Dream Deferred (16-16)

“Dream Deferred”

 

Wrap up the cables, pack the tuner,

zip up the bag, and close the door

to the only avenue that ever made sense to me.

Six years ago, I found my place. I found

my savior in the form of six strings and a stage.

I preached your church, drank your tri-tone blood,

ate your scalefull body, practiced your gospel daily.

The path to escaping this life of

poverty and pain was never clearer,

my direction was never straighter,

my life was never more mine,

until one day. I had a decision to make.

I was given a choice. I was given no choice.

Follow the door I opened for myself,

follow a dream, follow my path, or

slam it

shut?

Open a new door, charge in blindly,

and hope for the best?

Six strings; one for every year that my life made sense,

clipped and discarded, for you.

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Insomnia (15-15)

“Insomnia”

 

The sheep are overlapping each other,

I have counted to negative one thousand,

The pillow is cool, the sheets are warm,

I ran for a mile, ate all of the right foods,

I listened to the ocean tapes and quiet music,

I have seen the day change, and now the sun rise

for four days now.

In between sheep, my thoughts seep through,

my fears come alive, your face clouds my mind,

your name rings throughout.

In between sheep, I smile.

My hopes come alive, your face clouds my mind,

your name rings throughout.

In between sheep, I cry.

I think of where we went wrong,

my fears come alive, your face clouds my mind,

your name rings throughout.

The sheep are overlapping each other,

I have counted to negative one thousand,

the pillow is cool, the sheets are warm,

I ran for a mile, ate all of the right foods,

I listened to the ocean tapes and quiet music,

I have seen the day change, and now the sun rise

for four days now.

Treasure Pain (14-14)

“Treasure Pain”

 

The map is not paper,

the directions are not in ink.

The screen holds the coordinates

and my brain is left to think

of how to decipher the code

embedded in the lines

that lay in front of me

as I look for the crimes,

its victims, and its perps,

but my eyes are not tools

suited for this mystery.

I could make a fool’s

guess but without the key,

buried inside a fragile heart,

destined for hurt, booby-trapped

from finish to start,

I will never know for sure.

So the question remains:

is me knowing the answer

worth my lover’s pain?

Secrets, Secrets, Lies (13-13)

“Secrets, Secrets, Lies”

 

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

What are you hiding behind that sweet disguise?

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

Who is that sneaking out from behind your warm dark eyes?

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

That’s all I ever get.

 

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

Sister, brother, girlfriend, mother

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

Lie more to yourself than you do each other

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

One day you will regret

 

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

I’ll take a stand and be honest to no end

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

I won’t play your games and I won’t pretend

Secrets, secrets, lies

Secrets, secrets, lies

You won’t bury me yet.

Lovercall (12-12)

“Lovercall”

 

The scratch of the skin, the claws on my back,

the sweat on my hands; she savor me, as I

savor her, her touch, her tease, her taste.

I press my lips to hers, sharing my love for her

goddess body that she has blessed me with.

I drink her bliss and moans

as my tongue reintroduces her to God.

Any confidence stripped in a mirror

is suddenly regained with her clench and a scream,

a reminder of my name, a call to her euphoria,

a call from my love. My

Lovercall.

Second to None (11-11)

“Second to None”

 

One of many,

I stand in this line waiting

for you to make your decision,

your selection. The direction you choose

must be clear.

You call my name, I take step forward, you

stop me.

You call the name of another.

You weigh your options and struggle to choose,

announce them as your preference,

expect me to be there if they fail.

You weigh your options and struggle to choose,

but the decision was already made for you.

I step back, back into the line.

I will not be your second choice.

I am no one’s second choice.

I am second to no one.

I am second to none.

Decisions, Decisions (10-10)

“Decisions, Decisions”

 

“He who hesitates is lost,” so they say,

so I jump to make my decisions and declare

who I am before anyone else can play

the cards I was dealt for me, whether just or unfair.

 

If I think too much, I’ll lose what I want

but if I don’t think at all, I may choose wrong

and that’s not something to approach nonchalant,

but it’s something I knew all along.

 

But they also say that life is a journey

and no matter how much you try to advance,

your happiness can end up in a morgue, on a gurney;

just another victim of circumstance.

For the Love of the Game (9-9)

“For the Love of the Game”

 

The feel of the polyurethane under my feet

As I glide along the sealed concrete,

Is oh so bittersweet.

The wind through your body is bliss

but the pain in the boot is something I wouldn’t miss.

The plastic on the fiberglass reinforced wood

sends waves and vibrations all the way up to my hands.

With every cracking sound, my heart skips a beat

and a jolt goes through my spine

as I push force through Sher-Wood or Christian,

sending my efforts to the back of nylon netting.

Gasping for air, I fill my lungs with love

and pain. Tomorrow will brings sores and bruises

and a smile. Until the next game.

Fucked-Up Art Project (8-8)

“Fucked-Up Art Project”

 

From my sleeve, I hand you this

red, beating, pumping,

scotch-taped and super-glued

hollow muscle.

You accept it,

and hold it for the time being,

only to return it with

another piece of tape,

and more dried glue.

This is becoming all-too-common practice.

Too many times now,

I have handed you my heart

and you throw it back.

One day, I’ll drop it,

Let it break,

and won’t bother to pick it up.