Deep sea

The gentle reassurance of a child's laughter. Joy blossoming like a young boy on Christmas Eve eager with anticipation. A rain on a summer day that makes steam form on top of black concrete. So I was thinking we could share a deep sea of blankets, maybe you'd be interested...

July 9th

And most of the time, I confuse what I mean to say with what I actually say. It's always hard trying to help someone understand the vision you are proposing. Maybe they are hesitant to believe that it can work. But for the one with that thought, well, they know in their truest heart that they believe it. Words can only do so much, and maybe that's where my plan goes off the tracks. Or it could be likely that she just isn't interested anymore. And that's a pill more difficult to swallow than that one time in.ninth grade where I gave six months of my life to a coach who ultimately decided I wasn't good enough to be on the team. It stings like an angry wasp chasing after a young boy whose childish game went one stone throw to far.
If you are interested in someone, you might as well tell them. People never get the flowers while they can still smell them.
So here it is; a toast. A toast to whatever may come of this situation. Stormy weather or picturesque day, it will all work out.

Midnight

Cycling in the dark.
Two friends going on a midnight voyage.
Grown men getting paid to ride bikes under a star filled blanket.
A passing breeze being the only refreshing part of the entire day.
Time spent talking about the serial killers that probably lay hidden in these Nisswa forests.
What it will be like walking out of that airport terminal and back into our previous lives.
And at the end of the night time ride, they arrived at the destination.
Calum would go his separate way, and there she was.
Waiting.
European clothed girl under a green lantern. With a smile and a wink she called my name out.
And I swear that if I had any demons to fight, she could expel the battle.
End a war with her mere presence.
A million constellations lay up above. But they will never compare to her beauty.
Cycling in the dark.

Boxcar racer

Sometimes

I wish I was brave

I wish I was stronger

I wish I could feel no pain

I wish I was young 

I wish I was shy

I wish I was honest

I wish I was you not I

'Cause

I feel so mad

I feel so angry

I feel so callous

So lost, confused, again

I feel so cheap

So used, unfaithful

End point

Growing Bermuda beneath my feet

Tell me the tale of how we meet

Where expanding footsteps begin a journey

And growing honeysuckle is drenched after a pouring

All roads come to an eventual end

Until you find a new place from which to begin

I'll search high and low, and recoup from the past

Knowing that time is all that will last

I'll wither the storm, and emerge through the flames

Weilding the scars that remember her name

I'm not a poet, or someone who can write

Just a worn  man searching for meaning in life

....

The past is only the future with the lights on.

Chapter XIII

My best laid plans

Will build and break your heart

Her guilty hands

Tear my whole world apart

My mind keeps racing

She's softly dreaming

I'm scraped and sober

But there's no one listening