Night Driving

I don't know what it is about night driving that I like. Maybe its just another form of meditation for me. Maybe its the fact that its at night, I don't know but I've always loved it. I haven't done that for a while. I just drove 50 miles over the highway and the car was handling like magic. Maybe its the focus? Yeah thats it. The way you have to focus just to stay alive. Defending and safe guarding the lives of your passengers as you go....

The night driver is a protecter. If there are any passengers they may be sleeping and if there are other night drivers they may not be alert....Is like a dream. Just you and the road. Maybe thats why I love it. Is it me or is it the poetry in me that makes everything I do into a poetic experience? Like night driving?

...TheGift

IN a world of rainbows all mine have gone gray.

I keep losing it.
That little bit of me that makes me human.
I don't know where it goes.
I would say check the woman's bed
But I doubt she knows
She thinks I was never human
She thinks I have no soul
She thinks that I tricked her
Into loving me so...

I keep forgetting myself
Why must I keep hurting?
I thought they meant something to me
But my heart keeps burning
Whenever I take oneFive more become appealing
So I shut myself away
In a dungeon
With no ceilings

...TheGift

Dreams of Broken Poems

Could you meet me in the middle?

I yelled at her
Screamed but she didnt hear me
The fog was so thick.
Her loneliness was palpable
I stroked her hair..or where
her hair used to be
replaced by a void.
Replaced by a noise

a soft whimepring.

*****************************

Theres only a little time left!
I grab your hand
we run
and Run
And Run
So much pain we are escaping
yet there is so much pain ahead
as we run grass sprouts
from the stones at our feet
yet we run away
yet you..
are runnin..
from me

**************************

I'm falling
through water
swimming through air
I cannot tell
which way
i care

"We don't even care whether or not we care"

There was green. A park of some kind. The smell of freshly bloomed flowers washed over me as she reached out her hands. No words were exchanged. Just a slight movement of her hands as if to say "take them". .In that simple gesture I was comforted as if all the worlds problems left me in that moment.....

And then I woke up. Why do I still dream of her? She is gone. So Far gone. I can longer claim her so why does my subconscious mind continue to torment me? Could it be that I gave her a piece of my self that I have yet to recover? Could it be fate or destiny which bends my thoughts against my will? Why do I desire her, She who does not desire me?

These are the thoughts that ruined my breakfast. The prepared meal of Grits, hash browns and broccoli pushed aside for a quick jam and toast as I grab my coat on the way out the door.

I hop into my red sierra so filled with her memories that it compels me to recall why I'm trading in this car next week. It seems foolish to run from her shadows which peek out of every corner but what else can I do? How else may I function? I start the ignition and let the roar of the engine drain my thoughts again. I'm in no rush to school for skipping breakfast gives me an extra half an hour of time to get there.

Ambitionary

I am an Ambitionary
An Ambitious Visionary
bent on on bending
All the rules that are bent on sending
Me to my "place"
For I have none.
Or rather I have one but its
Proximity to the Sun is blinding
Everyone.

An Ambitionary only sees the prize.
And I've had my eyes glued to my
Future Rise to my preferred beginning.

Vision is an integral part of any mission
You should visualize first and learn how to
Listen. If you can't see it how will you know?
When you gain it, Attain it? How will it show?
You must have a vision. You must have a dream.
You need to have seen the things you will glean,
From life.

Accordingly, Ambition is required to give you
The drive. When everyone is walking, Aspire to fly.
Become something greater than you already were
Go somewhere better than you existed before.
Grab the edges of life and never let go.
Prove all those wrong who wouldn't
Let you grow.

If you add these elements
Then you've got all the keys

Sing Pt.1

Whats My writers prerogative?

Can I sing your tapestry of life into reality?

When reality meets my tragedies can you fly with me to

the ending of an eternal beginning and begin again?

Will you sing me your misery until its mystery is history

and not yours? Fr our children will never sing of sorrow or

pain but will rain and thunder their own parades from Olympus?

Will I sing your melody of beauty?

How long can I hold a note that never ends?

When can I begin a story that has never been written?

Hanging...in the air...staying there?

Will the universe sing me into a higher being?

Artists cannot speak of artists things

for our melodies are separately constructed

of subtleties and overtones of

microphones and xylophones but

we must remember we are never alone

for the writer is singing his keyboard into

another vibration.

Somewhere there is a pen singing ink onto

a page and it must be retired, for words are

power beyond thought, yet nothing is

without sound.

...TheGift