Autumn

The earth and leaves
leave an earthy scent
that sends me home,
refreshed from the homely,
weary ways in which the winds wave.

Crisp, October air bites
and comforts in the same breath.
Damp and dry,
Beauty and demise,
when life eclipses death.

The sun prepares her goodbyes
Her sorrow spectacularly lashes out
her tears splatter the sky.
She smoulders in a violet pout.
Her silver sister gleams in a stoic stride.

High and Dry

High and dry,

satisfied.

Memories flood me
of the waves slapping, crashing, bounding, and lashing.
The sea’s ceaseless battery.
Helplessly panicking, beating, and thrashing.

Sinking like a rock, and heavy as one too.
Soaked as a dog with mange
Shivering, descending into the blue.
Saturated, destined to a watery grave.

Yet here I am,
my land legs still intact, my body still sound.
The sun warms my face, my skin supple and tanned.
I smile at my time in the water, the times that I almost drowned.

I appreciate the warmth
and look forward to the coasts.
My back to the tides.
Onwards I go,

to stay high and dry.

What It’s Like to Leave

The damp dirt soothes my soul
as I walk to my Jeep through damp grass,
pouring rain.
Go get gas.
Come back to me.
I choke, tears roll.

I swallow, it’s easier to quickly bail.
The pedal dictates my forced escape
trapped in a mobile, ironic jail.
My journey just now taking shape.

Darkness descends desperately
surly skies sulk
cigar clouds cumulate
enraged emotions ejaculate
belittling bellows balk.

crying, cool, creepy. 

Hands gripped on the wheel
and my heart.
Eyes on the road
never on the goal.
Burning gas and burning time.
Coffee, tea, Swisher Sweets, and the grind. 

    Hello

is so much easier than goodbye.
It doesn’t take a fucking poet to figure out why.
She needs me, I’ll take the pain, accept the crying.
Nothing concerns me, not the eye-rolls not the sighs.

I start my ignition,

to do it all again.  

 

 

I’ll Carry You

When you can’t feel your hands,
when you can’t weather the storm.
I’ll Carry You,
back into familiar lands,
back into the warmth.

When your legs tremble,
when you cannot stand on your own
I’ll Carry You
until your strength assembles
and your name the world fears
and your name the world knows.

Yes, I’ll Carry You
when you’re yellow, when you’re green and when you’re blue.
When you’re healthy, when you’re sick,
when you’re ornery, when you’re ticked,
I’ll Still Carry You,
It starts with an “I Do”.

But much like my gold,
I’ll get spent, I’ll grow old.
I’ll Carry You
with a broken back, one knee
and a smiling face.
Like Depends, my bladder might be a maybe
I’ll Still Carry You

Much like this song,
soon I’ll be gone.
I’ll Still Carry You
when I’m laid to rest,
do not fear, do not fret.
I’ll Carry You
through our daughters and our sons
in my arms, in your love.

I’ll sit with St. Pete,
He’ll lean into me.
He’ll ask, “how did you get through life?”
I’ll say, “If I can bum a smoke and light,
I’ll tell you it’s alright.
You know what? It was kinda easy.
Because I had a great woman,

who carried me.

Large Richard

The bartender gave me his most sorrowful look as I limped to the bar.

He already knew what I wanted but went through the motions, perhaps out of pity, to ask anyway.

“What’ll it be?”

“Two beers.”

“That’s one for you and one for your friend over there?”

“Yeah.”

My hands wrapped tightly around the brews and I trudged back to my booth. I tried to prolong the trip back to him as much as I could stretch it. I wish I could just walk out the door and go home.

“Got the suds?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw, yeah!”

Nearly three-quarters of Richard’s beer was gone in one greedy slurp.

“You’re welcome.”

“About time, man. I was dying over here.”

“How much longer do we have to stick around here for?”

“Until I feel like leaving. That gon’ be a problem?”

I stared at Richard. I stared right through his fat face and into his shriveled soul.

“No.”

“Good,” Richard laughed. “Try to lighten up, would you? You asked me to hang with you, not the other way around. You used to literally drag me here.”

Richard slurped the last of his beer and gave me a “friendly” slap on the back that knocked the wind out of me. He was a large man and becoming less aware of his strength as he continued to feed beers into gullet at my expense. God, I hate this dude.

“Hey, Rich. I think that I’m gonna go hit the dancefloor, see if we can maybe find some women to hang out with tonight for once.”

“You think you’re gonna find a skirt, do you? By all means, then, Casablanca.”

I opened my mouth to correct him but decided against it. What would be the point? I sauntered towards the dancefloor and boldly hung out on the outside of the crowded throng.

As I awkwardly picked the label off of my beer bottle and did my best to stay out of Richard’s sight I could have sworn that I had heard someone speaking to me.

“Hello? I’m speaking to you!”

I recoiled in both the amazement that someone was talking to me at a bar and that someone was the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen.

“Y-yeah?” I sputtered.

“Is that your friend over there? The big guy?”

Of course.

“I know him. Why?”

The instant that my sentence was over my face met a lukewarm and sticky assault. I could taste the lime and cranberry as her cosmopolitan dripped down my face and onto my shirt.

“If you or that pig ever comes near one of my friends again we are pressing charges. Last chance, perverts!”

She stormed off and I was left standing with a drink on my face, no money in my wallet, and alone in a room full of strangers. The only thing that I had was the lesson that I had learned: finding women at the bar scene does not work better if you have a Big Dick.

A Bright Man.

I don’t follow the newest news.
I don’t know how to say no.
I may not be a bright man,
but I do have some light, man.

How can I be well-read
without and good-reads?
How can I be a leader
and not tell another where to be led?

Is that a revelation?
The word reveals nothing, much ado.
Is that a revolution?
The world doesn’t revolve around you.
Is that evolution?
Stagnation loves having nothing to do.

Change takes time
But we take no time to change.

 

A Family of Roaches

I stroll through barren alleys and cracked cement,
unheard to me are the pleas of the roaches.

A titanic shadow approaches from above.
The end is near.
Sick in disease, they are, with a sickening disease.
They repulse mice, they repulse fleas.
The men welcome death.
The women have done their best to flee.
In inactivity, they wait to die.
In captivity, they say goodbye,
to pay the respects that they never had.

What am I to do
When I look down on my shoe?
I see a brother, a predator, a pest,
a life with no chance.
I shrug, and I stroll
for it is only a family of roaches.