4.27.2012

there are days for healing hands, and days for breaking them

there comes a time
in every man's life where
he must learn to come to terms
with the terrifying fact
that he has gone about it all wrong.
that every climb is met
with yet another climb.
that the very air they breathe
is poison.
that the tickling feeling
on the inside of their arms
will most likely be there with him
until the very end.

put on a brave face,
a crooked smile.
breathe deep the poison
in the air.

there comes a time
in every man's life where
he must lay among
the pine boughs
and tall grass ,
in a sad valley,
sitting next to a river
at the base of a mountain.
there comes a time
in every man's life where
the noisy din of a city
can loosen the bones
in an overworked body.
where time is a cruel bitch
and satisfying lover
set to pounce
from the shadows.

forget everything
you thought you knew.
forget everything
you have learned.
wait for an exit.

there's enough joy to go around,
and people are holding hands
and laughing on cold beaches.
and there are worn picket fences there
and giggling children.
and there are songs in the air
that seem to hang on for a lifetime.
and books filled to bursting
with beautiful words for the weary.
there are tables with white linen
draped as delicate as a dragonfly's wings,
decorated with food you can taste
for the very first time in your life.
and there are tears on chiseled cheeks,
but I want you to know that it's OK.

there just comes a time
in every man's life.

4.10.2012

on sleeping in upturned earth

there was a moment there
that seemed like it could last
forever
suspended and skin deep
and and
and I turn my eyes
from the glare
that seems to penetrate
down to the bone

there’s no sunrise
like today's sunrise
there’s no breath
like the one
anchored in
an anxious touch
I’m tired now