Caught in the rain

I know this was all my idea...
Never have been one to watch the sky for change.
Though, I have wasted some sunny days,
anticipating rain.
And I have shunned some happinesses,
because of imagined pain.
So, when I left my house to stretch,
both life and limb, and step outside
to breath a while, I was certain,
positive even, that I wouldn't need my
rain coat.

I'm not sure, but I think I've seen this ending before...

head down, feet forward.
eyes on the prize and the prize on the mind.
conservancy is the name of the game,
unless it's time we're wasting,
time we kill.
there will always be plenty of that.
so spend freely, little children,
spend and don't look back.

everything is fine, don't you pay no mind.
to the wreck that we leave behind,
it's not your fault and it's not mine

change is on the wings of the winds,
and the whole earth tosses and turns.
but how do you prepare for a life,
when the only life we've learned
is behind the next door?
when my only virtue seems to be hearalded
for always moving on, but not stopping
in the tracks of some Other Beauty

This time

Struggle.
Life begins with a struggle.
And, I'm told, it ends with one, too.
I'm looking at my empty hand,
and I believe it is true.
I'm seeing words I've longed to hear,
echoed in just the right way.
Things that have gone so long undisturbed,
and so I thought that they were
under control somehow, some way.
Why you? Why now? Why this?
So many crashes, and not enough time between.
I'm trying to keep my head.
But it's spinning,
and all I want is what will bring me down.
I am my worst enemy.
And so, I struggle.
Life begins like this.
and, I'm told, it ends like this, too.

Row row row

Bird's wings outgrow me,
in these old things,
I left your treasures
out in the backyard.
Just as you told me
in the warm breeze
of the summer that's
only gone by.

Even though winter's so cold
and no hands to hold,
we'll hold on so tight
to the thought,
of what we're both waiting for.

Frost on the panes,
curling the leaves in its grasp
your frost bitten breath
holding me tight where I'm at
It doesn't seem fair
do you think?
The time we spend just to wait
but I'll keep on waiting...

Happiness Was Made for You

I recall when I said it was clear,
that you never answered me, my dear
'cause it's all very good and well for you,
it's true, life is better with two.

so I hear, so I hear
is that you knocking dear?
or is my heart playing tricks again?

Oh, it's true,
how the world spins just for two
nothing else comes close,
to the red just like the rose,
he gave to you.
not for me, happiness was made for you

forever, friends, is not so long, it seems,
when it comes to forces this strong and mean
but I just thought that this time I knew
that this was one I couldn't lose

love I hear, love is here
I know my heart is breaking here
but my heart won't play tricks anymore

Because sometimes, I'm still about 7 years old...

"Words are too limited" -Sherman Alexie

Truth.
I think about it.
I remember getting into fights when I was little, and feeling dumb.
Dumb because I couldn't conjure up enough words to spar back and forth adequately.
I couldn't keep up the pace, you know? Trying to display whatever grievance or displeasure into a steady stream of congruent unpleasantness that would "win" whatever silly fight I had picked. Maybe, just maybe, I was afraid to actually give it a whirl. To try and find out that I was really good at it, only to discover that in being good at it I hurt everyone irreparably. Maybe because I learned early on that words hurt more than any bruise. Cut deeper than any scrape. And stung longer than anything I'd ever felt.
"Use your words", "You've gotta come up with something better than that", "Is that all?" -- NO, it most certainly is not. And no, I can't come up with something better, if I could, I would. And every time I use my words, things get lost in translation.
We, I, say things all day long. All the live-long-day. But do we actually say the things we mean? The things going on inside? Do we EVER really say them? Can we?
It's like...the things that go on inside our insides, are these complex sculptures, like those weird bulbous artistic kind of sculptures that nobody really knows what it is, except the person who made it. And so, we take words, like taking a needle to a balloon, and we exchange this complex 3-D thing, for a 2-D (arguably, anyway) flat, spelled-out word.
Does that do it justice?
Words, really, aren't enough.

Effervescence

i see the moon hiding stars in the sky;
lighting the way, through ubiquitous night.
also with you, though try as i might,
you're outshining all, as you're lighting my eyes.

clouds rolling on,
the season comes home.
watching tonight,
when i'm all alone.

the tide's rolling in and the cove's full again,
everything is right now, deep peace from within.
so outside you, i'm depleted and thin
and i wait for the day when i'm with you again.