Category: poem

i don’t want to go to the west coast, to leave our troubles behind – only to catch up with us by the time winter hits. the mountains, forests, beaches and cities won’t make us feel at home.

don’t drag me to the east coast, to live without modern-day worries – we’ll be distraught trying to break our habits. the ocean is too dark and too deep for me to ever find peace.

i’ll never fall asleep in the north – those sunny nights and dark days will make me an insomniac. polar bears will never be mans best friend.

if you decide the southern life is where you need to be – i’d make the trek. scorpions, spiders and the perpetual heat would make my blood boil. however, I would feel alive.

regardless of my worries, I would feel at home in your company. in the presence of your love.

how far back do our shadows cast themselves?

in my youth, did i play
admiration and bliss
shared upon others

in my adolescence, did i search
fearful and ignorant
seeking answers lost

in my mid-age, will i succumb
struggle and disconnected
are we all bound

in my old age, will i begin
joy and enlighten
the years on my eyes

though my face and attitude stretch and age, my shadow still reflects.

does the night comfort you?
or does it solidify your fears.
like terrors that tingle up your spine.
the tremors in your hands, a tell all sign.
but if you kept it all inside,
i’m sure it’d just eat you alive.

i was never one for early mornings,
didn’t care for the sun rise.
because the dawn always breaks,
when i’m still trying to sleep.
though the suns new warmth,
cuts through the cold night like a knife.

i think i fear the new day more,
then the quickly setting sun.
my eyes sting less,
when the moon beams hum.
my breath calms with the cool winds,
through the silence of the night.

i put my hand into the silver, the shift of temperature tingles along my arm.
i can feel the presence, of another who wants to connect with like minds.
grasping on to them, i pull and struggle to stay in place.
tightening my grip, pain begins to pierce me.

i cannot fight the force,
i cannot let go,
i struggle within,
will i subdue?

or is this all moot – will i always be engaged
to escape

buried golden boxes filled with memories,
of years you should have forgotten,
along with scraps of who you came to be.

these should not be taken lightly,
pain laced words from innocent tongues,
that will sting your heart and soul.

if you were to misplace this treasure trove,
or even start anew,
would you ever seek it out again – or be complacent that you are you?