Someday...

Someday I will become a metal butterfly
then I will fly away out into the endless star
filled sky, somewhere so very, very high
I know that it is mostly just something like
a lie because my doubts betray my lack
of ambition to even ever give it a try.

Someday, I will get up from this office chair
go away from this dirty city, I will even walk
away from this life, I will go somewhere.
I will ask that person who sits beside me
on the bus/subway/train, and he/she will
look at me in a new way and only our
collective regrets will remain as I dream
about what we will do in my lonely room
I call my brain.

Someday I will get it all so very much right
someday the this rusty caterpillar will crawl
fast enough to glow, then with a spark take
flight, And then, I will soar away from this
questionable reality to fade out of sight
you never know- someday I might.

Someday (a film)
for my brother.

Words like Gravel on the naked skin.

What she wrote is still on that crumpled piece of paper lying next to the waste
paper basket by her bed. What was written waits for the one it was meant for
unseen and unread. I wonder what she wanted to say as I look on at the signs
of her misery, the tissue cliches that surround those that find themselves at the
other end of their tethers, staring into the abyss. Do they ever stop the lining
with their collective ballpoints and wonder if it would just somehow be easier
if they were simply dead.
Where she sat that last night by the radio - in front of her laptop, behind the
locked door as I sat with my back to it on what could only have been over
looked as a somewhat cleaner floor. I would whisper although I knew she could
still her me that I had said all of it and that there was still something more
that we could be something like love yet a few shades from our lives like
that was actually something we should live for. I leaned my head back as
I wanted her to come over, open the door and take me in her arms and
tell me she still loved me and would no longer ignore the signs she was giving
that we had a chance to go on living
But all I could her was the sounds of her tears in the sobs that still haunt
me after all these years and that I let a composite of wood and cardboard
separate my desire to reach across the space, take her face in my own hands
to reassure her that her fears were misplaced. I wanted to be able to say
that there was some meaning to all the things we were feeling, that there
was still some things worth fighting for.
My words felt like naked skin on the gravel or broken shells crackling as
I wished that my tongue would speak to her needs and that the language
that flooded into my lungs would not betray my own doubts to her lips
that I wish i could still feel the impression of on my own instead of just this
lack of presence that rests like the dead in my memory. I closed my eyes
once again and long to see what was written on that discarded letter that
she wrote for me.

Regrets

There were things that should have been said
there were memories that should have stayed dead
there were words that should have stayed in my head.
Sometimes it's like I am wishing too hard undo

all the things that have already been written and read.

I find myself wishing that I could make like none of it

ever happened, like I can just turn back the clock
un-throw that rock,
return the bullet to the smoking gun
still my feet which have already run.

There were words that should have never left my lips

there were lies revealed inside the mirth of my quips

it's like drowning yourself in sadness inbetween sips

from a cracked shot glass left over from one of my trips.

Sometimes I wish that it would all burn down

then I could get out of this unfortunate dirty town

but its like I have the gas but lack the spark

so I sit here in the dark,

I will wait here where I do belong

there is no fast car in this Tracy Chapman song.

There were truths that I should have told you

there were actions we could have taken too

but I stumbled, leaving them undone, overdue.

Sometimes it's like I can see us together before

it all began to fall apart

as if it could begin again

back at the very start, then I could remember that

I still have a heart, that even in a poem a dream can come

true.

What to do when you are lost

Drink tea.
Not sure why but this seems like the first thing I would do in this situation.
It's calming, tea drinkers reflect while debating the merits of one lump or two?
If it's going to be an Earl Grey kind of day, I would rather drink another cup 
with someone like you.
Parkbenches.
There is something so comforting about sitting on a parkbench to consider the 
predicament of finding one's self alone that I would just go to the park.
Like a meditation amongst all the green things in the creation around about
as if to ask what is there to be afraid of should you find yourself out after
dark?
Play piano.
According to an expert, just hitting on the black keys of the shiny ebony,
letting your fingers drift over the sounds emanating from the melancholic box
allow the song to drive away the poisons of depression, the blues flow around
you as you find that it will bathe you, purify the soul, rest, relax and detox.
Hug someone.
For one thing, you will no longer be alone which which make you feel some 
emotions akin to the idea that you have at last been somewhere-have been found
then hand in hand, watch a sunset and remember that you got lost just so
you could come back here and see if I was still waiting to see if you were 
coming back around.
Kiss me,
then you will know a truth that is easy to see
we are all lost until we realize that it really
is just a way to let it all go and be free.

Afterwards

The sun still sits high out in the cloudless sky
the road, always the road, is empty, undriven
unlike my soul as I stand there a moment in the dust
wondering once again why my world has ended
as if the tears that wet my face is not enough to
remind me everytime I cry...

Days are like this out there in this wasteland
when the rain was burned from the heavens
the people I knew were lost to the ravages of
the passages of time like pages of the books
as they burned and the memory that I once had
is gone, like all the dreams that we had planned.

Hours have lost meaning in this post apocalyptic
form  of dreaming, was it all that like that when
mans wars came to the sudden and swift end
then all the arguments we shared fell away like
ashes in the wind as the world was laid bare
to the ruin that was all at once both simple
and tragically cryptic.

The moon is down, no longer to greet me in the night
the stars will look down pitiless in their flaming
paths through the wonder and awe that I can
only imagine down here on earth as they drift over
my head still out of reach. One day, I will reach
up with my soul and trace my fingers in their current
slipping away into the endless light.

"What is lost" followup

I just watched this video that inspired the "What is lost" poem.

So here's the video:

It's interesting to me (anyway), that what they say about their song is very similar to what I have said about the poem.

here's the poem:

What is Lost...

It's sometime in the morning, somewhere before the dawn

breaks into the twilight that comes after the moon

passes from the cloudy skies obscuring the stars

that were there before I went to sleep knowing that

there would be something I had lost when the light

comes creeping into my bed room and I can still

stand the empty sheets

the place where you would have slept, 

the fears that you could have kept 

the moments of doubt that were left

are all I have now here bereft of 

my tears like echoes of "I love yous".

It's like memories of a relationship in my dreams

falling soft like feathers fluttering through my mind

like the words that fall from my lips like drops of rain

meanings without implications, desires midst the need

that you wanted from me and were lost when I stopped

trying to fight from the minute that is all I have left 

to blame in the end

All the ink and all the paper on the table

all the justifications, all reasons to enable

all the maybes and all the endearments fail

I am alone and I cannot offer any apology

that is not static, repeated or stale.

the ones that I have loved are now all that

I have lost, it wasn't old nor was it anything

that I believed to be true- 

it was more like my whisper that I wanted to

to find what was constant, what could have

been as simple as saying

I love you.

I say...you say...

I say that you are the one that I want
without knowing who you are and
then where you will be coming from
and yes, I am a little bit afraid that
when it finally happens that you will
just walk on by me and that I will still
be alone.
You say that I am the type of man that
you have been waiting for all your life.
Am I going to meet the expectations?
Am I the one you will find at the end of
your day after all the madness and all of
the sadness, will be what you want to
call your own?
I say that I was meant to be for someone
just like you that love and gladness would
replace the rainy overcast minutes between
the moments of laughter and the brilliant
bursts of wild disaster that comes with the
exhilaration that changes everything like
our first kiss, the seconds tick by as we
stand together, can the idea of "US" be
engraved in stone.
You say that you can't remember what it
was like before I came along as if our
romance was captured in some catchy
love song. I laugh at you look of irony
but somehow I still think that this feeling
is wrong, that I will open my eyes and
find that you are gone.