them and maybe
i could dry them but
i face it
i don't know the procedures
i don't make the time
and such is this bowl of berries
right now. lately.

my self imposed times out
barely steer this ship com
pared to the beatings rendered
from parents to a boy child

two hurricanes

so this is how we live as
neighbors on the sandbar
scurrying about broomed and shoveling
our mess
back into the places where
we
feel it should go
and keep it there in safe maintainance
until the next time the
weather decides that it should be
spread around like this
our mess,
our shit on display for all
to see...all those private bathroom
moments in thought, once lost and now

in the middle part is a darkness
-a backing into something
a nightmare, a key
a crying child and something said
to me long ago but as i said
just a darkness now on the x-ray
a mass, a backing into a new old hell
the images on this skull jump like pages
turning from zombie to Ernest.

maybe the medication makes me feel like
the rest of the population;
and if this is fact then i want to
feel like i used to
when i was afraid of nothing
i am yet afraid of nothing

hurricane two times

sobers

i understand sobriety
but the drink
-the smoke

they keep me up
in ter es ted

the drink makes the night
come alive, mo
re vibrant

the smoke just makes
the assholes at the spot
bearable

faith

i truly believe
that my faith
requires me
challenges me to
take on that dark side.

nothing is forever

and there is an ugly
but orchestrated beauty
in that

in there/here

therapist

everyone gets the
yes answer
yes, fine
it is fine

golf was
work is
medicine too
it's all

perfect

the only one that gets
the whole truth is
the rapist
so

if you want to
stare down this
tunnel
seeking light
go on-
shoot yourself in my head

cold

insanity may

be mis
understood

brilliance