Sing the Song of Success…

October 2015 1Success signs still small songs
shining shimmering in the sunlight
success slides silently between
silk sheets of sorrow
and smiles from sympathetic witnesses
sitting on the sidelines
singing their own songs
success stirs the pot
sprinkles spices liberally
sets the table
with ordinary dishes
serves up sumptuous portions
of chocolate covered gruel
that tastes disturbingly sensual
success
is that still small space
inside your soul
that smiles in the silent darkness
and shouts yes, quietly, in your brain

 

 

This poem brought to you by the OctPoWriMo prompt for today… and the number three (not 11… I started late)

Quito

coffee brewing
grateful it was there
and with caffeine
and sugar
and strong
and there
up
too early
by far
and yet
the words creep through
and spill
across the page
mixing and mingling
with
random chasing thoughts
city sounds
bird songs
the breeze
diesel fumes
faint
unmistakable
morning
sounds and smells
caress
the back
of my brain

Shaded

021

I watched him ride
That mother’s son
alone
in the quiet city
the not quite streets of dawn
Up and down
and back and forth
alone
he rode
slowly
side to side
I watched him
that mother’s son
on his bike
in the not quite dawn
stop
bend
check the discarded Marlboro pack
Discarded? maybe, just maybe
there would be one left?
dropped not tossed
no
on again
I watched him
and I silently wished
I could reach out
and help
but
in his aloneness
he shut out
everyone
and everything
but the silent ride
on the lonely bike
nothing to protect him
from the
cold
of the city
that mother’s son
alone
I wanted to offer him
not smokes
I don’t
but a dollar
all the cash on hand
to maybe help
just a little
to the mother’s son
alone
in the shadows
of the not dawn city
living
in the shade
of the unreal
real world
a step beyond
lonely
and alone
this mother’s son.

I love yous…

She never said I love you
Doubted she probably never would
I thought for years
It was only me
That the defect there was mine
I was, after all, the one who broke the crayons
Evil child
Inconvenient child
Unwanted
Detested
Different
Broken

Not quite smart enough
to know when I was sick
Not quite pretty enough
no not like the golden child
I was always
the one full of drama
the one
who never fit in
mistake
misunderstood
longing to matter
even just
half as much

His love
Was special love
Not told
No never
Always only shown
Special touches
Special hugs
Secrets never told
Humor covers
Insecure confusion
And still
Defective
Broken

Even now
with all I’ve left behind
all I miss
all of the fears
that fill my days
even now
Not quite
good enough
to be bothered with
i know
I get it
i see

Never told I love you
Never shown ever as good
never ever as good
— why can’t you be more like…
Never accepted as me
Never as good
Never enough
Never seen as me

Retrospect
I see
Why
Hugs matter
Why
I love yous matter
Why
Never could I judge
Why
you can be whoever you want to be
Why
I will, to my dying breath,
let you know
that I love you forever
I like you for always
and no matter what
either of you do
my babies you will always be

I love you.

Joy

Joy
is painted
on my mom’s coffee cup
in pink
with flowers
Joy
is the splash
of puddles
cold in the melting snow
warm in the summer rain
that says I don’t care what you think
I’m never too old
for puddles
and giggles
and rainbows

Joy
is riding
with your head out the window
ears flapping in the wind
nose taking in
all the marvelous sniffs
In the dark of predawn
or at sunrise
or parked in the garage
becuase it’s all in the preception

Joy
is the first green
peeking through the ground
after a long and snowy winter
reminding me of my past
and my future
and that changes are only changes

Joy
is the bitterness
burried deep in the bottom
of the coffee cup
covered in brightly painted memories
shared with people you love

Joy
is the simple message
out of nowhere
saying I love you
I’m glad you found me
Thank you for
brightening my day

Joy
is the quiet place
I find
within
without
where my soul
can fly