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.

19

Longest arc, I felt the slope first go downhill into some faraway land.
The streets seemed to go on forever, existence into memories.
Pale under the dark cover of night, bedtime stories, dormitories, this terrified boy now a man.
I still feel it, aching in my bones.
The love for sowing oats and no concern to return home.
I traded you, handed you around, let you off at the corner. Tossed the street urchins change and moved on.
Food carts, wrappers and cigarettes.
Simple child, simpler expectations, no regrets.
Fleeting chill in the air, easing my bones,
giving me back my childhood
and another night of rest.

Reclaim

I see your heart pulling away, or is it mine, it’s all the same.
The paint on a log, the multicolored rain. Or is this colorblind for me to find my way?
What was good for you, not ok for me too. Let this moment open a gateway to this half of a heart for me to break.
We are all habits to reclaim.

This hopeful scene plastered in a daydream, the truth, sordid and grey.
Sentiments of fallen ideals, less than real, manufactured in some false display- for you to reclaim.

All those concede, parts of you I didn’t want to see, not in line with my own faults
And the words we had shared, not past lives to bare- believe these moments as truth.

This mind is relentless, searching for heartache and sorrow well spent.
real people matter, feelings we all break.
Because birth to death is not easily explained
No more worry to project.

Swallowed up by the Earth

Is this how you imagined it, when you set out?

City streets, crossroads, seeking new faces.

They look the same, no longer strange, because everything has changed… Were there other plans to slip away?

And could you run, could you hide, or fathom an alternate life; with an ending that may have been written all along?

Its one hell of a ride. When it’s over, who decides? I can’t begin to imagine how you feel.

Just let go of the wheel.

Were there faces and names, broken engagements all written in flames, ashes trailing off in the sky. Sparing everyone else, to make them happy instead of yourself.

How well I play the victim.

Hideaway

I’m left here with just my thoughts, find myself, then start again
impossible to comprehend, the beginning, now the end
saw our stars collide, hold on, for the thrill of a lifetime
the sky where the moonlight finds, lonely stars- fell to the earth

And we had somewhere to go, where no one could find us
Exhaust the days until night, with our worlds divided

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.