Maybe if he …


I wish I could write about your love.
I wish I could tell the story of how we fucked it up.
I wish you believed in second chances
The way I believe fate
Believes in us.
I don’t guess you do.
I guess that’s fair.
So I scribble our story in the sand.
I watch the waves wash it away
But they never take it
Far enough to rip it from my soul.
Maybe it’s good.
Maybe it’ll make for a damn fine death
When the water finally
Rips it away
And we realize we were meant
As more than “maybe if he” and “maybe if she”.
Maybe that’s the talisman,
The good in failed meant to be.
So we carry it,
Like we carry one another,
A secret too good to be true,
Too bad to relive,
Too sad to see those two …
Always losing themselves
In each others eyes.
Maybe that’s the talisman,
The good in failed meant to be.



Suddenly Is All We’ll Ever Be


Suddenly is all we ever were.
Suddenly friends, lovers, soul mates.
Suddenly alone in the night and in our fight.
We always said “you and me”,
Two against the world.
But the world kept spinning
While our story crumbled between our fingers.
Suddenly I’m lost
In your eyes and smile.
Suddenly I can’t breathe when you look at me.
Suddenly is all we’ll ever be.
Spinning, spinning and we all fall down.

There’s lovely poetry at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch this week, go check it out


It’s that time again!

Prompt – Present

Music – Pete Rock – Petestrumentals

Are you present?


Are we ever really?

This week has me wondering when the last time I really sat down and chose to be present in the moment was.

And what did it teach me?

Have you ever tried it?

Through meditation?

The hardest thing about meditation for me at first was clearing my mind.

It’s amazing how hard that can be.

We all have moments where we zone out and I guess sometimes we like to think of that as clearing the mind but it’s not really is it?

In my case I’m zoning out because there’s something very much there, standing heavy on my mind.

Definitely not clear.

I remember one of the techniques I learned was to think in images, not words, then clear those images away.

Put them away into boxes or whatever so that you can clear that space in your mind.

Do you know how hard it is to make a conscious effort to think without words?

It’s harder than you’d imagine it’d be.

Once you get better at it you’re supposed to be able to take this practice into daily life.

You can meditate while doing the most under appreciated things like walking or eating …

Concentrate on your step, how your foot hits the ground and moves you forward.

Do you really want to move forward?

What are you walking away from?


What about your food, what does it taste like?

Hopefully not cheap corrugated plastic.

Do you remember the eyes of the person you love?

The exact way the colors of their iris flow into each other?

Or the way their eyes squint and the skin creases at the corners when they laugh.

How about their smile?

When they’re staring off into space, zoned out, and smiling to themselves,

Do you remember the way their lips curve?

How about the feel of their hand in yours?

Or their arms around you?

Do you remember the way their hair smells when you have them pulled close?

Time’s up.

Silly Questions

WordPress Daily Prompt – Sympathize

I smelled it before I saw it.

“Well, shit.” Of course it was pouring and my umbrella was in the car. Fat droplets splattered the ground, exploding on impact. Each a little crime scene that would evaporate within the hour only to come storming down again.

Do I have to leave? The only appropriate answer was yes. I forgot enough appointments with my counselor; neither of us wanted the “hey, I thought we had a meeting …” voicemail.

Like an answer to my unspoken calls, beams of sunlight pierced through the clouds and the rain screeched to a stop.

“Now or never.”

Even the universe has a sense of humor.

I was 15 steps from the buildings main door, under the huge oak tree, when the clouds clamped shut over the sun and resumed their downpour.


I stood hostage to the rain, staring out into the parking lot. How many steps to my car? I was parked at the back of the lot so … well math is hard but the answer was a lot. The oak tree could only shield me so much, even its branches were beginning to give way to the strength of the rain drops.

“I have to go, it’s only going to get worse.” It’s only going to get worse. I let the words bounce around in my mind. Lately it seemed that everything only got worse.

Maybe I was paying some karmic debt for kicking puppies in a past life. I still wasn’t sure.

Ok, one foot in front of the other, only way out.

The clouds pelted me with lukewarm bombs.

Oh, this fucking sucks.

I thought I would want to run. I was sure I would want to get from underneath the oak to my car as quickly as humanly, or inhumanly, possible.

Instead I stood frozen under the pouring rain.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe, if this was the worst it could be, it wasn’t so bad.

Can rain sympathize with a broken soul? Can it wash away that which threatens to tear us apart?

I let the water pool in my hand. What silly questions.

But still, I’m just crazy enough to stand out here in the rain.

There are new posts for you over at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch!

I Gave My Soul to a New Religion … 16 – 21/365

Pictures to catch me up on “picture a day”. I should start calling it picture dump to catch me up. We all know I love music. I’ve been feeling down and having a hard time lately so this weekend I hopped around to a couple of cities to visit my favorite soul surgeons.

Leah Shapiro , drummer for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Robert Levon Been, bass (and all the instruments also) of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Peter Hayes, guitar (and all kinds of other instruments) of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

These guys were the opening band, The Night Beats. Lovely way to open the shows. In Houston the bassist’s mom came up and got on the rail with us. She couldn’t stop gushing about how adorable her son was on stage. That’s support man

I went to two cities, Houston and New Orleans. Other than my pictures of the show in Houston I didn’t really take many others. I just didn’t find as much that captivated me.

New Orleans … that’s going to be it’s own post because it’s one of my favorite US cities (with the exception of the band pictures, BRMC pics above are the New Orleans show).



I’ve got a bucket full of memories.
I spill from my deepest estuaries.
Like blood from fresh cuts,
Across the beds of my fingers,
Driving down to my thighs
Where the rivers run deeper
And the water bleeds darker.
My bucket fills with hazy days,
Dark specters and figures
Blending with the nightly shadows,
Caressing the darkest pieces
Just beyond the noise.
You bring me silence.
You bring me quiet.
You build dams to my scars;
Stopping the flow to my bucket of hell.
I’ve never found one like you before,
A soul that beats so close to mine.
Your blood flows darker,
Through this bucket of mine.
You touch the chaos,
No fear etched across your face.
You try to take it all away,
Try to steal my bucket of time.