two hours without

not quite seven

the fire is burning out

two more days of work

before two days of rest

spent thinking about a search

for more work?

it’s not desired

only desire is in the eyes

look deep into daily

hope they always stay

focused here with me

two hours without

seems longer than

the rest of the day…

destination invisible

a lot can happen in two hours’ time

that proven fact is eye just worry

about the worst case scenario

back on my own with nowhere to go

no destination unless invisible one

in the mind freeze of a cold drink of juice

to offset all the coffee consumed daily

and at times consumed by worry

trying hard to make each day count

backwards until one is reached

far out on words written years ago

rewarding response rewarding in the mind

not in the pocket as of yet unsuccessful there

but here in the mind eye stay positive

and real eyes it only takes time

and time is all eye really have

if you think about it long enough it becomes

a meditation to humbly bring about success...

comes on fast

backwards speeding towards something

slippery beneath the feet

won’t stop moving

even when the mind

says stop

in the middle of a thought

something would make sense by now

the feet are tired

keeps the night short

and the morning comes on fast…

won't be beat

won’t forget words spoken

in anger or not

doesn’t matter only proves

disrespect runs really deep

no one has forced a change

supposing that job falls to me

bottom line twelve year old

will not run the house

not a man

and certainly not ‘the man’

he thinks he is talking

to his friends while talking to me

only difference is

if he said half the shit to them

that he does to me

he would catch a fist in the face

no one notices the disrespect

because it doesn’t hit them

right in the face daily

but I will not be beat…

day goes quick

work day passes fast

early morning turns to noon fast

working in the fast paced market

get it done for eight

sit for thirty minutes

back at it for the second half

noon comes fast

work day over back porch thinker

sitting on the steps

neighbor mows the lawn

family off at a movie

maybe a nap

and then do it again tomorrow

as the day goes quick…

broke down

still glad I went two days without

proof that I can

disappointment in not continuing

couldn’t be so miserable

to those all around

still glad to be outside in Hanson

even though the weather can’t decide

what it wants to do

under the sun bright and blue sky

then the clouds darken the whole area

earlier the rain got cold

and froze for a few as it pounded the car

still glad I am not anywhere else

with anyone else helping me

glad I broke down right where I am…

nothing to light

forced to go it alone

again and what am I

supposed to say

don’t feel good myself

waiting for another hour to pass

call it almost forty-eight hours

still don’t know what to do

sitting at the kitchen table alone

nothing of my own

‘cept a pocket full of change

a lighter and nothing to light…

twisted

nothing to say right now

to others at the moment

can’t think of anything else

the mind on constant repeat

thought won’t go away

won’t stray or even pray

nothing to say

to anyone right now

dealing with an itch

I cannot reach deep within

the confines of this disturbed

mind twisted…

four hours

four hours of heat

came from a burning paper bag

and a bunch of sticks

coals glow as wood burns

into and through the night

love to stare

into the center of the fire

the hottest spot

a thought

before it arrives

on time or late

into the night

with no one around…

watching fire

the fire is the only light to write by tonight
sitting under half starry sky
half cloud ridden and scattered
can barely see the words written
and the unwritten words stay
stuck up in the mind
watching the flame ruins
the night vision eyes just
adjusted then look to the flame
again and ruin the sight all over again
watching as the fire tears in the log
and eats it up to ash and dust
the flame wraps around the logs
fire reaches to the sky
as if it's got to get there quick
watching the fire twist in the wind...

sun on the tree

the table is glass

looking into it reflects

like water on a windy day

sounds heard all around despite

the hood and low flying plane above

most would rather let someone else

tell it on TV most would rather

be entertained guess that makes it

a do it yourself attitude

for those who hear

their own voice in their head

all day long already took a walk

today I sit under my hood

thinking about everything possible

and sometimes nothing at all

don’t need to be entertained

can handle the thoughts

my voice and my hand racing

as if I have some deadline

I didn’t create myself

happy looking through

the glass sliding door

through the house

and out the front window

to the sun on the tree

in the front yard…

same old

hearing the wind

in the trees

childhood comes to mind

how to bring

all this thought

into something coherent

or not

the same old reflection

in the table distorted

with the sound of running water

joins the wind

and the birds

and the man moving the pen…

the day at hand

more eyes need to see
the thoughts
understand the hours
spent above the page
hovering with enough
to fill the entire page
or book depending
on how much time you have
to see anytime to think
today could be the day
that propels me to tomorrow
by now knowing
he will be there pushing the pen
on another thought
same mind changed only
by the day at hand...

down in a hole

been in this hole seems like forever

dealing with attitudes that change like the weather

can’t escape the pit under the cloud where I am at

everyone is so full of shit I throw on a hood or a hat

does it really matter what is said or done

doesn’t matter how fast I am someone else already won

the battle the argument or even the war

want to see all the scars I will give you the tour

where I have been but about where I won’t go

some are talking too fast and I am walking too slow

for anyone to see that I need respect

but that’s one thing I will not expect

it’s impossible I am not the one wanted here

someone with more money or power he’d love or fear

knows I won’t leave because we are so tight

but he thinks he’s a man and he thinks he is right

I am stuck in the middle of this thought where I sit

he can say what he wants and I won’t give a shit…

another cup of coffee

another glass table to look through

as I move the pen

hoping someday to move the mountain

frustration out of my way

another afternoon with nothing to do

think and study the way of the ancients

how many before me sat

just like this running out of thoughts

another cup of coffee

to wash it all down

and make it all right

as the rain falls three days straight…

bird just wants to fly

what's the purpose here where he sits
is he trusted yet under round light
and no clouds with a chill in the air
a sweatshirt becomes necessary
as darkness approaches
he is miles from where he thought he'd be
by now finding some answers
maybe one that would clear
the clouded mind might make
different decisions if the mind cleared
like all the fields ready for spring
to bring forth something new
maybe fifth time around another corner
hiding from himself behind the pen
the page the mind keeping him caged
like a bird that sings but really
just wants to fly...