Tag Archives: pain

Nightmare Rising


The nightmares came,

And now they come again,


Two of them,

In rapid succession,

Sometimes for days,

Sometimes for weeks,

This year for months,

As the brisk November air,

Is greeted by the cool summer breeze,

Beyond belief reminding me of that sullen day in Detroit,

As sub tropical realities break through,

And painful decisions do recoil.

Torture quelling any thought other than you, as I tortured you,

As both cruel and unusual punishment,

For what did you do?

What did you do?


Your existence enough to cause your demise,

That knowledge stays with me,

And again reminds me of what  I have done,



Always has and always will,

Reminded of what power and money can do,

And people that truly don’t see,

Forest for the trees,

The misery of mental projections,

Internalized hellish trial,

Mine own,

Of my crime against humanity,

Against my own child,

C H I L D R E N,


So, so, so sorry am I,

Silent stalker of repressed emotions,

Those that I must endure,

For to do less would mean my own quietus,

The instant terror does not creep,

But leaps,

Inside my psyche and haunts my sleep,

Shaking my resolve as I awake,

The skeletons in my closet are not only proverbial,


Abstractly literal,

The symbolism of this agony,

So overpowering I am assaulted,

As a domestic abuse that I conceded,

Robbing you of life, lives,

As I did,

I did,

You live on, frightfully, inside this mind,

Torn already into three parts,

I and I and I,

With a bids eye view of what an abortion looks like,

With a front row seat,

Apparent encores without bravos,

Gashes in this weary soul, reliving the pain of a broken heart,

My greatest aspirations, taken,


Reliving time and again how it feels,

To watch the light of an unborn child,


By my hand,

By my hand?


In surreal images, lurid, prurient,

Of your mother, running toward me,

Tears welling up in her eyes,

As her shrill and piercing screams,

Command that I look at you,

As she carry you,

Both of you covered in blood,

Running down the hall of that clinic,

Its institutional walls and discrete exterior,

So perfectly recorded in every detail,

That I could walk from Toronto with my eyes closed,

Having returned to the scene of the crime since our time,

A trip that I will never forget,

And have taken again,

Closing them now,

No good, for I am here,

The Mekong calling me,

I do look, my humanity demands it,

For even as I may try not to,

I lost more than my innocence that day,

And this one that follows,

And again,

I lost the gift of life, the power of it,

Taken away by over zealous parents,

Your mothers,

Family, friends and others,

Who despite our designs,

Instead decided that they knew better,

As time passes and I reflect,

Making the same mistakes,

On the events leading up to your demise,

I beat myself up,

Raising my head to the heavens;


I embrace the raw emotions and feelings,

Knowing that I must experience this pain,

To account for the ill done against you,

And YOU,

That ill,

With a resonance that becomes master of my thoughts,

Divided, confused, scared, shocked, upset,

Berating, deflating, never abating,

For nothing would change,

Could change,

What we were forced to do,

What we chose to do,

What I said was all right,

Knowing that my solace will only arrive,

When I know your mother has again been with child,

And I too get to hold dear a child of my own,

I’m sorry,

An apology that seems vacuous now,

But it is true,

I am,





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Nothing More

In spite of the challenges,

Both real and imagined;

Bipolar realities of immense consequences,

The hope  is temporarily muddled,
Somehow, the Ether allows me the trespass,
Of these words,
Those become my mental temptress,
Outwardly manifested for you,
While inwardly struggling,
Some of sorrow,
Others of joy,
Some of delight,
While others still of pain,
Nothing more nor less,
This truth presented,
Without pretense,
At the very least none intended,
For you to see,
Can you feel this subjugation I encounter daily?

Worshipping at the syllables that make these words;

Bowing down to the thoughts,
Those force my sublimation,
Still finding the will to fight,
To carry on,
To continue this journey of greatness intended;

In spite,

Of those challenges;

For I know no other way,
I know no other means,
Fighting for my survival,
Hoping that someone out there,
Can feel this pain and find meaning in their own,
Perhaps to paint,
Make pottery,
Take a picture,
Or write words just like these;

Moreover, for those that will cast aspersions at me,

Know this,
Fully and without equivocation,
Due to you,


I will move on,
As will you,
I will press on,
As will you,
I will reemerge victorious,
All the while searching,
For a better me,
And you a better you,
Or perhaps you will still live in fear,
However, I will find,
The one I am,
All the while knowing,
That no matter my flaws,


Comedy and tragedy,
(the same be true for you)
That out there somewhere,
Toiling in the Ether,
Is a woman,
Who with nothing more than a smile,
Can free me,
Liberate me,
From this burden,
And maybe,
Just maybe,
I believe deep down,
That she may hold the key,
Mon Cle,
Mon Key,
To finally accepting,
As what I am,
A writer,
A teacher,
A lover,
A husband,
A father,
And a truly dedicated liver of life;

And nothing more.

Or perhaps much, much more!


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The Very Nearness of You!

The very nearness of you,

Knowledge of you,

That you are not a distant dream,

But instead a reality pulled,

Defies the gravitational force of light,


Slapping Newton squarely in the jaw,

Escaping  the undeniable,

Avoiding the inevitable,

As the black hole of a certain past,

Gives way to the dark matter,

Of our illuminated path,

And new each day as we discover,

The reasons we have to love each other,

Feelings, emotions and treasured desires,

Logic choking my lungs,

Asphyxiating all the reasons against,

Fueling all the reasons for,

For there is no reason,

Is there?


Save that there is…


More than one…


For this life is not a game,

Or a rehearsal,

It is lived,

In a series of moments,

Where fate, chance, destiny and serendipity open doors,

Where they do not exist and we must choose,


Whether we realize the falseness of the opening,

Is the very proof that they exist…


Open this door,

Walk through it,

Open me,

Crazy as it seems,

Crazy as it is,

Crazy as I am,

Walk through it,

Walk to me,

Walk with me,

As your eyes and smile already have,

Each time we coyly meet inside a secret garden,

To which only we have access,

For the now,

And when we can together expose,

What the world already knows,

Inside these words,

To see with their eyes,

L O V E,

Will manifest,

In ever new and wondrous ways;

For you,

For me,

For us,


Naked and restless,

Listless and wanting of nothing,

Save another moment with you.


For every moment that passes,

That you are not with me,

Is like a lifetime lived without the very essence of truth,

Your spirit,

Kissing mine,

Embracing the darkness that is so rich,

Claiming false the necessity of my brooding ways,

Hearing too the realities of my barking bitch,

This Black Dog,

Proving it,

With a tenderness that reveals all I could be,

(all I am)

If I just got out of my own way,

Allowing you to break the well crafted walls I have erected,


From the anguish of ripe cancellation,

Save but three times,

Fearing the worst both in myself,

And the abandonment that follows,

Knowing the pain of separation as only I can,

For I have been separated,

I and I and I,

Now uncovering layers like an onion,

Forcing me to cry,

Not tears of sorrow,

Instead of joy.


For tomorrow I will see you,


As this world wonders,

Why I beam

And you glow,

All the while we,

And we alone know,

The answer to the question we’ve both asked since our youth,

Swinging from the branches of the tree of life,

Ending years of strife,

Beginning anew,

Beginning with you,

Knowing it’s true, I can’t fight,

This way,

We feel inside,

I am yours

And you,

You are mine,


Ever more,

Agape love.


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Sender UpWords

Perhaps a pithy surrender is in order,
As clearly you have already forged your away across my line,
Defenseless as I consider your advance,
So I redraw in my psyche,
To prevent my own demise,
For the first time in my life doing exactly what I must do,
Fighting through the discomfort,
Fighting through the pain,
My dogged visitor,
Black as the night,
Barking and howling at the moon,
That Black Dog fights me for my own survival,
Not realizing that shall I falter,
Will mean it’s own demise,
So yes,
Perhaps a pithy surrender,
Is exactly what this tender soul requires,
Perhaps a pithy surrender,
Is the Gods cry,
That I must go on,
That this is the dawn of a new day,
Filled with opportunity and hope,
While the promise of tomorrow,
Is still the battle that I wage,
Somewhere between my rhythmic beat,
Of my murmuring heart,
And the swollen charge,
Of my minds delight,
Perhaps this swelling assault,
Is fates courteous response,
To the light that shines inside of me,
The light that was almost extinguished,
By ripe cancellation,
All that I believed,
Revealed to be a years long falsehood,
A convenience,
Though now it seems,
That I am rushing forward,
Trying to reclaim that light in me,
That so obviously presents itself here,
My history unkind,
With this troubled mind,
As I feel the divine flowing through me,
The ether,
Calling out for me to live up to that promise,
Not tomorrow,
But today,
If mankind could only understand the value of the present,
Leaving the past behind,
And the future to what is done this day,
As I sit here blushing,
Considering the macro and the micro,
My own quantum,
Thinking about what you’ve said,
Knowing what you haven’t
Oddly comfortable with the temptations,
That you inspire,
To which I aspire,
Nothing more,
Than the honesty of my soul,
The freedom to be who I have to be,
For I have no choice,
The ether commands,
So that the future is exactly what has been done today,
As every day,
And more words,
The key that removes the handcuffs,
Of this over analyzing mind,
Discovering anew,
What I require,
To be copacetic,
By my own hand,
By my own desire,
Determined to be what I am and nothing more,
And by my own design,
Writer, lover, and a better man,


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Warrior Poet Wandering

“Inside us there is something that has no name,
that something is what we are.”
Jose Saramago

I’ve returned many a time,
To this quote,
Looking for the truth that seems self evident,
Searching for the truth that is anything but,
Distorted by a disquieting falsehood,
As Warrior Poet I proclaim,
Day after day,
The scars that have led me to here,
The many mistakes made now have come home,
Like chickens to roost,
Wondering as I am wandering,
Whether I could have done anything differently,
Pondering the scars that now fester far from view,
Hidden from sight,
The scars that reveal to I and I,
Well earned though not deserved,
The internal ruptures of misfortune,
Insurmountable feelings of egregious living,
Distracted guide of my own surrender,
Tempered syllogisms of top-notch discovery,
Ripened pain,
And determined insecurity,
Professing an aggrandized knowledge of self,
Toiling in the shadows of the night,
Lanced insurrection of runaway thoughts,
Deepening the wounded pride and heart,
Of this man,
Warrior Poet,
Love’s expression resolute,
To rise above the fray,
Realizing anew the strength and conviction,
Of that something unknown,
Life affirmations and immoveable feast,
A stipend clairvoyance,
Leading to infernal retribution,
For what and why unknown,
As I have tried to live,
Fruitfully in service to this gift,
That something without a name,
That something that comes to me,
Delivered from the ether in full flight,
Blazing a trail,
Personal pioneer,
Directly to my heart,
Perpetuated by my soul,
Misunderstood by this fractured mind,
Warrior Poet,


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