I always feel a slight sense of discontentment or disappointment when I find myself saying or thinking, “next time.” Maybe it’s because I’m frustrated with myself at how it always seems like I’m trying to squeeze too much into a single day [or sentence]; setting expectations for myself that are way too high to climb and …
So what if my writing sometimes refuses to go any deeper than surface level and touch all the raw, sore spots, the gaping wounds, imprinted onto me by the egopinions of everyone but myself? Maybe I’m just tired of pain, and the remains of my own ego seek to shield me from the traumas of …
There are times I wonder if the ocean is my true home it soothes my heart and replenishes the salt in my soul; But somehow I always end up living far from the water and I find myself more often than not in salt baths and hard-water showers just to feel closer to home. …
How’s life? I don’t really know, I – Can I get back to you on that? I’ve been writing about it in my mind of what it is, what it could be, what it has been and there are vast imbalances between its scales. But this story isn’t done yet so I just keep writing …
Being of light that appeals to the lucidity of my dreams came to me the other night and said the world needs to know your story… Funny, the other night I couldn’t even remember – When I woke up grasping at twilight’s fading straws; But today, it was clear as the bell ringing my subconscious …
My body is not your home, you can’t just leave all your…things here, and come and go as you please; They leave with you if you’re leaving – they only stay if I choose to agree. My mind is not your dumpster – You can’t fill it with all your junk and expect me to …
Each drop of water is precious, Each has been here before. Every drop of water is timeless, they are souls that return again and again not to the worlds they know, but to the worlds they are, that are within them. Always here, whether as rain, dew, lake, ocean, sea – Whether they fall from the heavens …
I think I’m ready now to face down my shadows; The ones that burrow deep and that I attempt to run and hide from even in my sleep. I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal, not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel. I don’t  worry about how they’ve marred my soul – I determined long …
I think I like most of the things about myself that I say out loud I don’t – I self-deprecate to deflect the attention that part of me actually secretly desires but that I also hope happens organically; I haven’t figured out how to do that so instead I just push it all away. And …
Watching my heart shatter over and over watching the remaining shreds wave forgotten in the wind; Dying millions of deaths every passing moment wondering what normal life ever felt like… I’ve never experienced it, torn apart, I’ve become dust, ashes; scattered across realms and planes untraveled. No longer solid, never again whole… Like an edifice …
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
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