sickle cell insecurity there’s nothing left for you to see 

every image naturally displayed has been painted, written, or somehow conveyed. 
let’s climb inside the last twenty four hour slide rising to find that i can’t confide in anyone 

the torture thoughts alone 

it’s why i listen to music and moan 

to drowned out the hum of ‘i’m doing okay’ while ruminating on five minute chunks of my day i was getting water while mindlessly speaking did i leak that consideration that i might be peaking into painful exchanges the dark hallow spaces of passionate paces my mind races clinging to find phrases that won’t make you uncomfortable it’s not you i want, 

i already have 

nothing

it’s an agreement we made to always try because we share a similar, wrong, an opposite manner to reach the floor and suspend the door for kids no more are reading my heart in panic rhythms seeing the flesh it’s the frantic systems that left them alone in this room with me who trusts that i can help the plea-shout of ‘get out’ and leave before the clouds come to say that black is your enemy and fright is a trend in need of this thing that enters my thoughts i desperately tamp using daylight lamps and light it up and let it out by myself alone this doubt that i belong waking amongst you with these easily read emotions cut forth and laid out potions of somewhat caustic grout, my seams need filling or you’ll witness a crash either covered in white powder or red blades time fades let’s get back together before they know the undertow and gravity of these trembling tragedies i give them names and sort them while glazed discussing the weather in this relationship maze let me go it’s not fair. bullshit it’s despair learn to repair the scenes that played out when you had no choice 

that’s easy enough 

to figure eight fly that kite and wish you may wish you might there’s no fucking stars falling for you it’s packing it up and dropping off never look back. yah, it sucks that i died away so quick that we can’t relate or i’ll crumble. know my head nod and muffled mumble is me saying i understand. 

you can’t know. 

how surprised you may be if you knew how vain and important and right and perfect i am while i consider slashing apart everything within from frustration working to find a balance of how to convey this. 

woody woodpecker wouldn’t have liked me i just know it 

i sunk my fingers childlike into my eyes pushing too hard, rebounding out of the cosmic jelly fading from black into reality as i wait for my bowl of life to perfectly sog each square for a satisfying mouthful of crunch and goo sitting cross legged on a shag carpet square matted with broken popcorn and the neighbor girls hair wondering if i stared long enough into the box i could be my own cartoon fox i’d wear a sly smile and carry a cane a vulpes gene kelly singing in the rain at the end of every episode i’d give a wink and nod, “see you next time” 

the crashing sound from the next room snapped me out of that daydream loom and that fucking laugh ended the show fading out it was time to go, i know, my ‘god damn’ shoes, still wet from yesterday’s walk to this house, my daily douse of reasons to lace up and head to school. i have my own desk there, people ask me questions with less of a stare, when i shake they notice. i don’t say much. not sure how to thank you, yet i can slip into the world of history, a greek tragedy and can you believe we can link words that rhyme, i understand how to get three from nine and lunches although square are warm. there was a fire alarm once, it scared me, everyone knew where to go, i followed, we huddled together until the bell rang again. it was cool. 

farms are burning 

sights are merging 

into masses of char 

we won’t have to go far 

to visit the view

black lit hue

huddled next to only a few who had the ability for upward mobility and that idea of pulling anything to get up is lost in a triangle structure it’s where you’re born is where you’ll stay the travel ban isn’t an idea, it wasn’t the media it’s gun clips and ammo, cigarettes tossed and camo, forgetting we collectively are mammals

vegas is brought to our home with sunday picks and bastardized wine is a cup with mix i lost the south watching gone with the wind and that city known for strong breezes, i’ll play grand theft auto in-between sneezes that were brought on by recycled air delivering my groceries no prices to compare i left for montana i was told i could be a tycoon, but they diverted all flights to the moon and europe is blasting, india’s fasting, i can’t walk down the block these friendships aren’t lasting yard signs litter our lens to see the staging of life in a new reality lost in complaining winter is raining our sinister drenched skeptical minds is all that’s remaining

i hopped in my car

the batteries dead

i opened a photo album to find you instead 

my sense of touch is famished as i stare at the glow of a tv set, reminded there’s one thing i haven’t met

and slip silently shutting the scarlet shutters and relieve this debt

Simplified versions of recipes cutting out ingredients 
that might just be important

don’t do it

don’t have me if you can’t attest to uncomfortable walks where i unzip my vest for dramatic affect and fire back how much of a wreck you are at certain times and events weakness walking wailing i refuse to be near you neighbors out mowing with dogs can’t tell if we’re together twenty feet between us admiring landscape knowing this force field prevents a one act easily identified play of hearts that fade death drama displayed a silent movie anyone whose ever wanted to move forward and grow with another person has spent time forgetting their not at home while emotions unfold why should the walls contain our expressions it’s then the taboo and sneak attack boos get called a new name. nope, you pissed me off two blocks from our bed and rather then wrestle alone in my head hiding, we heal while hollering. it’s not names we call, it’s general frustration normal temptation. it’s ok. we feel. hush don’t say a word people might think that’s a cuss they heard or, oh no, they witnessed my bird. pent up and exploding shakes walls, while hiding and hustling down halls ensures we will eventually fall. bite my tongue i was taught to do, i can’t while honestly loving you. 

you won’t find me in yemen

i have no reason to go, yet

you may have to search for me in the second round of torture rows that froze my nose in areas of those who decided it was better to paint my portrait than flip a fortune for when a friend comes up to me and asks for that one time flat fee i wash my hands and give them away, that’s not how i extend my hands these days it’s paper machete fantasies whistling by your grave and hoping it’s not only kentucky fried chicken that left me a slave without you to pretend i have an enemy as he galvanizes a country over a common threat wars of the past have turned to ideas and tan faces he’s a martyr for us all it’s just that we are too stuck to hear the call that one man shouldn’t have this much gall. he’s screamingly sarcastic winter marches matches and no one can pick those latches to freedom it’s a consumption of ourself that shackles our hands holding that screen making reversible plans discipline without this again trapped in steam room situations barely making out who comes to see us these days with lock doors drowning demented decals growling stay away in gay and this levitation you see is the only way cataclysm at baptism water to sustain and all you did was watch the drain and let us piss away in the falling rain. 

The following is a poem from Amelia Mae, our 10 year old daughter

Snow Come!

Rainy days are no fun,

Waiting for the warm sun,

But when it gets below 30 degrees,

Everything starts to freeze.

And when it is done and the weather clears,

you look outside and snow appears!

Laughing and playing with snowmen galore

Makes you wonder if there is school anymore.

There is so much snow everywhere

That school closes and locks up your empty chair.

And everyone stares

At the snow milky white,

As soft as a cloud

Shimmering under the bright sun being proud

You roll around happy and free,

And that is why I want snow to visit me.

I tend to think in lyric and motion

people getting from here to there, mostly by foot and with every situation comes a song, something from the past, a connection, the sail climbing up the mast on SS humanity setting in motion cross ocean travels to be more descriptive with the vultures they swoop from nest and gobble our pray carrion rotting one more day or way and whose to say whether the temperature rising is what we need to sort out it’s more of this flashing feeling of guilt that we should doubt with missiles aimed and jock straps adjusted spit that shit and let’s hit business the swipe of a jaw is easier to unthaw in history rather than a conversation bleeding the typist and her mystery of who and where it was honest and fair i swear we counted to one,two, three before wiping those people to their destiny without a final plea or calling of Uncle sam how do you do it’s crossword puzzle antics confusing my soul you lost me with that final dice roll when sixes meant nothing and talents were spoiled so you could loom at reflections with a wink and nod the past is rich with stories to repeat pick the pitch to finally defeat the one who sits stationary never moving mary the Saturday paper gave us garbage to collect i’m neglecting a theme trompsing through shotty rhythm with no scheme it must be monday and i can’t see a way that this will be acceptable. i have to let it go the jumbled thoughts causing me to wonder about you

staircases were the worst
you ran 
i counted 

well rehearsed

everything left to its own pace

i found comfort in your jean pockets

why so fast?

i mean, it was our usual

me, behind you.

every day.

the door was always closed when i got there 

a simple twist and push brought me into heavy situations set up for years in our misinterpretation of what becoming one meant

we sucked at math

thanks for leaving it unlocked

there was that, at least

i was cautious, but continued the game peering the corner searching for more it was the sound of the door scraping the floor and then there it was

i was met with that vacant stare

a shake of your head and glance back down

were you surprised, or reminded?

the mail couldn’t of been that interesting

shuffling through

i walk by, open the fridge and grab a bite of yesterday 

you click past, your motions splashed an anxious flash transferred and spun through to me. 

we still pass forks and know who’s turn it is for dishes.

paper plates are piling up.

i’m not without a part

i didn’t take you up on your count to three race to the door

we did that years before

both panting at the top

taking turns being polite

“after you”, 

you’d welcome with your stretched wide smile from both eyes 

home

who cares about the piles of bills

take out drivers delivered our meals

time and ritual didn’t dictate when we found our sheets, it, also, wasn’t always in bed

nice and neat

moments of remembering turned to rip flip renderings of flesh seeking souls pressing passion filling the hole and completing this role, a goal, to reach down and know we’re whole

we were good then

i didn’t worry

and never had time to notice

the crumpled bandana 

you carried

in your back right pocket

when did you decide to raise the question of how we had been getting on these days with doorsteps hopped over and windows left open i drearily drip your passions in a cup for one this isn’t fun anymore the way you find the floor without bending to make certain you’ll be caught and teenage corner posts handing out schemes and facades to freckled bystanders who wish they could decide transferring power to a jacket and hat with nothing left honey i got your back dropping an accent attack so they think i’m down to get up and then fall flat through their glass table stained with chalk residue a final taste to glue this night of burned feathers and pill popping crews blasted pupils pumping, gathering the light it’s darkness we’re covering to stay out of sight suspend me please i need a reason to blame and stand with this huddle all the same 

hand curved out is it foil or cellophane that will enter my brain twisting colors and figures pop culture miniatures mixing well with the mood of fluidity i have to adjust your altering me then i stepped out and left this ring of greed pushing plasma slosh stingrays suspended under our feet hands down finding a seat. i have to get out. you kept repeating until your heart stopped beating. 

*and three randoms that filtered out:

‘standing in the shadows’

i remember jessica simpson’s sister singing this song about being jessica’s simpson’s sister and wanting her own name 

i don’t know it.

i know what people have called me throughout this forty year history from peanut to johnny and mayo most recently, well, that is mayopolis rutherford jones iii if you’re into the brevity like the dude would say friends that gather to pick and play when shoes sink in wood tick fields grass catching in our socks while we face the trees running faster to feel the breeze fade as we nest in the ferns splayed towering birch leaning to gather shade for the heat we felt when desires to gather in grey this is not the place we went with giants roaring, lurking for the touch to find when i’ll be back crawling into a cave with disrespect john kennedy was jack and his car got wrecked i listened to the travel ban 
lifting the soil to turn over a fresh view for life to suck in and take the few that want out of this world so desperately a final plea for balance 
not much got in the way of giants as they stomped their way through last monday afternoon the abandoning of a game that was not in their hands and then we went back to our hollow house to hear what was haunting our heroes,the way we were found out in the rain while passing through another night of temperature raised moments friction and blinking a lightning storm shrinking all that could have been buried by the soundscape leaving everyone squinting try not to enter when feeling this way figuring you’d left limping last year languid 

they hopscotched one another’s heart and learned the lesson that couldn’t start until finally breaking everything apart so they could reassemble 
it took time to listen and stop for the glisten that moistened eyes give in times of missing the ones we reach to when nights pull a lonely string leaving a melody in the distance trapped in a single note humming over and over, vibrating and finally catching rhythm while i crawl away slogging through stations i need to wash out this stuttered feeling this drone of meaning 

i figured a crash cycle with certainty would create a new identity looking at me must be tough knowing i can’t tell what’s enough of where you want this conversation to go i’ll continue to wake up in trains hoping this time the lips i left lingering while i laid on the floor will wait for me to rise up, i need regularity. how do they do it? those others, who stretch and move shuffle through and groove always getting approved for dendrite deduction cell reproduction and i’m stuck not understanding my own destruction or definitions of words i use they sound nice so i leave everyone confused hoping they feel me instead of understand this babble of rhyme that sometimes catches time it’s a device to work through the shit in my mind that left unattended will leave me blind cluttered concepts chunking up my ability to drive straight perhaps i could sit at home and figure fate would deviate me from this rocky road. i do like ice cream though.