It is my turn.

Pointing my pistol at the sky.
So there would be hope for this.
Empty clip.
Pray that my dreams dont die
And my angel's not hit.


New place.
New smile.

Excuse me, this is all I've got left.

Spinning counter clockwise

Each turn robs the planet of angular momentum.

Slowing it's spin

The tiniest bit.

Lengthening the night

Pushing back the dawn.

Giving me a little

More time here

With you.

Peas in a pod.

Like the other side of a galaxy.

Closer to me.

Like the other side of the bed.

Might as well be light-years .

Smile when we wake up.

Only to realize how we have waken.

No longer entwined.

A barrier to fall between.

I don't remember what your hair smells like.

That gives me a lump in my throat

And a pain in my chest

Thousands of miles later,

It still will.

We used to be peas in a pod.

A million fish, one Moby Dick.

To paint your pain and frame it, hang it on my wall.

The death of a gods manifestation

More love in the brushstroke I lay than most know their entire life

but put to rest the face of a muse is none more than that

like the siren that sings me home

shipwrecked in the tempest, yet at the eye of storms you sleep

an unparalleled beauty that will be the downfall of man

greed and jealousy put wind in the sails of your search party

you rest, you sleep, I will find you

set the gales upon me no wind will steer this ship off course.

The day gravity was off.

  

  Get in the fucking car. It is way too cold. It starts to warm up. Turn on you seat heater.

   Five light bulbs illuminate an angel in a red bandana with the world in plastic framed by this white tile. Turn on point and walk out the door. The road is dark and it is getting late. -10 degrees when we hit the border only to have you say "what the fuck are we doing." We are having the goddamned time of our lives and not even noticing it. In the city you forget how bright the stars are exactly. Something dead and gone is so full of hope. With snow falling in a stillness that only this kind of cold can bring I start to worry if we should have came here.

  Lace up. Tuck in, gloves on just in time to live or die. Christ it is so cold out. Yet you, who by all means complains at 30 degrees has not said a word. Out of fear or pride I know not. In guiding you through the perils of a 50 foot long icy hill you seem to have a permanent smile. Which is far too rare in my opinion. Watching you grab your fate and say "fuck off" makes me glad to be alive. Just not to happy when you tell me to fuck off. A fall on site had nothing to do with how far I had already fallen except when you fell, stood up, blinked with snow in your long eyelashes and started to laugh. More of myself was in that smile than anywhere on earth for a second. Indoors you realize how cold you are. The burning of thawing set in as we crossed the same path to speed past blurred lights and ignore what it was. It is a constant red sky in our winter because of the snow reflecting the city lights. 

  

  We slept as the skeletons of Pompeii that night frozen intwined to protect you forever. Like those stars that night I knew I would rather burn brighter than than a thousand suns for just one second than a life time with out a chemical catalyst that triggers a planets destruction. You.

A Balancing Act

With nothing but the wind we are sent spiraling perilously to earth.

I find my balance on a rope strung between impossibility and improbability.

When crossed is not the desired destination in either direction.

How long can you stand there on the knives edge.

Once you were gone, if ever, the safety net disappeared.

All that is left is the cold hard reality of concrete.

That which will steal my last breath from the both of us if I lose what little balance is left.

Just a dream.

Can you will someone to do somethings in life. 

 When I woke up my heart was swelling from your laugh and voice. You were so close yet across the galaxy. I looked to my phone for the time and before my eyes could focus it was you. Your voice came through loud and clear as if to say "wake up." 

This is when I begin to describe my dream.

We were in an all white mica sitting room furnished in Corbusier, Roset, Eames and the like. floor to ceiling windows filled the room with bright green light filtering through the leaves of spring. I could smell the dew on the air in my dream. Now that I think of this, you built this house. every aspect I can recall screams your name. I just saw one of your houses.

I kind of come to in this all to real and familiar sitting room to hear your voice in the distance shouting inaudible words that i knew to be kind. As if a dream within a dream I knew what I saw and have a hard time admitting it. A boy about 2 years old is pattering across the floor at what I can only describe as a gallop. Tiny white polo, navy shorts and your blue eyes. Wait, this is my grandson. Yes, it has to be. Not yet sure who exactly you are in my mind or dream as you turned the hallway I saw it was you exactly as I remember. Something was different but I could not place it this time. He was our grandson. I could feel my stiffness and hear a change in your voice. holding my grandson in one arm with some amount of strength and size about me I asked him "you like grandma more?" In a joking fashion. Yet as soon as his tiny feet touched the ground he ran for you. 

You were in the shower. I feel like you were singing, which by all accounts you never do, despite the face that you have an amazing voice. as he reached for the handle I was in close pursuit. The door swung open and you were not startled like it had happened a million times.   We stood looking at you until the little boy turned and ran out. The bathroom had a large mirror that was fogged, on an almost center island type vanity that creates the privacy and the separation. Once you noticed me staring at you our eyes locked and I realized what was different. You dropped your robe and paused for a moment before parting the shower curtain and continuing humming. It was like I had never seen you in my life and you were this amazing flower or a humming bird that is so fast you have to concentrate to see it. I loved you in that second more than ever and realized the difference was that we were old. You were old. I still saw you as I would see you today. Even a year ago for that matter and am starting to think I will always see you that way. Even after my sight has gone I believe you will still be the most beautiful thing in memory I have seen.

The power of words.

What we speak actually manifests its own self in reality more than we could ever think. The odds of the things that happen on a daily basis to individual people are beyond comprehension. What is chance? Another name for fate? In my opinion it is all the same.

 If you could see your fate could you actually do anything to change the course of events that is your life. Is this a pre-planned path we walk thinking that we have choices? Or is it no more than a series of events that are so deeply rooted in our subconscious that we try to explain them with words to describe an occurrence of the randomness in nature.

 No chance. No Fate. No Randomness. No hope for free will.

Truly one in a million

A Hang-Over Amigo

Turn it off, first thought.

Clothes on from the night before

Why change now?

Puke in the sink

Driving wakes me,

I dont remember her kiss.

I could not tell you what it sounds like,

the harsh realization that you took it for granted.

Sounds like a car crash in my head.

Too late.

Hang on to what you do have

or learn to drown.

I never need to swim.

Keep my head above water.

Never mind, drown again tonight.

Maybe you will remember her look.

a look of utter dissappointment.

Then it hits, the headache.

At least you feel something.

Remember to forget,

her laugh

her smile

her complete lack of surprise.

 

   

  Slowly the foundation sinks, the mortar cracks and we are left standing in a shell of what used to be all to familiar. However crooked and warped you still love parts of it. Always. Windows start to break and doors no longer close. Letting in everything we do not want and letting out what was left of the warmth. Now we stand divided, heart and home. Home is where the heart is and she is home. Not this house built on sand.

7641.

As we stood upon the crux of a life changing second, no-one second guessed it.

  An inaudibly low tone met my ears , I met fate as I walked into nothing but darkness and sound. As prescribed by those who knew personalities, by chance this was the meeting to end all meetings. Correct?

 

Yes. That very second will stand in infamy with two people and only two people, for all time. As if the wool had been pulled from my eyes and the wax gone from my ears. I heard and saw, yet could not breathe. I saw right through a person for the first and maybe last time to only see myself standing alone. Alone in a room, black and windowless, eyes to flood the world with hope.

A feeling that by all accounts was similar to a kick in the sternum as if almost to break, left breathless to the infinity of the overwhelming silence. Undulating rhythm in my ears was to my astonishment not my heart and the realty of this situation became all to clear. With more words in that uncommunicative noise than any human could ever utter, I knew. More than anyone has ever known in the history of the world. 

A glimmer of what we all think as children. Unabashed in our judgements before the ability to be jaded even exists. Like the first memory of happiness that has no image embodied. In the times where it all stops you remember everything, well at least i do. The shape of light cast by the sodium glow from the street light while snowing, falling across the face of perfection. In an instant there was a lifetime with every breath. Can you feel your heart racing. If feeling like this is possible then maybe a god does exist. In every second of every day, in every living thing. Maybe in that second where it all seemed to stop we just looked harder. Thats what i think.

 Every day we choose to not open our eyes as we did once. I will stare into my sun till the day I lose sight. Alas their must be eclipses? The sun comes back every time. It might just take longer, it can never be totally gone, just hope it never fades and you never forget. In that second I saw hope. Sic Transit Gloria.