the voice comes to me
as a phantom in a dream.
as i write
the voice channels
from him to me.
to staring at the sea,
to the house
that no longer carries
his childhood dreams.
vacanies searching for occupation
from passing through stations
to platforms holding onto memories,
all of it comes to me.
in my internal screenplay,
is he the playwright
or the main lead?
the nature of it,
all of my opposites:
or brilliant confidence.
is my empathy a curse
or is this a curated character chiseled in verse?
in the blaze of the summer heat, drips
of sweat rippled down our smooth skin backs.
we set out for adventure along the Pacific coast,
the four of us squeezed in a compact sedan.
sisters laughing, shouting, nowhere else to be.
engaging winding hair-pin turns, honking,
speeding, and slamming on the brakes
as the afternoon sun scorched the town.
we reveled in the sights, mountainsides, sea
cliffs, the endless shore; such views we’d never
seen before or soon forget. we eventually reached
the city of angels, the city lights; the most memorable
trip of our lives sailed through those late nights. we
often walked in a daze, both night and day.
a trip we still laugh about, the screams belting out
winding down the coast, and how close we were
to the end of it all…
they will never know the stillness,
the silence, as the world hushes when the first snowflakes drop out of the sky. they will never feel the crisp air or see white blanket the fields as it does every year. kept indoors, safe and warm, where humidity breathes, where mist showers from above, and crawling critters burrow, where life continues. under wraps to avoid a deep freeze, never a first blossom of the year but life sustains returning again, and again. among rows of green as infants in a nursery, this is the only place sprouts now grow. under a careful eye we’re both determined to stay alive.
The summer’s ritual of an evening rain gushes down upon my large umbrella. I quickly step to dodge flooding puddles surrounding me. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing most of my life, avoiding disasters. But the person awaiting my arrival, he is my safe haven. Everything leading up to this moment, although it may have been disastrous at times, is exactly how it should have been. I pull to close the umbrella, brush a few raindrops from my face, take a deep sigh, and pull open the door to the coffee shop where we’ve arranged to meet. He stands to greet me. My nerves are shot, and I can’t for the life of me know where to begin. I squeeze out a nervous smile. We’ve already reconnected for the past year but, this is the first time I get to see him again and I’m uneasy. Do I start from step one, see where this goes? Do I immediately pull into the throes of a lover’s embrace? So many questions racing for an answer. I want to turn off the questions in my mind, sit here and stare at him for a while. Order a coffee & tea, and say something, anything to believe that this was all meant to be. I want him to teach me a few phrases I have yet to learn and do all the things we have left to do. And I know we will. We have the time. We have
all the time. We have all the time for us.
Thanks for reading. This is an edited repost from August 2020.
you think you know a guy
years, months, weeks, day in and day out conversations exchanged how things were left unsaid how we chose, or chose not, to be how we hide behind the way we speak how we say, or don’t say, the things we mean you think you know a guy and suddenly he’s a stranger you never knew his thoughts, never knew the things he’s done, never knew the reasons why things have come undone you think you know a guy now he’s an ass, a jerk, in a mid-life crisis, he doesn’t know how to deal he’d rather eschew responsibility and break away you think you know a guy he only showed what he wanted you to see now he’s come clean, no more pretending you think you know a guy but did you ever really know him at all?
Thanks for reading. This goes out to anyone who has been blindsided by a loved one.
Every Autumn fills
with browns and reds, yellows and oranges; Sweeping leaves and a steady wind blowing through trees. Halloween decorations, candy corn, and costume trials as little ones prepare for changes in the air. Days lead up to celebrating another trip around the sun, and yet this season is another reminder of all those years ago when we lost you. Years collect dust rings in the corners of my mind, so many things that could have been shared. The warmth of your embrace, the gentleness of your hands, all we lost when cancer captured you. No longer a smile beaming, distant eyes, a dream that no longer bled truth. Doctors predicted six months, then three, it turned to mere weeks. Sam was no more than a week old when she greeted you. Pictures snapped lost but still haunt. We didn’t need them to prove an ending met a beginning. It was part of our story to carry on.
Driven too far,
gone too fast,
said too many things
to make it last.
Now you’ve gone away
and we can’t go back,
back to where this love
Now I drive too long
to make sense of it all.
Drive too hard
to run away from it all.
But I can’t go back,
back to where this love
The lights don’t shine bright for me.
No, I can’t go back to where
we used to be.
Sure, it’s easy to say
we can make it different
but I think it’s better this way.
Out there beyond the hill
Lights twinkle in time with distant voices
Preparing for the new year
Making small promises of things to come
Promising small victories of things to overcome
What will they remember
When they look back at the year
The fickle promises collapsing around them
Or achievements made
Or constant redirections to get through another day
I’m in, all in
I’m kicking and screaming as loud as can be
From the tops of the mountains
To the valleys below
I’m shouting everywhere I go
I’d move everything I see
If it blocked you from me
As long as you’re near
There is nothing we should fear
From the moment we first kissed
My heart immediately knew it
This poem is available in Coffee Shop Sessions II. Click
here to purchase on Amazon: Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One.