Friday, October 31, 2014

Astray



October 26, 2014

The soft air kissed my cheeks
As I stroll here this cold morning
In late October, the end of season
As haunting as Halloween,
Filled with ghosts and goblins
Of a life I never meant to lead
The misdirection of misplaced steps
We take when we meant to go
In another direction, and yet
No so misguided as we believe
As we are shaken from those
Early morning dreams when we
Imagine the worst and come to realize
That our steps lead us not so much
Astray but rather where
We were meant to be,
And accepting the path
We find ourselves on
Is the hardest part of being alive

And yet, the most fulfilling.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

In the silence





Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Rain drips down the wooden fence
Leaving dark scars on its face
As the trees lean over waiting to change
This pre-color time of year
When we ache for change to come
Cool air swirling around us
With just enough hint of summer
To remember it
I hear the voice of winter
In the distant rumble of surf
And in the altered sound of traffic
And the sudden quiet
Of end of season brings to the seashore,
These things stand out against
The usually hectic soundscape
So that they seem loud
When they are not,
Our lives are like that,
Loudest in the lulls,
When we can hear ourselves thinking
The way we hear the tick of a clock
Always there, but never obvious
As we search for meaning,
No more nor less than they ever were,
The ghost in the machine
The moving parts
We do not wish to know about
But get consumed with

When all else falls silent.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Echoes



Saturday, October 25, 2014

History repeats itself inside my head
Like echoes in a canyon
Long after the initial shout
Losing at last what the shout was about
And so we read into what we hear
Imagining what it is we felt
When we let the fell words fall,
And translate that which we thought
We said into what we need said now
Feeling from it what we need to feel,
Not exactly what we felt at the start,
Thinking the whole time
How nothing has changed
When everything always does,
And when we shout again
Our new shout falls on ears
We know might never hear
What is we actually said.



Sunday, October 19, 2014

Sea Side Asbury Park





Sunday, October 19, 2014

I dip my fingers in this salty foam,
This sea side slick water beach
Stretched out before m
Timeless until I glimpse
Over my shoulder at the shore
And the grin of a boardwalk
With its missing teeth
And the sense that it
Can never smile again
Air thick with the recalled screeches
Of kids on rides long gone,
The tilt-a-whirl with caught shirt
And the kid who never thought
The ride would vanish
Before the people did,
Or that the decay
Would strike so deep
or leave holes no one could fill
With only the sea itself the same
Coming and going,
In and out,
With perpetual sighs
And the salty residue
Of some love vanquished
The end of the world
As we know it,
The roar of engines
Mere echoes of a past
We can barely hear
Over the snores of the tides
And we caught
In the mists wondering
Where to dip our fingers next.