day to day ramble

a ramble that won't ever stop

the madness of an ordinary day

to day transitions hardly noticed

many things on the way to this point

to the part that makes sense

out of a ramble that might be hard

to get moving once stopped

and left dormant thoughts build up

need to find their way out

through a hole this ramble dug

to release some pressure

a ramble that won't ever stop

right in the middle of one thought

onto the next time the ramble comes

out of nowhere nothing between

mind and pen at that moment

the ramble takes over this time and space

for thoughts to take hold of something

tangible the way the humidity makes

the air all around feel heavy

as the ramble rolls on...

with the wind

the wind always picks up

when he’s thinking deeply

about life and what it might mean

everything means something

isn’t that what they say

the wind dies down a bit

he feels the humidity

his arm sticks to the page

only he see his smoke

travel with the wind

as it reveals something

each moment it moves

the air and if he had any

it would move his hair…

stare long enough

when staring sometimes

sight gets blurred

nothing can be seen

stare long enough

into nothing

the mind numbs

fully conscious black out

time freezes for a moment

only in the mind

the clock hands still move

in the other room

caught staring out a window

got lost in all the green

makes the room disappear

is the glass even there

at that moment who wouldn’t feel relaxed

find that moment

as often as possible

staring and getting stuck in the stare…

water glass

water glass not clear through

new eyes

see truth is life is hard

rough road for any and every

one minute water is like glass

and the next intense waves

of emotion shoot

through the pen and

only one gets to watch

the ink dry on the page

every few days necessary

if not daily

thought will get trapped

up inside…

it wasn't supposed to

where to begin to understand this life

has got to mean something

like the smell of fire

that lingers as the last hints of smoke

trail into sunset trees

reflection seen in table glass

what comes next

whatever it is it too will pass

too quick want to slow it all down somehow

where to rebuild some confidence

never held to one set of rules

tomorrow will come even if we don't get it

probably never will

where to begin right here in the moment

every moment counts as long as we let

them fall behind to make room

for all that is new about today

it won't make sense

it wasn't supposed to

where to begin and how we fit in...

leaf from branch

sitting breathing living

enjoying the day

and all it has brought

to this reality

that is here right now

and a cool breeze reminds

the mind to release itself

into the wind

like leaf from branch

not worried about the fall or flight

just flowing until the mind returns

a seated position relaxed

without pressure to be that way

just relaxed and floating feline

from table to floor with a thud

then continue on it's way

no thought on distance of fall

relaxed again sitting watching

wind ripple water in the pool

reflecting sky clouds and sun

mind returns again

as pen dances across the page

hardly knowing what

words will come next...

burn out before dark

left alone with thought

watching the fire burn out before dark

wishing to know more

explore places will never see

too late now to start it up again

the fire must be left alone

with thought tangled tighter

some days it's harder to see above clouds

even with the clearest skies above

wishing to figure it all out

untangle the web by day

break tomorrow

left alone with thought

all that solitude replaced with company

no one here to offer encouraging words

advise or criticism some eyes need to be found

to find this thought discovered while

sitting alone tan canopy and glass table

looking right through

catching the eyes dozing one minute

pen moving the next

left alone with thought

buried under the weight of the day

wouldn't end if the light would stick around

a little longer days ahead six more times

before the reverse is true

left alone with this thought...

thoughts left random

ten minutes per thought

game played while thinking

and power writing

just like power walking

without the walking

holding a pen instead

feet stay still beneath

mind studies the irony

of every situation pausing to quench thirst

for relief the only distraction at the moment

when they pour powerful into the head

they are immediately dropped onto the page

may never be seen other than these eyes

only allowing ten minutes then onto the next

some think thoughts need to be

refined to become poems

some thoughts just want to be thoughts

and left to their random ways...

out from the shade

sun becomes the day

has no clouds interrupting

the warmth felt

as soon as you step

out from the shade

serves it's purpose too

sitting on the porch under canopy

hot coffee to drink until I can drink no more

too shaky to write at times

sitting and just thinking

without the pen I feel useless

sun warms the spot enough

to never want to return indoors

wishing it was always like this

nice-fro is what some still call me

if they call me at all

and most of them don't...

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…