4/20/15

Hollow reverberations adrift in a shallow, dead, salty brine of a lake,
Sucking the life from the soil, bursting its breath, a moon beam,
Floating away on a limb of a once proud coniferous, asphyxiated,
Ripples from an unknown origin changing the very direction of its path,
Incurable and nearly meaningless, these patterns interrupt a primal striving,
A hope of a kind, disrupted and reconfigured, re-contextualized, reiterated,
Bled from the very being that birthed it forth and raised it up,
Quartered and drawn forth for the sake of something misunderstood.

To put this out is to never go back,
Reaching into a known snare to feel again,
Familiar and comforting yet still a vice,
Reviving and reconstructing years of work,
Only to be done again and again and again.

4/9/15

When the edge of my uncertainty shaves you away from me in a jittery pace,
            a depth of weight becomes increasingly reciprocal to that daily race,
the balances of the judge ripping me yet further from your embrace,
       with The Dream bending at its foundation shattering past each case.

I feel as though I am constantly searching for the next best idea for my own,
        personal development as a man, a husband, brother, and uncle,
whilst neglecting the only one who can truly help me reach my ideal goal for,
                                   who I am trying to be.

Then a premonition overcomes and engulfs me from behind blackly.
We delve into the schema that we are unhappy with where we are despite knowing it is really the enslavement of employment that has become the poison thorn keeping me from you.
Then the fear of leaving my family is there to truncate the growth of The Dream, too.