The Loneliest Person on Earth

You must be the loneliest person on earth.
And I will hold onto you for all you’re worth,
but I don’t think it will lift the curse.
You, the loneliest soul on earth.

You must have the stranglehold of a billion youth.
The world at your disposal, disposing you.
A voice that goes unheard.
Lonelier than the souls begging for truth.

You must hold up others while the leaders sleep.
Still able to look in the mirror, with graves dug deep.
Sparing a dying breath, the world once at your feet,
now, fading faster than innocence, with no relief.

Petitions and prayers, soldiers watching in far off lands,
Superpowers procure the wallets of the “self-made” man.
Inheriting the gravesites of dollars well spent,
poppy fields that go for miles on end.
Trails of dead, dollar signs where lives began.

You, the loneliest person on earth.

Rosegarden

I recall, in trees during Fall,
leaves settle on the lawn,
lonely at Rosegarden.
Some in decay, others stuck in the drain,
the pull and strain,
of a single union.
Two kids growing up together, unearthing moments.

Garage full of relics and a yard full of grass,
A tree house, round back, waiting patiently for visitors,
adored by future children.
Never old enough to know better.
Decaying tree limbs, burgeoning feelings
…too many reasons

Alter promises, distance held tight
In front of the TV, engaging sitcoms,
not one another, sofas further away each night.
You might as well have been on the moon.

The comfort of home.
Two strangers living alone.
Lost here on Rosegarden.
The leaves and grass mingle in the yard.
A “for sale” sign standing guard.

Walls

I want to make memories now, no time to waste.
I fell into your lap, seemed like the safest place.
Clocktowers and scopes targeting all our children’s hopes.
Beggars on the streets, American dream, inhabitants broke.
When all the world’s stage wrote us off as just a joke.
Walls built up, stripped bare, clenched fists
but we’re not getting out of here.
Marked for time, when young lives have been erased.
Those walls to hold people out are built to thwart our escape.
I want to make memories now,
there’s no time to waste.

Snowmen

I understand now why people get dogs.
And what do I really know of the great beyond?
Truth, bulldozing my path.
Pain, my sure-fire escape to a better life.

These years are sailing by
with little more than a trail in the sky.
I fall back into this so easy.
You made my mind stir, the house I built with twigs, the mind that waits until nightfall.

“Oh my..” she whispered,
the room went chill
my eyes went blind,
how I viewed myself
when i fell so far behind.

The snow in my palms, watching the children build forts, making snowmen– repelling adulthood.
The laughter of minds not yet spent, replacing the pain I feel in my head.
Its only temporary.
Not the first or the last.
This too shall pass,
with vigilance..
no regrets.

Victim Statement Editorial

Lay down, the past, underneath,
a crumbled blanket to sleep,
the sidewalk,
you pass quickly on the skyline,
things look better from a distance.
I’m on the other side, a hapless byline
in a ‘choose your own adventure’ book.
I’m watching you drift by-
no more “hello’s”,
niceties falling short, failing us,
the plight of children caught between.
They’ll be ok, kids always are, resilient, tactile,
raw emotions blanked out by playgrounds and Fruit Loops.

Somebody saw me in a crowd, alone,
Nothing even worthwhile
toddlers crowding the stage, lights and heat,
the burgeoning distance where no one can see
-a situation where every instinct let me down.
This auditorium couldn’t hold all my angst.
Angst. Just another word that = I feel sorry for myself.
How I disappointed, but never my intention.
My face blank, I see you and your paternal crutch
and mine, nowhere near here.

Thank god, at least I have a chance now.
I see your face, or faces, dependent on which mood,
weighed in, quality over quantity I guess.

Just stop glaring at me for once.
This isn’t a party for me either.
Despite how your mind grasps at straws
your painted fingernails chipped, resembling claws
and an array of scars
ripple across what’s left of my heart.
We have plenty of baggage for another trip,
let’s empty the contents into someone else’s life.

We’ll never be the same, I’m over here and you’re there
and it was never how it started, but where we left off.
This auditorium, filled with strangers,
filled with people, maybe I said “hi” to them once,
in an effort to relate.
But that’s a poor excuse
and not worth the wait.
Spanning 41 years, awkward smiles, and tears
just in private though.
I’d hate for you to see me as I am.

Troll along, who cares where you go-
the box will keep you neatly in bounds.
People Magazine, Starbucks and cashed in 401k’s.
Looks like a prison from here.
How did it end this way??
I remember.
I just got up and left.

…and me
somewhere in the back aisle,
wishing the whole place was gone.
or is it already ?
The emergency exit within a few sprints to the sidewalk.
Running away, running for my life
or just looking for the next victim.

What the Room looks like When you Leave

Someday you’ll understand.
Maybe I don’t.
I just know when you leave, I’m always back where I started.
The dim lights, shadows and creeping in the corners of the room,
always waiting & wanting.
The sunshine relents.

My boys look so innocent in this pose,
and I can’t replace the feelings of those close.
We’re all ghosts.

Someday you’ll understand– all the booze and loose women, no critics to laugh at you, you bonehead.
Just the sound of your own voice.
Laughter as medicine, haha, but that’s a joke.
That’s what life looked like, out the window and friends you had are ghosts too- in dreams, at the grocery store, maybe even that bar down the street.

But I don’t drink anymore, I don’t leave with strangers and I simply am no fun.
Someday you’ll understand.

One more seizure, one more pulse;
I am electric.
All my memories of this time
will dissolve into thin air…

They never quite disappear.