Open Mic at Art6 Gallery

Open Mic at Art6 Gallery

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

She Can Still Dream

I can tell in her voice
she wants more for her life.
Right now she is the
faithful wife and
loving mother that
she feels she needs to be.

But I know her all too well.
I know there’s a side to her
that wants to let loose,
a side that wants to express
with reckless abandon
and without boundaries.

But I know her all too well.
There’s always been a thing
or things that kept her from
going all out with her emotions,
letting go of inhibitions,
and being every bit of the woman

that she desires to be.
But there’s a hint of resignation
in her voice that says
the days of the reckless abandon
and the letting loose
may be just a thing of the past,

something only she can pass on
to her children, hoping they will
live with the ability of
chasing their own destinies with
reckless abandon and
without inhibitions.

Maybe then she can see in their eyes
the light that still shines in hers
and that no matter how
much time and circumstance says
where her place is supposed to be,
she can still dream.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011


I told her,
"I don't do tacky."
She looked at me with
a sense of shock
with a little bit of confusion
mixed in.  I guess she
couldn't understand how
I could say such a thing.
Everyone got the memo
about the fun and frolicky event of
the office wearing their Christmas worst
and she was willing to participate
with her "tacky"
snowman-and-Santa sweater.
The merry tribe of men and women
took pride in what they pulled
from the back of the closet to
wear in front of each other,
even taking pictures of
this awful array of attire.
But for me,
I don't do "tacky".
It's not part of my wardrobe
or my vocabulary.
They can keep that tradition.
I'm going to look good
during the holidays.

Friday, December 9, 2011

No Chance

I should've known better
but it took reading
her blogs to realize
I never had a chance.

I don't know who he was
or how long they dated,
but he must've done
something drastic to make her

sit guarded and defiant,
determined to never
be hurt again,
determined that the next man

had to meet her mandates
and follow her directions.
I should've known
I never had a chance.

But what man can know?
She laughs and smiles
and enjoys life as if
her world is an open book.

But within her happiness
lies a fortress that
guards her heart and
flies red flags at the sight

of any man that approaches.
Now I know and I'm fearful
the others may feel like me.
There's no chance.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

She Doesn't Date

She told me
she didn't believe in dating,
didn't believe in the whole
"boyfriend and girlfriend" thing.
that it was too much about
being "exclusive" and
being about"ownership"
and we're not meant for that.
She had been
in relationships before
and felt she gave up
too much of herself.
So now she takes this stance:

No more dates.
No more intimacy.

To her,
we are all God's children,
brothers and sisters in His eyes
and you just couldn't
date your siblings.
Many would say she is unusual,
maybe even strange,
but definitely not like the others,
those who try to fashion affairs
with a sense of idealism,
hoping their mates fit neatly
into the dreams they fashion.

But there's no need for
idealism or dreams.
She meets people in the now,
treating them all the same.
So if you can,
get "a date" out of your mind.
Enjoy the outing,
enjoy the time,
enjoy the conversation,
and enjoy being with her.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

A Poem Heading Nowhere

What's next?
Another dream about her sex?
Another lingering reminder of her that
makes me as blue as worn jeans?

I should know by now
these thoughts of her
no longer bring me joy,
these thoughts only lead me

endlessly migrating toward nothing.

Once again I find myself
hopelessly thinking that
this time I can reveal the sacred message
of what we could've shared.

And once again,
this dreamer becomes the fool
as areas of this dream's emphasis
keeps fading away

until it vanishes into thin air
and no matter how hard
I chase after them
my legs can't go fast enough,

running and running until
I'm left in the middle of
a vast field of emptiness
as my dream of her ends

and reality of my solitude resumes
with a page staring at me,
showing only the words of
a poem that is now heading


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Single Life

I heard a guy say once that being single was not all that it was cracked up to be; that it was nothing more than Web surfing and TV watching.  I had to laugh at that because I thought it was not only funny, but untrue.  I'm still single and I had never experienced that kind of low feeling....

until last Friday night when I found myself with nothing to do but watch TV and surf the Web.  This scene was not a laughing matter anymore.  In fact, I was bored to tears.  Going through the same sites over and over again and with nothing on the tube, I was a rather dull (and single) person.

My friend called me later that night and before even saying hello asked, "Why aren't you on a hot date?"  That sounded like a good question, but I also know that "hot date" and living in the suburbs don't really go together.  Say "hot date" around here and you'll scare people.  People go on "first dates" or "casual dates" or "dinner dates", but not "hot dates".  I think those are only for "Sex And The City" episodes and I'm pretty sure none of those four women live anywhere near me.  Plus, as much as women LOVED watching that show, not many would have the guts to live their lives like that. 

The last "hot date" I had was with a fellow writer who loved to talk about what was happening in the city, loved cooking and wine, and loved to make love to me.  She was the type I enjoyed connecting with on all levels and I thought things would go much further....

until she broke things off, claiming it was a matter of "feelings".  The "feelings" for the altar that she just missed out on with her previous ex.  The "feelings" of being introduced in social circles as "his wife".  The "feelings" that she didn't feel with me.  I tried to let it not affect me and accept it as one of those things that happen.  But I realized that that was about as close to an organic feeling of connection that I had ever experienced and I hadn't seen anything like that since. 

Dating has now become like a child's puzzle game where only square pegs are allowed to fit into square holes.  People place down their likes and dislikes almost as if it were a personal credo and no one is allowed to get close unless they meet specific criteria.  No one meets for the sake of meeting anymore.

And so I'll be still here, trying not to get stuck in that rut anymore.  But it may be inevitable.  At least the Web and TV can temporarily help me forget I'm sitting at home all alone for another night.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

About A Girl I Liked

My dreams are all about her sex,
and these little happenings
no longer bring me joy.
I'm as blue as worn jeans
as I find my thoughts
endlessly migrate toward nothing.
I wish I could tell
the story of a sacred message
of what we could've shared
but it keeps fading away
and no matter how hard I chase,
my legs can't go fast enough.
Lover, lover, you treat me wrong.
You should've been here all along,
and now the words
I tried to write about you
have become nothing more than
a poem heading nowhere.

Friday, October 14, 2011

My First Non-Poem Entry

I actually thought about starting a second blog just for entries like this.  There was a part of me that wanted to separate the poet part of me from the writer part of me.  But after thinking about it, I realized I didn't need to do that.  Honestly, I just write.  I don't have any real plans of what I'm going to write or in what format it will be in.  Like the Nike ad campaign, I just do it.

But this past week made me realize just how hard at times it is to just do it.  This past weekend I attended a wonderful James River Writers Conference.  I learned a lot about writing and writers, met many wonderful people, and was really fired up to write like crazy.  However, the week has brought many reminders that the world outside of the writing community doesn't share my viewpoints.  My church has been clamoring even more so to be more involved in activities and committees.  My people at my job made sure to remind me just how much I was missed on Friday because to them, things just don't operate the same with me in my department.  It just makes me feel that some can only see me within a certain capacity or vision.  That's why I enjoy to write.  It is the antithesis of these things.  I can create and talk about whatever I want and however I want.

This will always be something that I will have to fight.  But it's a fight worth having and a fight worth winning.  Because in the end, something good will come out of my writing.

Stay tuned to find out.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Memo to Self

The conference ends
and real life begins
a letter waiting for me
in the mailbox.
I forgot I had
committed to being in
Advent services in December.
I thought I would
just be reading something.
Now they're showing me
as an "actor",
playing out a scene,
maybe even wearing a stupid costume.
Soon the leader will be saying
I'm one of them,
part of her Drama team.

Memo to self:
Nip this at the bud
right after you say your last line.
You need to write.

The conference ends
and real life begins
Monday morning.
Back to the grind.
Back to the office space
that I inhabit 40 hours a week.
No one says, "Welcome back."
They all say, "You were sorely missed."
Hard work is my Catch-22,
do a good job and
no one wants me to leave.
I still say they
cost me a promotion.

Memo to self:
Don't forget your vision
is bigger than theirs.
You need to write.

The conference ends
and real life begins.
The fires of creativity
are still burning bright,
but the everyday keeps
pulling for my attention,
wanting me to join their groups
and not just for the temporary
time period.  But they
haven't read the memos,
the memos I keep writing
to myself as a reminder
about what's possible,
the memos that tell me
the one thing that has
to stay paramount on my mind.

You need to write.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Church Service

Church just wouldn't be church
without thngs bring done at the last minute.
It proved true once again
as I heard the joy in the voice
of the Homecoming Committee chair
when I agreed to be in the program.
I know how these things work.
It's a "call who you know
and pray to God they say yes" method.
and so I got the call
with the chair praying to God I say yes.
And I reluctantly did say yes
because I know
church just wouldn't be church
without that long standing tradition
of Homecoming,
singing the same songs,
praying the same prayers,
reading the same verses,
and going through the same program
all because it's been done
time and time again,
the way that our parents and grandparents
did it before.
But sometimes the younger generation
may not want that all of the time
and they'll fidget through another service
wishing to be somewhere else.
As for me,
I've been called to do my part
and I'll be there for Homecoming because
church just wouldn't be church
without member participation.


It's not being Worship Leader during Homecoming that bothers me.
It's being a part of tradition that does.
Tradition says we follow the same path as we have gone before,
honor our forefathers and continue their practices,
sing their songs and pray their prayers,
and teach the young the same things so
they can continue on the same road.
But tradition also shows that there
are no left and right-hand turns,
no need for maps or navigational tools,
just stay on the road
and never get off.
But for the sake of my restless being
and this insatiable desire of mine to release
the multitude of words and ideas screaming inside me,
I need to go another route.
Not because I don't respect and appreciate
what tradition has meant along the way,
but because I know what tradition can do to people,
especially the minds of those who march
with a different cadence.
Tradition wants them to put their drums down
and sit passively and obediently,
following along to what's been dictated
as tried and true
all the while watching the new day
leave everyone behind in the dust.
So I'll do my part and participate on this day
but my stay will not be a long one
for once I leave and head along my way,
I'm back to swimming in the seas
of new and expansive horizons.


Somebody will probably
bitch until high heaven
knowing that order
has been upset.

It's only a week, people.

Maybe things won't work
at a world record pace,
but work will go on.
Maybe it'll go a
bit slower and a
little less perfect.

But stay calm.

All of your deadlines will be met,
you submittals will go out,
and the office
I'm sure will still be a happy place.

So I'll see you in a week.

And by the way,
don't bother calling.
I won't be answering.

Class Attendance

The pause always told me
the teacher was about to call my name.
And there I was
in the back of the class
assigned to the last desk
of the last row
waiting to see if
this teacher just might be able
to get my name right.
The pause continued
for what felt like a lifetime
and then
I couldn't wait any longer
"It's Wildy, ma'am.
Then the pause emerged once more
as she registered in her head
how I pronouced my name.
"Wildy?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," I replied.
She noted it in the attendance book
and continued on.
School is now in session.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Can Men And Women Be Close Friends?

Her message was loud and clear:
Keep your distance.
We're just friends.

I guess now getting to
know women should come
with a warning label.

or maybe I'll just wear
yellow tape on my body
to indicate that I could be

dangerous because of
the scant chance I may
want to know more.

Or maybe I'll just
go out in the world
inside a bubble,

keeping me a safe distance
away from any contact.
Because I'm finding

getting too close
may be bad for
my health.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Driving Through A Relationship

You said
we don't talk like we used to.
I say
you're absolutely right.
The subjects have been exhaused
and this is not NASCAR;
I don't feel like
going around in circles.
Say what you will
but don't pin the blame on me
because the summer's almost over
and you're not having any fun.
Communication is a two way affair
and last I checked,
the art of initiation
is not a male-dominated activity.
Here's a newsflash:
I'm not chasing after you.
I've got places to go,
people to see,
and things to do.
You're more than welcome
to join along and then
we could do something
that interests you.
But if all this is
is a one-way street,
then I'm going to turn off now
and get on the highway.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


I spend too many days
conjuring up artificial
forms of relationships.
They keep me occupied
during bouts of loneliness
when I wish somebody
was around.
I reside in a world
of words and sometimes
trying to reach out for
a sense of human contact
becomes a futile effort,
so I sit away
lonely and dejected.
In these moments,
my creative energies form
these relationships, people
both familiar and unknown,
occupants all within
my mental landscape.
But man cannot live
by dreams alone and
that keeps me restless
for the artificial cannot
sustain the real.

Thursday, July 21, 2011


She said she wanted to help me,
but the only thing I could think of
was to find a time and place
to shut out the people in our lives
and sort through our details.
We started writing our story
many years ago
but we left it unfinished.
She said to just leave things be
and move forward being friends.

But this doesn't help me.

It still leaves me tormented,
looking for answers
that could close all the chapters.
This could've been a great story
if we had known what we were feeling
and had the guts to keep going.
But real life has pushed us to a point
where happily ever after
is just wishful thinking.
Maybe now she can help me
finish writing our story of
going from what was
to what is.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

First Date

I realized after burning
a triple digit hole in my wallet
that all I need to know about her
is that she only likes
to sing silly little pop songs.
I can do the same things,
but rhetoric starts to run thin
when the music stops.
I don't want to
jump up and down mindlessly
to rhythms that don't inspire.
Give me something with a
slower and sophisticated tempo,
something that makes two people
draw closer and sway as one
and in the end,
it's probably a hell of a lot cheaper
to do as well.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011


Maybe I've read too many stories
about complex men and
how they try to live their lives.
They carry a knowledge that
life and love and sex
have to be taken on a dare.
And they dare
despite the possibility
being disappointed in the end.
But where I reside,
one can't live like that.
The surroundings just wouldn't understand.
Too many people already have
chiseled away their complexities
so they can fit neatly
into square pegs.
Anything else is looked at
with suspicsion and scorn.
That's where I reside,
a place of conformity,
a place where "compelling"
is manufactured into an hour long TV drama.
"Compelling" and "intriguing" can instead
scare the bejesus out of people
when witnessed up close.
So maybe in my quest to keep
complexity in my life,
to keep the many sides of me
active and living,
I may have to walk alone,
to live and love and make love,
as a dare to the prospects
of maybe being
disappointed in the end.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011


"Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative"
-Oscar Wilde

The air is stagnant all around.
We follow the same routines
day in and day out.
We talk of the same topics
around the same time
with the same type of inflection.
I breathe this air as a
normal person would.
But I know I'm not normal
(or at least I try not to be).
I know I'm capable of more.
I could set the world on fire
if I could find my way
to some cleaner air.

But I find no one else around me
feels the same way,
almost as if contentment
is the elixir of choice.
Why push the envelope when
everything in the neighborhood
is peaceful?
I just can't find that same peace
sitting in my cubicle
or staring out of my window
or milling about in the open.
I can keep the same pace in my sleep.
There's no challenge there.

Where's my parade?
Where's my award presentation?
Where's my pretty group of women
ogling over my presence?
I figured that if I can
perform this task of keeping
my levels of extraordinary down
and my level of consistency up,
I should get some type of
reward or recognition.
But none of these things
will ever be present.
There is but one thing that is encouraged.

Keep going.

Just keep going on.
Keep doing it over and over again,
day after day
and maybe they'll let me
perform the same tasks
over and over again
day after day.
It's not about aspirations and dreams
of upward movement and corner offices.
Those things are now considered
outside interferences.
Trying to maintain
is the only order of the day.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Workday Traffic

Sometimes I forget
I can only go as fast
as the car in front of me,
joining in with the
multitude of motorists
heading along the roadway,
going to wherever their
daily location dictates.
I'm here
driving right along with them
in a mass of repetition.
Some would say
this is a good thing,
but being caught behind and beside
some of these drivers who choose
to go under the speed limit
and staring straight ahead,
unaware of what's surrounding them
sometimes drives me
up a proverbial wall.
I want to go faster.
I want to get to where I need to be
and get out of this mess,
out of this monotomy,
out of this road
which is making me as dull as
the driver next to me.
But the thought passes by
as I finally reach my exit,
finally able to drive
with a little bit of space to myself
and just a little bit closer
to where I need to be.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Just A Friend

She's told me about
every man that's gone to bed with her.
That in itself should tell me
I don't stand a chance.

Sometimes I think
she doesn't even see me as a man,
that somehow I've become
a sounding board to help her

figure out her problems
and her confusions, never to be
more than that.  And all this time
I've been happy to oblige.

But last night as I lay
in an empty bed, waking up
to find myself clutching
a pillow to fill my empty arms,

I realized that being a human diary
doesn't fulfill my own needs
and worrying about her future
is doing harm to mine.

So let me step away for now
and let her figure things out.
I need to lose myself in someone else,
a lover who'll fill up my essence.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Let's Hang Out

It's not a marriage proposal.
All this is
is me asking you
to spend some time together
and watch the world go 'round.

There's no agenda here.
You're interesting
and I'd like to know more
about who you are
and what you're thinking.

So let's hang out
and not worry about
what will happen tomorrow.
Let's chat a while
and enjoy each other's company.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Happy at Work?

If people knew what I was thinking
at exactly 10:00 on this Wednesday morning,
they would say that I'm crazy.
They would say that the thoughts in my head
need to immediately leave my thinking
because in this American landscape
I'm in a good place.

But staring out of my window
at exactly 10:00 on this Wednesday morning,
I feel like I'm slowly dying,
the juices within me are stagnant
as I perform my daily tasks
from this corner office
one more time.

I guess I should be happy where I am,
happy that in this American landscape
of job loss and company realignment,
of bigwigs saving theirs by taking from others.
Happy that I'm not of the casualties,
one of the stories of the dream
and how it came crashing down.

But this day and this hour
is just one of those times where
I just don't feel the love
and right now I need to feel the love
because sitting in this corner office
at this hour and at this day
I feel alone.

I'm not happy right now
and I know the paycheck that I'll get
won't help much either
because life is more than dollars and cents.
What's the point of
having dollars and cents
if you feel like you're losing all other sense?

Friday, April 29, 2011


I tried to go it alone
and forge my own path
but it never felt like home.
It was simply a place
to put my things
and lay my head.
There was no warmth there
and it showed on my weary face.
But then I found home.
It welcomed me in
with open arms and it
washed me clean with its love.
It fed me nourishing food
and it gave me a place to rest.
Now that worn and weary face
resides no more in the mirror.
Instead the mirror reflects
hope and optimism.
Home brought it all back
and now it's home
that sends me back out into the world
to go on another day.

When I Think of You

When I think of you,
I think of rays of sunshine
because your smile warms me
like a summer day.
I see your cheery manners
and it radiates within me
and it makes me feel good.

When I think of you,
I look up at the sars
and I know your eyes
can outshine them all.
Sometimes I wonder if
the constellations ever get jealous
of your beauty.

When I think of you,
I cry just a little
because I miss you so much.
You are so far away
so I keep your memory
fresh in my mind
until we meet again.


I open my mind
and shut off the world
to find my corner of the sky
because I need to find a place
where my spirit can run free.
This world holds me down
with so many rules,
both written and unwritten.
It tells me all about my place
that I'm assigned to occupy.
But today I'm selfish.
I want my own joy.
So I come to this haven
where I can be what I want
and go where I want
and do what I want.
In this place
nothing is impossible.
It's so beautiful here.
I just wish I could
bring this back to my reality.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

No Dreams For The Dreamer

There will be no more dreams for the dreamer
for none of his dreams have come true.
Now emptiness has engulfed the dreamer
as he wonders what else he can do.

His dreams of hope have turned to heartache.
His dreams of joy have turned to pain.
His dreams of love have turned to heartbreak
and the rest have gone down the drain.

The dreamer has nothing to hold on to
but the pillow where lays his head.
Everything else that resided in his dream world
has shriveled up and gone dead.

What do we do for the dreamer now
to give him a boost and help him along?
Who has a kind word to cheer him up somehow
and who can sing him a happy song?

For if there are no more dreams for the dreamer
then that we all doomed to fall
because if hope is lost for the dreamer
then there is nothing but lost hope for us all.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Degree of Separation

Here we are
in this degree of separation.
We used to be so close
but now we are so far apart.
Do you remember the time
when we walked arm in arm,
when we stood side by side,
and nothing else mattered?
Those were the best times of our lives.
Now everything has changed.
Time and circumstance
has pushed us apart
and sometimes I feel
we cannot stand together
despite the past we share
and I know that wishing
the past to return is a
fruitless endeavor.
So here we are
moving further and further apart
and all either of us can do
is wave goodbye.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Transition (Last Visit)

Easter morning
Dad told me
Grandmother was in transition.

The doctor had said earlier
she could be kept
alive with a feeding tube

but Dad had said no,
to let nature
take its course.

So after church
the family went to see
Grandmother once more.

She lay in bed
unable to speak and
unable to lie still,

trying to turn over
but with nowhere to turn.
The room stayed silent

as we all just watched
her toss and turn,
open and close her lifeless eyes,

and reach for the bed rails
or thin air or
something we knew

nothing about.  We didn't
stay too long, but it was
long enough to see

the beginning of the end,
transition from life into
death.  It would be the

last time, this I knew well.
But before we left, we all
got to say goodbye.

Sunday, April 24, 2011


O happy day! He
is risen!  Let the whole world
sing Hallelujah!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Past Love

It all came back in
a flash. How I used to love
you. The pleasure then

brings me agony
in the present, agony
of reopened wounds

that never really
healed. They were simply holes that
lingered without care.

But you came along
back into my life and now
I know just how much

I loved you. But we
can't go back and pick up where we
left off. We have to

move on painfully
into the future as friends.
But all I ask is

this. May I have just
one final kiss goodbye and
then we can go on

and laugh and smile and
remember how things were and
smile at tomorrow.


Don't tease me.
Don't show me
you were thinking about
taking a route here
instead of going home.

Don't tease me.
You know you and I
have got a thing going.
So let's do something
to get things going.

The picture was
tempting enough. Now
the though of you
thinking of me
is tempting me more.

Tempting me to want you
more than ever, to have you
here and be the lover
you dream of. Just break away
and make things real.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Love Unfulfilled

Lovers reunite
too late to restart their affair.
Sadly their chance missed.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Dreaming About Her

It's a pointless endeavor
dreaming about her.
It's only making me feel
more alone than ever.

Maybe it's not her
that I want, but rather
something different than
the single suburbanites

who have nothing to
talk about except work
and weekend shopping trips
and prevouis bad dates.

They want it all
but the dreams are too simple
and they want the man
of their dreams the same way.

But her, oh her.
You can hear her smarts.
You can feel her emotions.
You can sense her sensualities.

I dream a lot about her,
probably too much.
But it's always the good ones
that a man never forgets.

But it's always the good ones
that are already spoken for
and so there I am,
pressed against the glass

watching inside and
wishing for something
that cannot be, caught in
a longing that some folks

would call a sin.  I guess
for now I'll be that sinner
until I can figure how to
turn around and walk away,

finding some sense of comfort
in my solitude until someone
else who can be available
and bless me with her presence.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Voices in my sleep keep me from rest.
These voices speak to me
in all kinds of tones.
Some say I'm good.
Some say I'm just OK.
Some say I suck.
Now in my restlessness
I wonder which one is right.
They all seem to make
very reasonable arguments.
Maybe they're all right.
Maybe they're all wrong.
Maybe I just need to sleep.
But in my head
dreams keep coming up
showing me in all kinds of situations.
I do good,
I do bad,
I live,
and I even die.
It keeps me running
as I toss and turn in my bed.
The minutes tick by
and each one feels like a lifetime.
I try to sleep
but then I awake
and I look at the clock
watching it move
from one minute to the next.
I need to sleep
because tomorrow is approaching.
But these dreams of mine
keep taking up all of my time.
I want to rest
but I'm way too involved.
Are my dreams
trying to tell me something?
Are they
trying to take me somewhere?
I don't know.
I'm trying to decipher them.

But damn,
my alarm just went off.
Tomorrow is here.
Time to get up.

Monday, April 18, 2011


Dad said
Grandmother was not well
and I needed to see her.

So he and I went to
the nursing home
where she now resides.

She lay in bed
feeling too weak to rise.
Her eyes wandered

toward the window
looking outward
at the sun before

looking at Dad and I.
She wanted to speak
but words didn't come

out and soon after,
she fell asleep.  I watched
Dad take a seat next

to her bed and I sat
at the foot and we watched
her rest.  She looked

tired and weary. Dad said
she had an infection and
was dehydrated.  We talked

about other stuff as she slept
for there was nothing
either of us could say

to her now.  Dad and I,
son and grandson
just watch over her.

I Couldn't Resist

I couldn't resist.

I just couldn't help myself.

I told myself I would not call
and I would not text
and I would walk away
because I hadn't heard from her
and part of me
didn't want to hear from her
out of fear that
I would break down and want her
in my bed once again
because I was tired of it
being empty.

But I couldn't resist.

Her number was still
in my cell phone directory.
It was the first number in the list
and the only number present
with a previous contact.
And so I typed it in
and typed in my text.
Nothing major or mushy,
just a simple hello
just to see how she was.

I couldn't resist.

She texted me back.
She said things were fine.
I tried to ask about
if anything new was going on.
She said
she was seeing someone.
That's what is new
and it's not me.
I deserved that and so
I wished her well,
ending the conversation
regretting I did
start one in the first place.

But I couldn't resist.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Saturday Weather

Nature is intense.
It can destroy just as it
can create beauty.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Dreams and Reality

Some people realize
while the rest just dream
of what it is
to realize.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Painter

The painter stands
in a freeze frame
checking the angles
within her imagination
to see what to
put on the canvas.
She thinks over and over
where the paintbrush
needs to lay next.
The room is silent
as she ponders her move.
Then she's off
moving, moving, moving!
The paint flies
as the brush moves with precision.
She's in a zone now,
going into motion
forgetting about time,
about space,
about the world
until she has what she wants,
her imagination realized
on her now colorful canvas.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


Why do I feel like
I've been here before?
The panels on the walls,
the grains on the ceilings,
and even the strands in the carpet
all look the same.
I try to kid myself,
but my realistic mind
just won't fall for false optimism.
I cannot deny it.
I am at the same position again.
Should I laugh or cry?
That's all I have to choose from.
But why choose?
Somehow I'll be back
to this point again
once I leave for my life
seems to be going in circles
and I can only pray
that this spinning will stop.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Are You Happy Now

I heard from a coworker that they saw you.
It had been forever since you've
shown up at our office.
You told her you gave birth
to a daughter over a year ago.
Congratulations, Mother.

Are you happy now?

I take it you made everything
work out with him, the same man
who you were once afraid of, the same man
who couldn't control his anger.
You told me that you two
could work it all out in the end.

Are you happy now?
You've got it all now.
The man, the child, the job,
respected and loved by all.
I bet you came in with a grin
when you saw my coworker
after all this time.

So are you happy now?

I bet you didn't even
think of me. Don't you remember
we were friends?
We were friends.
Maybe time and aspirations
made you forget that.

So are you happy now?

I'm trying not to be hurt,
resentful, or bitter. You have
what you have and I'm
trying to do my own thing.
So be it. But if you can hear me,
I'd just like to ask one thing.

Are you happy now?

Monday, April 11, 2011


Spring is here and the
Grand Old Game is back.  Time for
a trip to the park.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Rain Check On Our Date

She called right before
I was about to get dressed.
Tonight all messed up.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


Sometimes I wish I
could fly.  Maybe that would make
her pay attention.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Cherry Blossoms in DC

Tree limbs hang over the walkways
as the cherry blossoms create
a floral archway for the world
to take in its beauty
as they walk through
and take pictures
and capture this moment,
this moment where these blooms
with the clear skyline and glowing sun
provide a natural masterpiece
that Nature can only provide.

Sunday, April 3, 2011


Tell me a secret.
Tell me something that the world
wouldn't know before,

something no one would
ever guess in a million
years.  Just let me know

something beyond your
cordial persona that you
normally present.

What hides behind those
eyes of yours?  What do you think
about in your mind?

So tell me what you
are, more than what the others
know I'll keep it

a secret.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

March Madness

It's that time of year
when spring is in the air
but people are holed up
in their houses like it's
the dead of winter,
when workplace productivity drops
as more eyes are on sports tickers
than the work at hand,
when talk about brackets fill the air
as fans and non-fans
try to figure out who will be
the winner of all of this.

It's that time of year.
Three weeks in March
where 94 feet of hardwood
plays host to one of the
greatest dramas known to man.
Household names and unknowns.
prohibitive favorites and Cinderellas,
young freshmen and grizzled veterans,
they all converge here
to this tournament they call
The Dance in this time they call
March Madness.

It's that time of year.
Imaginations are continually captured
as this spectacle unfolds
of game after game after game,
of elation and heartbreak,
of upsets happening all around,
of brackets being busted,
and of the field shrinking
round by round,
team by team,
until one finally stands alone on top as
National Champion.

It's that time of year.
Are you ready?

Friday, March 25, 2011


I didn't listen
to the voices in my head.
So now I sit alone
suffering in silence
because we belong together now.
It screams in my face
as a reminder
of recklessly reaching out
just to fill a void.

Friday, March 18, 2011

I'm back...again

Guess who forgot they had a blog opened years!!! Hopefully I can keep this thing up and give you guys good stuff. Stay tuned.