Grasping At Straws

Children have drowned in buckets and toilets.

You are the straw that would break my camel.

Traversing the desert hundreds of days.

No food, no water, just an oasis.

Illusion of friendship always denied.

Grasping at, clutching an unreal image.

Abandoned when I needed forlorn hope.

The rest, they’ve forgotten. You’re not the first.

Only a parallel string universe.

My days are reminders of what I lack.

And my nights are relief until I wake.

I am falling behind, finishing last.

It’s time to be done; no future with smiles.

I’m so hungry, but my appetite fails.

Starving for fulfillment I’ll never have.

Embrace the end, there is nothing beyond.

Release will come when the coward is slain.

Learning how to let go, with no regrets.

Alleviate the pain and suffering.

Nobody sees the weight that crushes me.

Behind the wall of fake smiles and lies.

Internal reflections of what will come.

The calm of my descent from the living.

Consequences considered, not abrupt.

Minimize the disruption of impact.

For once I will be happy all alone.


My Invisible Friend

mesopotamia, iraq - babylon relief

A broken record, a device abused.

Something for those times we’re hurt or confused.

Needed in the moment, but let go fast.

Something needed until the moment’s past.

Abandon, neglect. Temporary tool.

Excitement. Erect. What a silly fool.

Nights alone, with a connection outside.

The faith, the belief, the world changer’s here.

All for material, how could it be?

Friendship, ally, not another ride home.

Lies and deceit? Never would I have guessed.

The stories, the victim, misunderstood?

An egregious error if there was one.

Forgotten like the world I’ve always fought.

No intentions of purchase. Just myself.

Surprised at no hello after goodbye.

Oceans amassed and quiet tides rolled in.

Mysterious disappearance. Where now?

No more films or other stories exchanged.

An unbetrothed betrayal. Listening.

A kingdom bought with a smile and touch.

I could have been the jester. I played well.

Well enough leaves it alone. A small wave.

An enchanting tale. Looking for the signs.

When I am king, regret takes the same path.


Sometimes I feel like cold snow after a snowfall, clinging to a windshield to escape the cold winds.

I’m afraid I’ll someone will brush me off before I find the warmth I seek from inside.

My sand brethren are tossed from the desert like dirt by the sandstorms.

Dust Storm

And they too rest on windshields, seeking shelter from the blustery winds.

But they too will get brushed off, before they find safety or calm.

It is hopeful that when they are tossed again by the sandstorm, they will find a shoulder to rest.

Before they are sent aground again by one who does not wish them there.

A toupee flaps back and reveals its owner’s true beauty.

Creating an illusion that is no longer a disguise.

Now in the rain and the darkness that must come with ominous, his umbrella attempts the same trick.

It must be forgiven for merely turning itself inside out.

We have no past other than memories, because we are the future and tend to forget.

Others may remember, but they are the lucky ones who cannot be forgotten.

How do I become one of them?

Nobody answers because nobody’s listening.

Maybe I should run away to a faraway place, where life is fantasy, and nobody knows the difference.

Who could find me there?

I pretend that somebody’s listening, and they give me the answer I’d like to hear.

I could go even further, to find a place where everyone supposedly goes someday.

I don’t want to go to a place like that.

Whoever came up with the horrible idea for this place surely can do no better there.

I should just wait, like a tree, or that man who slept beneath one.

Life size bronze of Rip Van Winkle sculpted by...

He surely didn’t know the difference.

Someone would surely find me there, and expose me to the world’s denials.

Invisible powers activate when least needed and most heeded.