Debris

You can watch someone's life escape
see it break through the caution tape
into mysterious unknowns beyond.
Planted. Immobilized. Going. It's gone.
Look down to five toes below
to only see asphalt. Scream "Oh no!"
Ankles buried in solid concrete
Tears of fury and balled up conceit.
More tears. I must now admit defeat.
Gulp down feelings and chisel out my feet
Having to step back feels quite less complete.
Makes sense. Things are not quite whole
which seems to play with my head and my soul
Leaving a mystery lingering in my heart
A mystery too messy and strong for me.
How past the caution tape life takes a dart
Away from our anger. Away from the debris.

Stepping Over the Page

It hurts to envision the imminent
You've been left behind
Watch my feet race each other
Keep reality from my mind

Bringing up the rear is permanent
But when I look to each side I find
Children, fathers, and mothers
Walking with me, equally blind

All struggling with the same omnipotence
Forcing this path on mankind
With so many our path smothered
Yet solitude.

The future is written in words we cannot read
Walking through pages words become our feet

Characters in literature,
Leaping for the last page
Landing in the next sentence
This book will last an age

It doesn't matter to be mature
When nothing matters in a moment
When you're just being written and read
Just another wretched component

In an odyssey so massive
So dark yet so very litten
There's no time for us to be passive
Our story needs to be written.

Until Next Time- For Maxwell

I don’t know many 9 year olds I truly respect
Who share with friends and don’t ask for too much
But I know of one that honor could never reject
One who was always busy thinking of others and such

He was always very giving when he came to our house
And shared all of his toys with you and me
When it was late, and his family would head out
He’d leave us darts from his Nerf gun for free

Another time, by the Landry’s pool
When Max really needed to go
He decided to do something super cool
And he peed on my sister’s toe.

Max drank very deeply of life,
Making every single moment count
Some who have lived to a very old age,
Still haven't drank the same amount

One Friday at school, I was bored in class
When aunt Jamie sent me a text
Ditched my class, cause on campus was Max
And to the planetarium I went next

I sat outside the planetarium door
And smiled at what I could hear
From behind the door no one loved the sights more
Than Max as his wonder reached my ear

But that isn’t quite all that makes max stand so tall
Among people his age and those here longer
Cause when I was ill I would think of Max still
And remember how he was much stronger

Our tough superhero brought daily drama to zero.
As he loved in the midst of his trials
Staring life in the face Max felt it’s embrace,
He didn’t waste time with denial

Max has a head start now, to a place far above
A place that’s impossibly greater.
A place where he’s wrapped with powerful arms of love
So this isn’t goodbye. It’s see you later.

Fixing You Break Me

You're broken. Yes you're better but broken.
You're an arcade game. You just ate my token.

But I still try to play, just putting in more.
In last place, stumbling for your high score.

Still here for you. I can't help number one,
but for your benefit I'll still pretend to have fun.

It's selfish. "It" is me, for the thought of giving up.
Eating food flavored you, after throwing it up.

But you're escalating, slowly reaching the top.
You seem even higher as I gradually drop.

But as I cradle you I just resist the desire,
After a year I want to douse this damn fire.

It's late, and tonight I'll barely sleep.
But sincerely, thank you, for your thank you's I keep.

Comedians of Here

We're all staring at the stage,
Sitting before the screen
To watch him act a younger age,
To see him create another scene.
He has such a natural gift, one that I can't gain
He gives the mood a lift. I think he has us all trained.
Hourly I laugh at the antics.
Daily to him they're a bore.
His effortless humor and romantics,
What the hell is he doing it for?
He's already hitched, with the perfect life,
But his life's a bitch, and he just can't die.
Cause he's already dead and can't see who's alive.
And though so many of us love him, maybe even you,
The fact is someday his time will also be due.
The knife of his funny life is running him through.

He's impacted heaven's footrest.
Yeah, he's accustomed to fame.
Inside and out he's an utter mess.
If only he knew there are rules to this game.
That in giving this joy to everyone else,
It doesn't matter if it's for yourself.
There is so much blackness approaching fast,
Humor is something that will forever last,
It'll last and keep going, and he'll stay there,
Sure he mastered it, and it got him where?
It's gotten him nowhere past a rest for feet.
Literally less, with an expired receipt.

He'll repeat in the heat of the friends he will meet,
I won bet I've not met but who cannot forget,
I'll see him go, but I don't want to see him leave.
More than a guess a treasure chest open and the rest is me blessed.
Kicking and screaming will have a new meaning.
He leaves all beaming but he's too late for cleaning.

That's when I'll miss him in the newsroom,
Or see him streaking on the racetrack,
Or that one scene where he crashed the bride and groom,
Or as a cop whose angry partner had his back.
How about clubbing, wondering what love is.
Maybe going back to prehistoric times.
Or as a novel character finding out who he is.
Or two forty year olds with similar clashing lives.
Is this list all that They'll be?
Nothing more than a hilarious elf?
Or the captain of a team in Flint city.
Enjoy it, as I will myself.

The Eardrums of the World

Sometimes I think about screaming at the world.
I play with the idea, and let it swirl in my head.
I wake up and contemplate it, at night, in bed.
In the end I refrain, and am silent instead.

It would be senseless to scream at the world.
The result would be that my voice would be gone.
The world would laugh cause it's done nothing wrong.
The world would be still, ignore me, and move on.

I have no reason to scream at the world.
When I think about it, at the end of the day.
When all is done, I'm embarrassed and okay.
I'm actually being blessed and molded like clay.

Imagine a poll of who has screamed at the world.
Maybe those who loved someone who is now deceased.
Maybe those with foreheads legitimately creased.
Possibly someone who cannot withstand the beast,
Who is constantly chained under a lock and a key,
Someone who can't even imagine being free.
Maybe dreams about heaven are their only source of glee.
Someone who isn't spoiled like me.

I wonder if I'll ever scream at the world.
Either through immaturity, or just the horror of life.
Maybe I'll encounter a true source of strife.
For now I won't think about screaming.
But I'll help those that do, while I live my life.

You Can't Hear Me

In between connection and isolation,
searching for the purpose in the weakness.
Imperfection is flaunted by everyone
But can we be blessed in our meekness?
I hear everyone should be accepted for anything
I also hear their anger at my disagreement
But in their confusion they love their suffering.
I know their hearts can be broken. So can cement.
Could I really accept it all? Should we?
I find logic is invalid and ignored.
Yet logic says one is right, not both you and me.
Theres so many dead in this horde.
A diamond is worth less than a man,
yet as people we leave so fast.
We preserve diamonds. We scheme. We plan.
But do we care if our friends will last?
A quarter way through and I'm dying.
Before I know it I'll be there.
I'm going to spend my time trying.
I want you to know that I care.