And We All Fall Down

And we all fall down
    Our pockets full of troubles
Dreams burnt to ashes
When all we really want is to be free again like children

Time makes our days turn into months
And our months into years
    Taking us away from hours spent
    Playing in the sunshine
        Dancing in the grass until

We all fall down
Scrape our knees
    Bruise our elbows
Only now we have to
     Dust off our own pants
Fix our own bike chain
    And find a way to dry our tears

The nursery rhymes have faded
      Only echos now
Happy memories that wilt our hearts
       Like dying posies

Watch

Watch

As my words

Crumble

Like the glaze on a day-old donut

Stale, yet still just good enough to eat

Watch

As my words

Pile up

Like a 13 car accident on the highway

Horrific, yet glad it is not in your lane

Watch

As my words

Fall

Like the autumn leaves late in October

Beautiful, yet crushed underneath your sole

Watch

As my words

Fade away

Like the tingle of a first kiss

Intense, yet not ready to fully commit

Watch

As my words

Fill in

Like a coffee in the morning cup

Fresh, yet sipped with groggy eyes

Watch

As my words

Become

Like a butterfly in the summer

free, yet already starting to die

The Point of Now

Count the ways

    to a single point

More than South

    West

    North and East

A 360 degree map

    a point

        from A to B

        but to C and Z, also

See,

    there is a time

    in fact, it is now

    even tomorrow

This point is accessible

Even for those

    who believe they are lost

If I had the Words

If I had the words

    I would be able to tell you

    that the way you turn your head

        when you laugh

        is the definition of Joy

If I had the words

    I would be able to describe

    how the curve of your hip

        sharp against the night

        is the line of Desire

If I had the words

    I would be able to express

    how holding my hand

        to walk into a store

        is the moment of Love

If I had the words

    I would be able to write

    how your nicknames

        spoken by family

        is the song of Motherhood

If I was a better poet

    or skilled wordsmith

    or even half a Romeo

        I would have the words

        to move your spirit

But all I have are these words

I love you, always

After the Storm

The clouds have receded

The concrete grey and puddled

A fresh aroma of dirt and blossoms

The sun now hot on damp skin

The fears have receded

Windows still un-cracked

The flags sagging against the pole

The sun now melting the hail

The hours have receded

Children are swinging

Mom has yelled that dinner is ready

The sun now fading below the horizon

Fade to Nowhere

I’ll just fade into nowhere

my past like a flare into the night

I don't dare

because of the fear I feel

that no one saw

the brief burst of color

in a night sky filled with satellites

broadcasting another game

another 80’s movie

or rerunning a game show

I’ll just fade into nowhere

this moment like a flare into the sky

Stranded on an island

searching for a rescue unit

in an endless blue of

ocean and sky

not a cloud to be seen

or rain to come still

my thirst for something

more than all this space

I’ll just fade into nowhere

my future like a flare that won’t ignite

The wick wet from

tears I’ve tried to

dry with your love letters

and mail from the strangers

who seem to know

nothing of me

but want everything

I’ve built this life with

I’ll just fade into nowhere

I’ll just fade

Fade

I’ll just fade into nowhere

House to Home

There is a blue hand towel

on the floor below the right corner of the dishwasher

It leaks sometimes

I don't know why

The front door is scuffed with colors

    from the different door decorations

There are socks

in crumbled balls on the living room floor

Crumbs under the table

Toothpaste on the bathroom mirror

This is a house

        With a yard that has a few dandelions

           Nicks on the wall

And the roof has been replaced

But this is also a home

Filled with bubble baths

Family dinners

And groans when mom says it is time to clean the rooms

Pictures hang on the wall

capturing moments of joy

The DVD player has the girls’ favorite movie

The radio the boys’ favorite station

The pantry

filled with cereal and Pop-Tarts

three flavors of chips

and boxes of blueberry muffin mix

The hour is late

Time for bed

Stories and goodnights fill

the hallways

As this house rest from being a home

To the Teenage Boy Walking to School

It's been four years

since I've been in the classroom

but I still recognize the gait

    backpack slung low on the shoulders

earbuds in

    eyes on the sidewalk

head down, just a little

not gazing up at all

as if afraid to look the sun in the eye

I could tell from the look

I wonder what happens every day

    Do they taunt you

Is there someone who hates you

for no reason

Tearing up your homework between the bells

or breaking your pencils

    leaving you to take notes with a stub

or worse

    asking the teacher for a pencil

    bracing yourself for them to roll their eyes

    asking you why you never have a pencil

I speed by

    Life moves fast in the morning

    In my rearview mirror

    I watch you slowly shuffle along the sidewalk

    The school only two blocks away

    I say a small prayer

    that maybe today will be a good day

    for you

Forgiveness

Everyone says that forgiveness is for

    the betterment of your heart

That forgiveness releases you to be free

I can understand that

But see, no one tells you how to find the key

    or gives you the combination to the lock

Even

if by fate

    you find how to unfasten the lock

They don’t tell you how to untangle your heart from the chains

    that you have spent years wrapping tightly around it

    Chains of time

    Chains of regrets

    Chains of promises unkept

    Chains of memories that just won't go away

   

The chains have become protection

You have used them to stop the bleeding

    Wrapped them in all directions

        trying to keep the blood from filling your chest

    But it still drips through the links

        At night you can hear each drop echo in your mind

       

Madness is found in the repeated noises of life

Other times the blood comes in a rush

Spilling down the stained links

Life has a way of jolting us

    even on the most sunny days

So, you add another chain,

    tightening it

    wrenching it in place

        until the pain is just a dull thumping

            just behind the beat of the drips

    Chains are not made to heal wounds

See, even if you get to the point of figuring out the knot of the past

    till you can see your heart

    How do you heal the wounds

        the nicks and cuts

        let alone the gashes left unattended?

    How do you removed the indentations of the chains

        that crisscross your story?

    How do you find the faith to let your heart be unprotected?

I don’t know if I am that strong...