Monthly Archives: May 2019

I Could

When I think of all the time

I spent alone

Because of you,

I can kick myself.

 

Time I spent thinking

You would come back to me.

You would see the error of your ways.

You would trust me

And forgive yourself.

 

But you didn’t.

And never will.

You have moved on

Not dealing with the pain

Of the past

But moving on to

A different metaphorical future

In a different literal location.

 

When I think of all the time

I have wasted in vain hope,

Thinking that something about me

Was worth the effort,

I could scream.

 

This one is all on me.

I couldn’t let go of

Your head resting on my shoulder,

A whisper telling me to go but begging me to stay,

The forever question in a darkened room.

 

I couldn’t let go

Long after it was gone

Couldn’t, can’t, won’t

Long after we were done

When I think of all the time

I have wasted,

I could laugh

If only, I could laugh.

 


The Soldier Memorial Day 2016

As he lay dying,

He didn’t think of his country.

He thought of his mother

And the tears she would shed

As she buried her only son.

She always told him

Take care of yourself, Albert.

Come home

To people that love you.

 

He did not think of the country he was giving his life for.

He did not think of the rhetoric of politicians.

He did not think that God wanted this war.

 

He thought of his girlfriend

The girl he loved since sixth grade

But only got up the nerve

To ask her out a year ago.

 

He thought of her smile

That was often followed by giddy laughter

In response to something silly he did.

He thought of her deep brown eyes

That would make the rest of the world melt away

And made his heart both weak and strong.

 

He did not think of the country he was giving his life for.

He did not think of the minimum wage.

He did not think of bathrooms or wedding cakes.

 

He thought of his kid brother

Barely in his teens and

Already getting into trouble.

Who will teach him life’s lessons,

While playing basketball

On the court set up in their driveway?

Who will keep him in line,

While giving him space to grow?

 

He did not think of the country he was giving his life for.

He did not think of the racism or the crime in the streets.

He did not think of the hatred of the stranger in the land of liberty.

 

He thought of many things.

He thought of the people he loved,

Their words, their smiles, their laughter.

And then he thought no more.

 

And we, whom he died for,

Think of bathrooms and wedding cakes.

And listen to the venomous rhetoric of our politicians.

And moan that the weather did not cooperate for our barbecue.

And haggle at car dealerships with salesmen

As they look for their next customer.

 

We, whom he died for, hardly ever

Think of the soldiers

Whose last moments

Were alone

But filled with memories

Of meaning.

 

 

 


Recovering 052119

Love is an old addiction

And I am in recovery.

Every day I wake up craving it.

It is the first thing.

It is the last thing

I think about.

I think about.

I think about.

 

And you were my drug of choice.

My drug.

My choice.

 

Maybe one day,

I will be a servant

To another mistress,

Slave to another’s touch.

 

But today it is you.

And today

And today

It is you.

 

Old cravings fade so slowly.

Old desires don’t let go

And I go on

With the hunger,

The yearning,

The pain.