A Shifting Sunrise

There are days when it can be felt

a morning solace, peace of mind

a sort of reason to be able to thrive.

 

We count on those hours with hope,

not like planning the night before –

oh tomorrow will be that day.

 

We just feel it in our pores

we know the rains will come steady

as will a basking sunlight of freedom.

 

We just don’t know when we might

be asked, handle both in the same hour.

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda

Wondering The Hemingway

The first time I read he died,

I thought it a plot line.

I wondered how could a prolific artist

make such a morbid decision.

I thought, characters, roles

in the book please

-real life, fantasy-

 

the strain of alcoholism is real,

as is,

the dangerous notion of

escape,

I am living proof.

He reached a level of proof he close to not deny.

I have walked through life with suicidal notions

the majority

of my life.

 

Most often the reasons are very real

mistakes I have made

a reputation of not meeting a standard

the simple notion of

exhaustion.

 

we all have a job to do

we all have a job to do

 

yet today I am worthless,

barely able to complete a sentence

and yet here I am

speaking to this society

– we are all warriors –

some lost in our own fear,

others drawn upon the beauty

inspiration provides a healthy life.

 

I don’t feel healthy today.

Someone told me recently I have

touched so many lives.

What happens that day they wake and reslize

I was trying to convince myself

more attempting to guide them,

and I realized, I lost.

 

what happens then!

The Little Things

The disk on the radio

not the melody

yet what might be

waiting inside.

 

Remember random choice

when blues today

war zone tomorrow

yet always it happens

we want to hear

 

from her

about her

because her

designed by

her

 

not today though

say it in your head

three times

then watch your hand

 

reach for the dial

you know she is waiting …

 

… only love is …

her

Unable To Find Home

though one might

glance inside a world

pass judgment

imagine otherwise,

just how often are

we

a human being

some defined enigma

stricken within some

spoken reality

cast aside

by societal norm.

 

who is it determines

what to emphasize

which to honor

his mastery

this ‘cummings’  with words

when every turn of a

phrase

become The rhetoric

beyond whom is

our silent keeper

 

unable he shouted

only to realize waves

crashing always

nearby.