Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Till Death Do You Part

There is a small place in this world,
where a valley lays.
It is has a village with a few houses,
and a few trees at the top.
I live there,
and I wait.
Everyone waits.
They wait for a better year, a better day, or a piece of bread to keep from going hungry.
None of these ever occur.
They call it a healing process, and to be patient.
But each day I look at the horizon waiting for that better year, and it never seems to appear.
I catch fish, and walk by the lake, and climb a tree, but that horizon never has anything coming over it.
I hope and hope and hope.
Now I am hopeless.
I am also speechless.
I can no longer speak my mind or uncover my thoughts, for I am still waiting for that better year.
I have not parted yet, but I am still waiting.
I am waiting in that valley, with a few houses and a few trees, looking for the better days.
Death has not grasped me, not until that better year.
But I have been sitting and looking forever,
and my skin has wrinkled, as well as my life.
I am persistent on those better days, but I don't know when it will come.
Maybe today, tomorrow or in 1000 years.
Till death do I part, I will look for that missing better day.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


Summer came. Her freckles matched her heart, a different and unique object. Young is what we are, so we jumped holding hands, always together. I sang London Bridges Falling Down. We beat gravity. We were the music. If we could fly, this would be it. The chorus of our lives never got old, so how could this?

Lonesome at Day

Fall was here and everything seemed so alone. Winter was already bringing the cold. I walked outside and sat underneath the red maple tree. The leaves swished up, putting me at peace. I wished this moment would never end. She was gone and the air had not passed. It was time to heal. I would miss the skies. My heart dropped for a minute and I finally started to breathe. I flowed like a river at last.


My spirits lifted. I danced on the rooftop, and suddenly stopped. I screamed to the sky, asking why. Nothing seemed to survive anymore. I looked over the 10 stories, and 'smack' came to mind. It was no longer a matter of time, because I had no time left. My mind was conflicted and my heart burned with fury. No one cared anymore. It was bright and the wind blew without a purpose, just like me. I stepped to the edge and spread out my arms like peter pan. My eyes closed.
              I fell again, for the last time.