Behind Me

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You won’t see me
Martini
Numbed, ever
Spirits
Drowning my demons, never

I walked from you
Champagne-free
Toasting, forever
Mock(ed) Margarita
Proud, untethered

Post-Victim Era
H2O-flasked
Glowed, better
Sweet Jesus-juiced
My senses, together

Your Door: A Poem to My Son

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Such is the challenge
To behold a door
To sense all it leads to
While not grieving more

To know if it’s opened
The Divine has willed
To praise, when it’s closed
His providence, still

Forth, amble with purpose
Or wait night and day
But ask for The Blessing
God’s presence, to stay

The Greatest

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Our colors, like water…like oxygen…work well together…like art from artists, were we to work in earnest.

What say you, America — will we work on love, on great…’fore the hour becomes late?

Original Thought Credit:
“…the greatest of these is love.” -1 Corinthians 13:13
“When America ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.” -Alexis de Tocqueville

As You Wish

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I weep
That we
Were not good
Enough

I long
That you
Would see you’re
Enough

Clutter from time to time
Mismatched clothes
My dawdling
Our difficult workdays
For you, were too much

Brass rings collected
Passports filled
Our non-fictitious Florin acquired
Love, had you’d let it
For me, these were enough

Pie

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I loved you
I loved
Sleeping along side you
Listening to you breathe
Basking in your presence through the night
Seeing in the morning you were real
Sharing berries at breakfast with you

I’ll be damned — you were larger than life

And your walking away — without a goodbye — a most epic plot twist

A pie in the face afterall

X Y Zenith

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Just this one more line
Just this one more time
But I would have drowned

If you’d meant to change
If it were the day
Strength you should have found

Boundaries are most real
Boundaries helped me heal
Cross none sacred ground