Alone and Disabled – Original Poem

I lied to you
I am disabled
A reject of society
Sworn to this motionless bed of distress

Young lovers frolicking in the grass plains
Children building sand castles and giggling as the waves wash away their creation

I drank from the cup of our passion once; drunk and so complete
Now I sit alone rooted into the ground
I cannot move
Nor feel you in my heart

Disabled and turned away
The sign reads no longer welcome

This house now collapsed
I rummage through the rubble to recover lost memories
A scrapbook, a photo album, a note


The pond is dry now
To whet the appetite for life is now but a dream
A premonition buried in the darkness of a gloomy future

I reach to feel something
Someone, perhaps
For a momentary speck, I am alive
I can walk

Walking turns to running
Running into your welcoming arms

It was a mirage
A spectacle of Broadway proportions

No open arms
No skin to skin embrace

Just this chair
Alone and disabled

Like a bird condemned by the devil
I sit still looking up to the endless sky


Sleeping Beauty – Original Poem

Your soul is gutted and left in a pile of shattered dreams
Thousands of screaming voices gasping; yearning to be heard; praying to be rescued
All silenced at the moment of numbness

Missing the air you breathe

The colors of the rainbow fade to black and darkness is the new light
Memories of the days of vision are words dusted off the journal of a young girl.
She sees the words, but can no longer feel them
They penetrate the skin and swim in this empty pool of lost desire

Once there was a time when the laughter of children fueled the dreamers
Once there was a time when the sun was the focus point of all energy
Once she felt so much love, it hurt with happiness

Now she watches the world from the outside, spinning on this merry-go-round only to repeat forever the same circle with no end in site


Apathetic and dazed
Paralyzed by the insensitivity we have become
Unconscious and awake
Walking with no direction home

Alone, listless now.  The cup of life is empty

In this desert, she only wants to feel one more time

Do not wake this sleeping beauty.  Pray so that once again she can dream; she can dance

Wasted Years – Original Poem


From coast to coast, I travel these empty roads
Filled with dirt, spread like dust, nothing but faded memories behind
Cities with faces so familiar to me; now so distant
Town like shelter for a man lost like me

Letters filled with promises of a future scripted with hope
Those letters now hidden in a box stored in a wet damp place once called home
They speak through the walls, but I am far gone now
Carried on by spirits living in the new world that breathes without a single breath

The water no longer cleanses me
It sends shivers down my spine
My scars grow deeper and my hands shake with time
It’s funny how the laughter ended when the clowns left my childhood

I stopped feeling at the rest stop a long ways back
I left it on the curb for another to have found
Its warmth was now like ice
Its safety now a broken fortress


Now I take this journey alone
Through the darkness then the light
Another day, another town, another face speaking in silent tones

I will not remember you
I will not remember me

I remember to forget each day
Hours turn to minutes
Minutes to seconds
Seconds to blackness

Morning Break – Original Poem


Hold me close, don’t let me go
You are the dancer sliding across the stage in my dreams
Swift as the wind, you glide through life with ease weaving through this tapestry of beautiful chaos

You are the music that awakens my feet and breaks the cement barrier holding me down
The day breaks me
The night even more

Freedom is a matter of principle to those that chose captivity
In this home, four walls define our next move

No way in; no way out
Apathetically, I wait
No hurry; no urge; no magic carpet to whisk me away

Hold me close, don’t let me go.
I’ve never touched you or felt your wet lips moisten this dry fleeting body


It is in this dream you dance closer to me
I stand on the edge of the stage waiting for you to leap off into my arms
Outstretched still, they are empty

One step closer, two steps back
Retreating further away from my invitation

Forever and ever I stand
No barriers, no walls, no love

Hold me close, don’t let me go

I open my eyes, touch my cold soft sheets slightly warmed from the sun’s light and sigh

No Mistakes – Original Poem


There are no mistakes in love
It is a conscious choice surrounded by consequence and reaping with thorns in its path

We don’t need to be rescued or found just led in the direction of happiness

I stand alone but never lonely
Lying in the darkness illuminated by the whisper of candlelight, I see promise
Promise gift wrapped in hope

Regrets are created by those that have given up and manifested in song by the broken hearted
Love it a risk with the highest reward
Blessed with kindness and bled with pain

There are no mistakes
There are no bad decisions
There is no turning bad

We often forget the reality because we want to be trapped in the dream


Another winter is upon us
Cold, wet and surrounded by a storm of thought
Deeper and deeper we slip into the bottom of the ocean
Fighting to breathe

At the final moment when the last breath is near a calm is found
It is the moment of pure enlightenment
A single second when balance is upon us and the future is clear

Depression is only the beginning – Original Poem


Depression is a term reserved for those that seek help

Insanity is the deafening silence ringing in my ears
No one to turn too
Friends are distant; friends are near; friends are nowhere

Each moment, a thousand years
Each breath, closer to my last

I swallow the last remaining call for hope
We are at the epicenter of a black hole swallowing us at speeds faster than light

Imprisoned on these tracks
Trains coming from both directions
So slow
I will them closer
Anticipation only makes it worse

Back to this dark room of covered in black
An irony of poetic justice
I hear the voice
I sense the feel but know I no longer have that ability
There is no strength in my muscles
These bones are now pillars of sand

Never before has the end seemed so tempting
Like the rich nectar of fruit forbidden from this dead palate
I want to taste the emptiness of death
I want it to swallow me whole and release me from this cage

Is it time?
The ticks of the clock are so loud now
Like a thousand screaming birds piercing my eardrum
Make it all stop
Make the pain subside

I pray to this deserted vacuum called humanity

Never has a word been uttered back
Never has a glimmer of happiness landed on this defeated lap

The Boxer – Original Poem

A dreamer high in the clouds
Abandoned in the ring, sweat dripping from his face
Memories of childhood’s imagination being chased by this incubus whose shadow lurks behind

Pain overcomes this body
Every jab a moment of temporary survival

Each enemy a new faceless opponent

Overpower your victim with the strength of your punch
Compassion rests in the chair awaiting a reunion after the final bell

Alone in birth
Alone in death
Alone surrounded by millions

The cheers are a deafening silence
In the zone
Now eye to eye a hunter and its prey meet
Who will be left standing?
Who will walk away and live for another day?

A battle of mental toughness and willing acceptance of fate

The boxer has chosen a destiny scripted in the sand for generations to look back upon

He is a warrior
The ruler of his senses; the architect of his castle

The clock ticks away and the hourglass slowly losses sand to gravity and time

Will this be a moment of triumph or an opus of a fallen soldier?