Wide-Open, Eyes Shut

Thursday Doors – Norm 2.0

Fear this
wide open space -exists
to construct walls

add windows
and doors
to enjoy the view.

If life isn’t fragments
what is the big picture?

tears witness death
storms wash me to sea
tides say goodbye, evidently.

devil in the details

all these thoughts

pouring down

welcome prayers;

the slowing

of my heart,

catching my breath.

i remain hidden

in a catatonic state

realizing opening sin

and boxed memories

rips the curtains

leaving the soul scorched.


has someone stolen your dance;
raped your dreams?

scars heal but peel…
your ripe and smell of orange.

“please, don’t hide”, she speaks to herself,
the corner of the room brightening

learns to dance in the dark.

If you have pitiful days, lying in the bottom of a bottle or wandering in briar forests. If you hold the knife, coincidentally imagining the scrapes on flesh, while watching the blood flow towards the desert. You have learned the answers to your questions. You eventually learn not to ask more questions when the answers never surprise.

If you breathe on every step. If you bump into all the rest. You will find the questions to ask. Just don’t seek the answers. Go hide.

knowing (part four)

you jumped

skipped, hopped over

eight years gone missing

the quiet of forest -misleading

as the twisted twigs show

the contortion of thought

peeled slowly…

you had every reason to believe

the smile, wink and nod of moonlit glow

was your savior unknown.

*my photo


Remembering childhood days

running home for dinner

playing legos with your brother,

Why’d it have to end?

What shadows crept behind the sun

washed out memories,

lurk, no amount of fight

breaks their will,

rushing to and fro,

cause your world to explode -no

running home for dinner or reading Ranger Rick -no

your running for your life.


So many onions in the world these days. –Grocery store blues

Tears seen. Burn through my heart. Enough tears. I will put down the knife.

Finding solutions are easy when we never create problems to begin with. And when we harvest thoughts, root them out, be prepared to cry. The world keeps spinning and who can stop it, to get off? Put down the knife, I tell myself.

I put down the onion too.