The Album

Looking at life past
Looking at life passed

Those babies aren't babies
Anymore
The wrinkled ones
Have both passed on
There's me the father, me the son

Photographs of "pre-me"
Were they the cave years?
Were they the slave years?
Carved out of the time-line
Of my life on earth?

Or practice years for
Today's performance?
My "10,000 hours"
My exhibition games

"She" is there too.
When did the smile
Become a grimace?
Nurture to menace?
Adoration to indifference?

Monday morning quarterback
Monday mourning quarterback
The truth of photos
Now open
To interpretation

Kinda Blue

I am feeling 
kinda blue.

Don't know 
what to do

It's raining 
outside

Inside too

Inside out

Outside in

With, without

Sink or swim

While You Were Away

While you were away
I missed you in a way
That was okay
Because I know
We are okay
No matter what.

What a good feeling
Like knowing you
Will soon be out of the cold
Wrapping your arms
Around the comforting
Warmth of love.

I thought of all
The reasons I love you
And made up more

Insomnia

ruthless, 

grinding

sleeplessness

muting the

brightest light

and sweetest

soul and

most deserving

creature

I have ever met

hope for

health for

her

Miles Apart Together

Lying some miles apart  

No skin on skin tonight

Eyes open in the dark

Seeking your shape

No stroke of hair

Nothing smooth 

No scents to 

Lull a boy 

Imagining you

Missing my fingers

My hair and my beard

Touring your temple

Inch by inch

Ebb and flow

Connected

Protected

Contented

Untitled

I'm in love with her essential
Not just with her potential
And our love is Providential
It's bloom is Exponential

Although separate residential
Our meld will come eventual
Our impatience Influential
On matters so torrential

November Landscape

Tossed another hour

On the wakeful fire

Wondering what in the 

World has just transpired

My body is rejecting

Sleep, ejecting waste

Another enemy 

this time within

I have been ordered

To do too much 

with too little

For too long

How can I protect

The only things

That matter when

I'm being poured

Through a funnel

Into a world

With no escape 

A dreary, bleak,

November landscape

No shadows no forms

No silhouettes

Nothing familiar

To lean on

No hope to hold on to

From my former life

That clings to me

Like a bad reputation

And My bliss is put on hold

As I attempt escape

The stranglehold 

Of debt and obligation

To a world that I rejected

After that world

Rejected me

I'm still held down by

Gravity

It's not the monetary cost

That matters most

I'm used to sacrifice

Filling a hole that 

Can't be filled

A Hungry monster

In A bottomless pit

On a dead end street

In a condemned

Neighborhood

For now, it feels

Like death row

But I know that 

After winter

Comes the spring

I must hold on

For come the spring

I will be dancing.