I Remember Slowly

When I was a boy,

a baseball game outside,

trying to get along,

I was just being a boy,

found an edge,

a warm sort of fuzzy

disposition took me outside,

to be that boy

the baseball diamond.

I couldn’t hit the ball without

the edge,

I just needed a little push,

while everyone else grew up in unison,

I was already wrapped up in some a

artificial security,

the kind my dad modeled only with weaker results.

~

The bottle was my comfort zone,

a hit as I dashed out the breezeway,

the immediate warmth, the kick,

smooth as I let out a sigh

now I began to fly.

~

I remember seeing my dad

at the local fair,

everything and everyone

gathered there,

in their churchy sort of way

they’re all watching me today,

and my dad,

well his face was sad.

~

I do recall the bicycle ride

feeling removed from everyone

around me,

I gained speed without any notion

dying in the middle of the street

my dad, well if he knew,

he’d be kind of

disappointed.

~

I grew up realizing how everyone

around me,

preoccupied themselves

with anything but me,

so when it came to treating myself

there was no one to explain.

~

When I did drugs, I never had fun,

except that first time,

walking into the casino,

pulling the arm,

and knowing by the sound

if I was winning my new losses.

~

Sitting in a bar,

just a fresh young adult,

sipping my

manhattan transfer

while the music edged me out

of knowing how to respond.

Instead I would drink

again, the warm flow that would blanket

my exposed self.

~

I was a middle-aged man when

I came to terms with me back then.

I think of today, and recognize each way

I could return to pain and confusion.

I wanted to stay away,

but she was so attractive,

I would never imagine knowing her in any sort of way.

She was incense, she was fragrant, stubbor, and blessed

with an energy to find me  looking for myself.

I realized then I was too tired anymore.

Wise Repartee

We like to be right, you and me,

yes you, not me, only us, we all seem to

never want to agree,

instead,

we’d like to be right all the time.

or do we just want to be

ok.

A couple of years ago, I fought the urge to be wrong,

didn’t wish to ever acknowledge I could be a

lying, cheating, insolent, self-entitled, inebriated

jerk.

Funny, I wasn’t even drinking then,

just begin to imagine how truly lost my soul was,

if I even could count on that part of my being,

still existing.

When is it we truly lose our soul?

Wait on that for another moment,

let’s stick to the topic of being real, honest, truthful

about who we are

again.

We do seem to start over quite a bit, y’know.

Especially us!

I know you know, and I believe you could be alright with yourself,

if you just might let your world become the safety zone

she once believed it might be.

Back then, he didn’t have a lot of faith in anything,

and until his knuckles dragged upon the glass lined gravel

nobody anywhere really cared,

anymore.

Fascinating and amazing how suddenly people care again.

Quite right!

Besides That

The other day

I recalled sitting in a bar

drinks on the way

seeing laughter afar

.

I would wait until the moment

a fellow drinker arrived

and we’d begin our lament

how our lives were denied

.

By the pangs of society

The truths we belied

We wanted our liberty

to arrive here we sighed

.

Years have passed

since I took that last drink

I realize just how vast

my denial danced on the brink

.

of quiet disaster

living a fantasy

no room for laughter

simply a travesty

.

today I will be grateful

that I’ve found my reality

my life has become full

gradually found my sanity

.

This is my journey and I speak of solace,

That real fortune helps me seek Grace