155. Round stepping stones

Hey everyone.

First I'd like to say thank you to everyone who reads this. Just recently I've been actually recognizing that people do read this silly thing. It means a lot to know that you are placing your eyes where my heart and mind has been. So with that said...thank you, I'm humbled.


I haven't written one in a while. Victor sort of inspired me to throw caution to the wind with this. Thank you Victor.


Yesterday I started a letter
to let her-know how I was beating;
fairing to fairplay the dawn and picture us
from upon what was once known as a dream.
It would seem to be smooth until the band had to move
and there was no more music coming from your words
and verbs turned into nouns and stationary objects
and the object was to sit frozen;
the world has stopped now that you're not here
and you cant hear...you became deaf
when you left me to not have the chance to explain
the happenings that happened in the midst of rumored thought.
half my soul was sold to the devil
and the other half to a levee-i heard it was dry
and when they found out how much i cry
they paid me in gratitude
for the help and refill thanks to this discouraged attitude
which has me nailed horizontal to the ground helping the earth's latitude...
become longer.
so i shall stay somber only long enough to teach myself something-
how to cry. because if tears don't flood this page
i hope the ocean ive just created can turn to a drought throughout age
and if only my teardrops could be kept in this steel cage...
but they keep falling out
and all the while im imagining that i still have no doubt
to doubt that tears can be held in by bars
and i sit here strumming the strings of a lonely guitar
while it gently weeps
ill pray that everything i ever let out i can find again and keep
because when its lost you're the boss and when its found im around
and im me but right now me is gone- so i keep writing a sad song
and sending it in packages that are 20 miles long
to go along with routine of looking up at the stars and wishing
still on my path of persistence but now i notice street signs are missing.
it hurts to know that i can't take back all that i gave you
i am stuck in this haze knowing i gave all i had just to save you
without air and without reason
you've got me on trial for something close to treason
and making me move and shake just like a tree during the fall season.
but its clear to see that you...
you aren't mad at me, really.
you are mad at the world for placing our building blocks to love in a windy city.
so look me in the eyes and watch the water jewels escape
as you rape my being away by mistake.
my bold vision tools once held fire
so i hired an arson to get it back.
please hurry, mr., with your match,
strike it fast or watch me drown
by the pound of sadness placed on my crown.
i use this poem as the tissue for my cheeks
and tears are for the weak- strong
strength. held up by internal power
and i still check the clock every hour
hoping that its broken and hoping time has become a token
that i can control.
i don't control a thing
im a puppet on a lonely string
and you remain the victim.
so i remain the builder
building walls of sand
and they are in high demand.
nothing gold can stay...
and i will curse the day...
i will curse the world...
i have cursed the world.





deep breath.