Archive for May, 2018

in love’s last words

May 28, 2018

things i rarely spoke of, they used to linger here
deep in the shadows of a good and happy life
so well hidden i never really dealt with them
their consequence, like silence, so easily ignored

perhaps that’s why they stayed, patiently waiting
trusting in a conscience they knew would prevail
and a strangely unwavering faith in redemption
certain they would hear their final exit lines…

i’m sorry; i love you, i will always love you
even though i feel i can no longer stay
even though you feel you have to leave
every promise, every vow, was truly spoken

i’m sorry, though the confession changes little
our stars were as they were; meant for no more
just kids, playing at life, at love, and lost to it
to a fire we had no wish or ability to control

it is the nature of youthful passions to ignite
to set the world ablaze and revel in its warmth
every moment meant for instant consumption
but in it, often, too much of ourselves is exposed

left to the unintended harshness of impatience
and the unforgiving insecurities of immaturity
things are said; thoughtless, empty, even hurtful
the weight of which the heart fails to comprehend

no such thing you would have said can i recall
but i remember my own, i remember your tears
and i remember that crippling soulless feeling
unable to take back, to heal, the wounds inflicted

these things alone singe the edges of the picture
the image of that ‘could have been’ love story
the one the mind rewrites for life’s next chapter
these things, lingering, leaving me always less

that you looked past them, that we parted well
may have allowed me to think i had grown
but i hadn’t, i hadn’t understood what i did
why i did it, or the need for honest contrition

and so these things, they waited, faithfully
waited till today, when i saw your eyes
tearful, looking back at me through another
as a calming voice whispered ‘i’m sorry’

and i was, and i am, and i have been
for all things i said, and all i didn’t say
for the pardonable sin i left unpardoned
unable or unwilling to seek forgiveness

in their leaving, these things will lift me
the shadows they hid among will fade
and i will be reminded of the best i can be
better, because of the love we once shared


mixology vol. 2

May 20, 2018

This tale of a “strawberry stripper” is comprised of the often obscene names awarded to alcoholic drinks.

It is the same approach I used to pen mixology vol. 1 in 2011.  That verse is available here:

However, this new verse is probably a bit much for the main page.

Accordingly, the actual poem is found on a separate page entitled a bit too risqué:


the rules, part 3 (rough edit)

May 10, 2018

she can get mad, and she will
she can get sad, even cry
at times, all you do will still fail
but that doesn’t mean you don’t try

it’s not the things you got wrong
it’s not your words or your deeds
it’s that she feels you don’t care
for her, who she is, or her needs

so winning the point is a waste
as foolish as playing it cool
and lying, regardless of why
will only serve anger as fuel

better you simply stay true
listen, accept, and just wait
trying to fix things too soon
is nearly as bad as too late

she’ll let you know when it’s time
remember, it’s not who was right
this is about something more
or it wouldn’t be such a fight

the fire you see in her eyes
was set with an aim more sublime
meant for a feeling she fears
has since been ignored over time

trust in the person you know
have faith in the bond that you share
and show her the person she loves
has, and will always, be there

wisdom crawled out

May 8, 2018

wisdom crawled out, beaten and torn
flailing about on the bedroom floor
begging for mercy, taking her life
swearing an oath to heaven’s despite

evil awoke, tearing its flesh
spitting up blood and stinking of fish
seizing itself like a ravenous beast
swallowing whole its lust and deceit

ashes to ashes, demon be gone
leave her the carcass of faith when you’re done
little is needed of meat on those bones
barely enough is more than she’s known

still, there’s a chance of the strength to go on
of making a meal from the scraps hereto thrown
drawing on something beyond all can see
rising, and thriving, through limitless pain

wisdom crawled out, beaten and torn
gathered herself in the girl on the floor
nodded to mercy, rescued her life
and swore a new oath to heaven’s delight