wilted rose

someone found her broken body
beneath an open window
her mother wailed, who’s to blame
her father turned away, alone
no one really understood
why her life had ended this way
she was just sixteen, a month ago
unable to keep the demons at bay
life just is not the same
in the eyes of a teenage girl
what adults see as trivial
for her are all to real
when she came home from school today
her image captured in the mirror
summer waiting just around the corner
her face had grown no clearer
than she tried her new bikini
one pound to many she cried
she threw herself on her bed
her only answer suicide
one quick note to her parents
I love you but my life is over
then she flew into eternity
screaming over and over

who’s to blame
peer groups or the TV screen
filled with 90 pound beauties
and muscle men
where death is a fantasy
life is a sin
to innocent to understand
that death is a one-way trip
no chance for second thoughts
when you take that fatal sip
no more sunsets
no senior proms
no more lovers
wrapped in the summer sun
left with a six-foot hole
covered by a marble slab
with a name, two dates
and reasons no one understands

sixteen years
already gone
surrendered a life
forever alone
no chance left for goodbye
to many mourners with nothing to say
shaking their heads, turning away
leaving behind, a wilted rose
resting on her grave
in memory of
life’s wasted yesterdays

nonsense

green trees fall
to much wind
no one call
before the movie ends
the other guy
gave it all
for the monkey
before the fall
nobody else
knew the story
of uncle harry
and sister cherry
who forgot the day
closed their eyes
but forgot to say
the magic words
before they heard
the visions song
when someone said
you were wrong
when you sent
for more jackets
they took to long
now winters gone
summers here
to late for tears
dry your eyes
say hello
to the man
with nowhere to go
he was lost
you were found
where were you
when he hit the ground
he asked for sex
you cast a hex
no magic allowed
now you’re banished
to another place
because they said
you forgot his face
while rabbits ate
a storm abates
the little mouse smiles
for he was the winner
all the while

Tree of Confusion

A tree outside of my window seems to have fallen victim to a failure in natural law. Time has slowed to a point where the laws of physics no longer apply.

Today is February 26, however the tree seems to believe it is October 26. While the other trees in the neighborhood are bare or just beginning to show buds, this one is still dressed in its fall splendor.

A mixture of gold, red and orange leaves adorn its many branches. As if some gremlins appeared in the dark of night gluing and stapling leaves to the tree. I am tempted to climb its trunk and remove them myself.

If they don’t fall soon last year’s leaves will be fighting for space with their 2005 brothers and sisters.

Flashback Friday - Naked Reality

Naked Reality first appeared in July of 2004.

The hologram must be failing because he was beginning to see that what he believed to be reality was something else.

He did not bother trying to explain. People would assume he was crazy and lock him away someplace. The masses choose to see the emperor's new clothes though reality was running naked through the time/space continuum.

Not unlike an adult who can no longer suspend their belief while riding the Small World attraction at Disneyland. He can see the strings. The fantasy is lost. The record is stuck and repeating small, small, small over and over again.

The mundane moments pass the way of a summer breeze that ruffles the leaves of the maple in the front yard. Like the maple savors the spices of the wind, he tastes the moment but the cage remains empty and the watch remains unwound.

Time has no meaning. Clocks and calendars are useful for categorizing and filing away memories in a dusty attic where they are neglected and filled with cobwebs and dust mites saved for a rainy day that never comes.

He accepts the changes that his new reality has brought to his perception. He accepts the changes without fear and without prejudice.

Hot weather only reminds him that soon he will be cold.

Hunger is only a reminder that soon he will be fed.

Pain is accepted as a precursor to well being.

Tears are but a sign of the laughter that will soon follow.

The mini dramas of life are but rehearsals for the souls eventual evolving.

Death is but another door that must be opened or another road that must be traversed.

He sat watching the sunset on a deserted beach or was he watching the beginning of a sunrise that someone unknown to him was watching in Japan. Whatever the reality was did not change the beauty of the moment.

He took a handful of sand still warm to the touch from the suns passing and watched as the individual grains returned to their own reality.

Was he insane? He could not answer a question that was unanswerable. If he was that was the reality of this moment and he would ride the currents where they took him.

If he was not than maybe his perception had become just a bit sharper, his senses just a bit purer and his mind just a bit more aware of the knowledge that had always been there for the taking.

Truthfully, it did not matter if the emperor had new clothes or not. What mattered was what the lesson if any the emperor had learned.

Yesterday

yesterday
we said goodbye
to that beat up, old Chevrolet
she had carried us for so long
from New York to California
and back again
she still runs though the miles
have begun to take their toll on her
her once shiny paint no longer glistened
her front end sagged and
her back had begun to smoke a bit
her brakes squealed and
odd bulges rose like fault lines from her tires
her windshield was dimpled by highway debris
the doors groaned and rattled when we drove
her blue leather upholstery reflected the wisdom
of her age
defined by the wrinkles running through her seats
the dashboard was cracked
the steering wheel stained by the hands that drove her
her floorboards had rusted through in places
providing a birds eye view of the passing miles
and the headliner was nothing but pitted, unfinished metal
no she was no longer show room perfect
she was really nothing much to look at
but she was the first car we ever owned
and letting go was so hard

yesterday
we said goodbye
to that beat up, old Chevrolet
but we kept the memories
of the life we had built
and the miles we had driven
of the nights spent parked
at Puddingstone Lake
of the days we cruised
down old route 66
of the night
we brought our firstborn home
of Christmas trees
and New Years eve
of all the pieces
that placed side by side
make up the puzzle
of one couples life

Sandman

another restless night spent
tossing and turning
on a mattress, designed
for the marques de sade
needles of pain dance along
the spine, mindless
commuters on a
biological superhighway
carrying messages of
desertion
from the sandman and
his motley crew
leaving behind
a family of sheep
chewing holes in the carpet
waiting for the countdown
holding for three weeks
to begin again
when sleep returns
to the valley
of bloodshot eyes
REM being the only key
allowed to open
a dreamland for
a weary soul
before breakdowns begin
minds abandoned
in a world of
swirling black & white
where the sleepless gather
caffeine junkies
on a Starbuck’s binge
unable to embrace
the cold comfort
of the hour before dawn
when the ghosts
of moments unlived
haunt the static filled
airwaves

of the AM dial

The Dance

It was 1930 something when they met. One Saturday night found her along with her best friend out on the road to the coast for a night of dancing to the latest sounds from one of the era’s big bands. A few miles down the road from the ballroom their automobile broke down and they were stuck, with little chance of making it to the dance.

At the same time he was driving the same road along with his best friend heading for the same dance. As they pulled aside of her car they pulled over without hesitation to offer assistance.

When he got out of the car and she was able to take a good look at him she felt like she had been kicked in the gut. Butterflies began flying at unheard of speeds through her stomach and she was sure that everyone would notice that her hands had begun to shake.
On the outside she managed to maintain her composure while on the inside she was struck with a sudden life changing insight: this was the man she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with. She knew it with a certainty that she had never felt about anything before.

He took charge immediately and opened the hood to her car. He handed his jacket to his friend and began tinkering with the various components that made up the engine. He did not say much, a few grunts and groans, before he stuck his head out and told her to start the car. With a few clicks of the key the engine fired right up.

They sat outside the car for a few minutes to ensure that everything would be fine. During the course of the conversation they discovered that the four of them were headed for the same destination.

Without the subject ever being broached they paired off with their two best friends in one car and the two of them in the other. Which unbeknownst to them was how it would remain for the next half-century or so.

Arriving, they parked the cars and were immediately carried away by the swinging sound of the band that was playing. They danced until the cows came home as the saying went.

Dawn found them back on the highway paired off as before. Fate driving them down the road into the awaiting future.