Filler

Drunk with exhaustion
I stumble through the nights
Weary and in shambles
Creating incoherent dreams

Dragging my feet
Feeling an invisible march
Beyond physical tiredness
And mental demise

Stress is the pillow
I lie my heavy head upon
Clocks blurry the passed time
That worry calls me on

Anxiety overridden
Eating me alive
Since insides are only filler
Held up by my shadow

Tall Bow

Bending like a flower

Bending like a bow

But it’s the bending on and on

That endures the lows

Musical notes flutter around

Heart beats fluid and strong

But it’s the consistent beat

That keeps a common bond

Who I was years ago and

Who I am now and today

Thinks about that person

Who was and is just different

In light, in airy, in heavy ways

I still stand taller

I can laugh harder

My dreams are fewer

And I still carry on sharper

You Bounce

The timing itself is never right
You never stand still enough
To catch up with mine

I enjoy your mind just so
You keep things bouncing
With a quick word and go

Wondering what isn't heavy
These things that are spoken
Keeping the lightness maybe

This passion for life; its dancing
Your experiences are inspiration
For dreams and plans you bring

What feeds me in my soul
You have a knack in wanderlust
It keeps me in the clouds meandering

Just to pick it apart I dream
Over tea and your strings
Bouncing  in on my days

New Me

The old me the one me

Is within me

My habits die hard

Because they don’t breathe

My habits tell stories

That don’t match my smile

My stories keep on churning

Unmatched with old guile

Simple words and moments

And the faces they match

Spring up like a fountain for

Memories your ears catch

The old me is not new

Buried deep in there

Back being guarded always

With no habits to care

The Day

The day the day
how it gathered
as it went

I was halfway crass
and cruel in my tone
Something escapes me
or something has gone
Missing

I miss my old me
most times
When I didn't have time
to wallow in remembering
to keep it all
together

Each sharing of words is
like a glue
it keeps my face
on just straight
Staying awake in
everyday life

Fine Time

Some of the time
it's a movie reel I've seen
To remember the moving
pictures in the moments
I can compare the feel

Of the yesteryear and
glimpses of today for
the tomorrow I hope to have
So my future-self can
reminisce in every memory

The actors in the movies all
play their parts
well just like these
in my life

Much of it is taken in that
way props decorated convey
The dirty corner
that catches
my eye
stands for many things-
neglected, unkempt,
in need of expertise

Some actors feel
they fit them
finely and free

Just as the loneliness washes
over so slowly
the silent screaming
is there

We're all trained in reaction-
with a smile on my face

Oh Mister

Mister Possibilities
You always come to
haunt me
I follow you so easily
down a rabbit hole
or two
But whatever dreams
may bring is all I see
Any inkling of feelings
hold me in your second

Oh Mister Possibilities
You are what you
seem to be
Achieve a glimmer of
hope in my own
impossibilities
What once was
could never again be
And even what once
never fruited anything
Still haunts me

Oh Mister Possibilities
you always send me
dreaming
To visit a past moment
stuck in vivid memories
But what I remember
is not at all
the reality

Because Mister Possibilities
you have only
let downs
for me
Hell, then, because of what
was said
What is daunting me is
just a mirage
gone in a second I see

Mister Possibilities
you bring me dreams
I unwillingly follow
And end up in misery
Please
Please

Mister Possibilities
Don't bring me a treat
Don't give me a scene
Just leave me be
in day's normal routine

Westward Muse

My muse, my muse, my muse has gone astray. Gone westward and gone there to stay. When looking I don't find, When speaking I don't hear, Familiar musings so I could tilt my ear. And the thickness of the days each Gone with the sun and ended incomplete. When remembering I see, When storytelling I doubt, Times of sharing tea remain, singularly. Old arts and myths can collide And find me taken back to that time: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Unbearable Lightness of Being, Stories of these unfold in my mind.

driving

Driving nice in silence
Jazz me up with your fast acts
Slip of the tongue
In a sneaky masquerade

Don't give my heart or heartstrings
any whipping whiplash
Don't get mixed up in the background
Listening to all backsplash

Fall Moment

My hands get needy
when my thoughts get graspy
and I ponder for a second
about a wary predicament

Funny how your biggest
adversary is always yourself
but not funnier than being
yourself and lying the thickest

My racing brainwaves go in
patterns and thoughts to circles
and I wonder negatively again
about self-pain incurred

Speaking up does just as much
as quietly revolving does
both for deflecting and
earning good and bad was