Friday, December 30, 2011

My Acquiesce

This callous cold bites my toes

And this worry keeps me awake

What an awful companion this winter chill makes


In the city that housed my adolescent fantasies

I came face to face with this wiser woman and she

Does not like to bullshit


Months before I was sure I could make a home

On this street

But tonight, when that girl and this woman meet

I become the slug on the wet concrete


At least I wished I was

Instead of this neon sign, always abuzz

The truth is, I am a chicken shit

In the face of sacrifice


But these months of oblivion had me so down

Among the subtle sweetness of this salty town

I am as shrouded as the slug

But as exposed as the neon sign, always abuzz

Monday, December 12, 2011

 There is no such thing as could have been


Yesterday is a long lost friend

But one I can no longer relate to

So often I have ached for you

Romanticized the past

Till it became a beguiling melody

The sounds evenly soothe and pain me



A hearty, heavy breeze

As rain drips from emerald trees around me

My new green world

Makes a muddy mess of memories



What was and what could have been

Are divided reveries with parallel paths

And on the road that landed me here

I keep traveling back

Gathering wreckage

Adding it to my suffrage



Each time the story changes

Or perhaps it is me who rearranges it

To satisfy the selfish parts of me

The parts that cling so dearly these pictures of what was



I dig through the memoirs zealously

But cannot see what I want to see

I see you and me

But dear old friend

There is no such thing as could have been