ode to the steps

pushing buttons just to see

how much I can take

the heaviest weight

keep piling it on top

you can't crush me

no matter how loud you get

no matter what you say

you won't break me

don't know how I fit into this life

even when I think I do I don't

but I do know I will outlast

both of them

and smile on the other side of right now

smile right now but no one

around to see how much better

since then when truly alone

in the basement every night

and my own bed every night

sharing space is so much better but

day time sometimes impedes

closeness can't worry just be patient

and I will come out on top sure of it

no matter what type of bond

they think they have and will never have with me

facing all the challenges steps of progression

through unlearning what I thought I knew

but don't and won't break like trees

in the breeze bending with ease

praying on knees for relief of pressure put on

standing tall no matter what comes next

the steps won't trip me up

firmly knowing I am where I need to be

understood and respected not

tolerated and disrespected whenever possible

two cents put in and won't buy my ear

for any amount of time wasted walked all over

and realizing even the rug has a purpose

at times wondering how it got under the steps...

smoke watch dream

smoke watching swirl round

wet wood turns it black

as night or dad's coffee

but he's drinking it

on the other side of the equator

at the moment

envious only of a simplified life

not much but having

the beach at my feet

only a dream

at the moment

the rest of my life

would be the same

swirling smoke around a fire

my beautiful girl by my side

would not even mind working

if life was simplified

less worries less bills less stress

the beach at my feet

smoke watching dream

taking a walk on that beach

cins hand in mine

walking until we wake up

then walk some more

smoke watch dream...

mt pad

moving the pen all day

makes me feel productive

as I know I am

every day brings a new challenge

this mind to a think off

alone as often

when it gets dark again…

day off search

staring into the fire

blinded by smoke

trying to find balance

wherever it might be

somewhere deep within

the coals of this fire

started with one spark

burns for hours

the sun goes away for the day

staring into the fire

blinded by brightness

the flame stares back

can't find that balance

even though sun shined down

without cloud interruption

staring into the fire

searching for something

on my day off...

or clutter it up

the sun warms me as I think

of things maybe yesterday too

many thoughts to try to focus on

one day it will be worth the mental struggle

and physical strength it takes

to be here pen in hand

sweating because the sun shines

down from directly above

helicopters hover and fly away

just as quick as thoughts fly

in and out of the mind

made up of all the things I have done

too many to keep track

but I try to focus on every thought

it has a purpose

to point out

thoughts serve to organize the mind

or clutter it up

side is a lot of books

filled with words

whirling with wind whipping

wisdom why not…

Saturday sitting

515/2010 945am

Saturday off sitting in the sun

the bright light warming

arms head neck aiming down

to the page a year older

then when last Saturday off sitting

breathing enjoying thoughts and sun

ideas on why the hand shakes

when writing thinking breathing

living for a living again

even though it won’t pay the bills

won’t stop when you pay one

another one is due to be paid

the price for mistakes made

not long ago but long enough

how many even remember

how long it took to get there

then here falling back into produce

everyone needs to eat

no matter who or where you are

you have been here before

it’s a circle and it just keeps coming back

to a Saturday off sitting smiling at the sun…

arms across

want to explore

the stars seen when I close

my eyes

looking deeper

then deeper still until

an understanding is reached

arms across the table

where another sits

patiently waiting for me

to understand myself…

no idea why, shape before eyes

no idea why the mud

surrounds these feet

kept standing though

still moving in the mind

this writing becomes

a waste of time

success is the only option

no matter how long still standing

in that mud feet will eventually

break free giving some movement to words

written yesterday now or twelve years ago

smoke out the nose like a dragon

fire breathed ends on the page

without reason or rhymes at times

no sense at all

found only moments after

when listening

to the thoughts roar

take shape before eyes...

being unheard

far from where I once sat

so much higher in the chair

brought it from where I was

to where I am not satisfied

being unheard as I am happy

with decisions made

and where I have ended up

just as high up at times

lower than ever lack of vitamin D

lack of serotonin on three pills

to make me feel better

about being unheard

as I am walking no one looks

as I pass on the right

or the left it doesn’t really matter

where I have been only where

I am going to be heard and then

all the doubters will line up to apologize

or congratulate whichever comes to mind

all the words spoken to these

silent books revealed at once

could result in an overload of sorts

not something I can’t handle

and I am sure I will appreciate

as I do the sun each morning

when it rises as I higher today

with positive thought

pounding out a path under foot

soldier for the thinking mind

ready to explode when given the chance

to expand I will stand higher

and for longer waiting with every breath

patient as always the patient

they want to study why I feel

the way I feel fine

line between doing okay and being crazy

to think that someday

this voice will be heard…

traffic in the distance

trying to see the light

the tunnel is too long

to look from end to end

should have made a friend

or two

trying to hear something

that sounds more pleasant

to the ears than traffic

in the distance

trying to make something

of myself

after all the time…

before light arrives

the birds start before light arrives

and sing all day long notes and short ones

high pitched and whistles close by

and as far as an ear can hear

sitting enjoying the setting sun

as it starts to move behind the pines

the only one here but not

the only one to hear the birds

everyday all day and they start

before the light comes on

you would think they would be tired by now

but even more join the nightly chorus

until there are so many I lose count

but I wasn’t counting

if I was I would have lost count

and no one is here to tell me otherwise

but what do I know…

just another

the numbers don’t matter really

though they keep piling up

like leaves below trees in four months

summer will be all over

my head there are no clouds

scattered in the sky

answers to all my questions

with a clank stare

into these eyes at night

wishing for morning to come back again

with new and brighter sunshine

blinding even when it isn’t warm out

when it should be by now

maybe these thoughts are psychotic

an episode seen many times

standing still

just another day

a reminder that none of us

get any younger…

to the face

got two blank books going at once
again not that I can keep up
fast pace writing that I used to do
willing to try to find a better way
to bring it home maybe someday
it will be easier for now a struggle
to connect two ends untied on
the floor comes rushing to the face
do not want to end up there again
all is never lost all is just really confusing
at times I am on top of my world
others I am so far below
don't know how to move a piece
for fear of getting taken
for a ride down not up the hill
to fall up the hill to stay and find
a balance no matter where I stand...

dry afternoon

afternoon dryer
then the morning
brought more questions
then answers
wasn't looking for anything
just trying to wake up at four am
twelve hours ago
tripped over feet
kept my balance rest of the day
until now fell down to rest
wonder why can't rest
don't want to close eyes
while sun shines on
these arms get tired too
and it must be the purpose
of arm rests on this chair
never used though
always moving this pen
might be a different color
but you'd never know because
you read the typed version
thoughts trapped randomly
organized on the page to make
some sense...

headache at 2am

small bursts of light

on the insides of eyelids

thunder clap pound

pulsing through the head

no matter which way turned

inside out

frustration at the spike

that won't dissipate

like clouds when sun is strong

drenched in hot water 2 am

trying to force the pain away

from the center of relaxation

heat the final piece relieving

the tense area

more little bursts of light

on the eyelids at 2 am

tossing and turning...

observation deck

outside as the day comes close to an end

observation made from the deck outback

who is going to see him here

the words he writes and the sound

the pen makes as it squeaks over the page

under his fist tight wrapped around a thought

and then tomorrow predictably doing it again

he never minds just wishes

the walk was a leisurely one

instead of a rat race scramble to get more

cheese or something that will pay the bills

outside unlike years passed on an enclosed porch

where others sit now no idea how many nights

that was his cabin out of the way of everyone

so much so he had to go

luckily found himself here but his cabin

is a convertible this time

and if he had hair it would be blowing

in the cool breeze...

something will change

seven days away

with thoughts of disappearance

the light on tells me someone is home

no one lets me in

the door is always locked

have had a key since

before I laid my head to rest

seven days from now something will change

nothing can stop the swing

under the clock

back and forth all day and night

seven days is a week to most

might be another year

before I truly understand

what my purpose is

way back to when I was sitting

on a different porch

similar ideas but they were

so much younger then

older than that now

that I am older I should understand

a little better but I have a dollar

and a hole in my shirt

who notices this shit ‘cept me…

not an item you buy

happiness isn’t something

you can buy or a place you

can drive to it’s a state of mind

attained when all sadness

is left behind

moving from then until now

how long can you go on unhappy

searching for that destination

called happiness when it does not exist

only the mind can bring the sadness

to the end at the edge

where you might be just as crazy

if you continue to search for happiness

when it’s with you all along

wherever you go and for as

long as you are gone…