Month: August 2012

  • there are so many days that i feel alone
    fighting invisible ghosts
    not seeing everything in front of me

    and even though these losses are real
    my failures come forward
    one by one

    talking to me
    over coffee and cigarettes
    discussing new ways
    to torture me

    as they pour cream
    and sugar into my cup
    and give new meaning to “loving spoonfuls”

    but i know the sadness is real
    i’ve seen myself on milk cartons
    next to morning bowls of frosted flakes
    shaking off vitamin d upbringings
    and cutting crusts off peanut butter sandwiches

    these mistakes
    these life events
    might just be the end of me

    i see daylight
    i see sun
    i see something down the hallway
    that resembles freedom

    and i honestly can’t tell
    if it’s death
    or rebirth
    or both choices
    standing side by side
    leaving me with decisions
    above and beyond

    my pay grade.

  • i am translucent
    see thru
    there is nothing left to hide anymore

    i cannot run
    move
    or lie

    all of it is too much
    what you see
    is what you get

    i am face value
    i am the cost of the trip
    i am the worn out penny
    from 1975

    that has been around the world
    lived
    loved
    and failed

    i am translucent
    i am see thru
    i am daylight

    fading
    and lost

    forever into darkness.

  • suicide cookies at three in the morning

    i started baking about 3 years ago
    when death showed up
    when living wasn’t important to me anymore

    three years ago
    i sat at my dining room table
    pills for pain
    for depression
    for surgery

    all this and a failing marriage
    a personal life that looked like a road map to schizophrenia
    and death
    suddenly looking so very appealing

    throw in job loss
    sterility
    and the escalation of more then a few drinks
    you have yourself a beautiful a winner
    or maybe it’s: winter.

    whatever it was
    i was alone
    counting pills at the kitchen table

    midnight
    no one to save me
    just me
    and the empty silence of my life
    gone belly up

    and in those deafening moments
    i decided to bake cookies

    because there’s only so much writing
    sitting
    and watching
    one person can do

    before hell opens up it’s doors
    and swallows you whole

    so it was suicide chocolate chip
    and each time i baked them
    i would pray
    i would loose myself in the moment

    between 3 cups of flour
    two sticks of butter
    preferably salted
    baking soda
    salt
    and chips

    but it was always at night
    all alone
    dying
    hurting
    pain
    and me

    sometimes miles davis would show up with “kinda blue”
    sometimes i could hear ryan adams
    singing “dear chicago”

    but mostly it was razor blade suitcases
    with the bottom falling out
    and my kitchenAid
    spinning out of control

    needless to say it was alot of cookies
    it still is
    it takes years to be good at baking
    years to be a good cook
    or at least respectable

    and to this day
    i find solace
    in those moments
    when i measure off my ingredients

    and look for new ways to make chocolate chip suicide cookies
    taste like i know
    what the hell i’m doing.

    recipe for suicide cookies:

    two sticks of salted butter(room temp)
    two eggs
    3/4 cup of brown sugar(dark brown taste better)
    3/4 cup of sugar
    half a teaspoon of vanilla

    mix butter, eggs and vanilla
    mix brown sugar, and white sugar together
    add in sugars slowly

    dry ingredients in separate bowl
    three cups of flour
    teaspoon of baking soda
    half a teaspoon of salt

    add in flour mixture slowly to wet ingreidents

    chocolate chips: three kinds; nestle morsels(semi sweet), mini morsels(semi sweet), Ghirardelli Chocolate Baking Chips 60% Cacao Bittersweet Chocolate—-measurement is discretionary, depends how you like your cookies.

    oven at 360 degrees
    each batch on a sheet takes about 10 minutes, varies based on your oven. don’t walk away till you know your oven.

    i recommend parchment paper or silpad. i also recommend an ice cream scooper or melon scooper with a release mechanism for the perfect size cookies.

    if you like your cookies flatter and chewier add less flour.

  • there is pain in my eyes
    sorrow in my heart
    as i leave flowers
    at my grave

    as i hold my chest
    hold life
    and consider all values

    greater then or less then zero

    nothing moves
    nothing breathes

    just mistakes
    my mistakes
    my life

    this that was

    and i am constantly told
    what to do
    what to say
    and how to say it

    i am constantly told
    who i am
    what i am about
    and if i am having a “good time”

    the choices of living a life
    led for me

    and this has nothing to do with kids
    or remedial math in the sixth grade

    or how i chose art over money
    or “what i did on my summer vacation”
    for the next five thousand years of my life

    this has nothing to do with sex
    love
    or plain closed (clothed) people
    living plain closed lives

    in a damp wet world
    that doesn’t allow anyone to take in oxygen

    unless the rate of expiration
    is above and beyond
    the level of income
    that seems to suggest
    we are all just–getting by

    this is about being
    about respect
    about heart
    about failure

    about holding someones hand
    in the rain
    when people die
    when love is needed

    when understanding
    is a simple question
    not Einstein’s theory of relativity
    not pi squared

    not cause and effect

    just meaning
    just you
    just me

    doing something more

    then yelling
    then retreating
    then giving up
    going away
    and dying

    all day
    everyday.

  • this morning
    i sit with my coffee
    my keyboard

    and the quiet lull of eddie vedder
    singing sadness

    telling me nothing is guaranteed
    and i understand this
    i hear him

    as i think about my losses
    my friend
    my life

    so much sadness
    for a such a short life
    so much sadness

    and as i put words on a screen
    i think about friendship
    and what it means to me

    maybe i am not a good friend
    maybe i am not who i said i was
    maybe
    maybe

    “i know all the roads
    but the roads do not know me
    guaranteed”

    and as the rain hits my windows
    i realize
    i am humbled
    by so many things

    especially
    the empty chaos
    of a life not led
    but chosen
    through false hope
    and empty promises

    i wish i could wake up
    and take it all back
    i am nothing
    just the cup that holds me

    like water
    filling a glass
    but only ever taking the shape
    of whatever vessel it is in

    like heaven opening it’s doors
    and you leaving
    because the perfection
    is too much
    for any one soul

    to ever handle.

  • I.
    he is awake at 7
    sometimes 6

    he stands
    opens his arms
    and cries

    i pick him up
    take him to my bed
    and lay him down next to me

    sometimes he sleeps
    sometimes he giggles
    and talks to himself

    other times he kisses me gently
    rubs my face
    and tells me it’s time to get up

    he likes routine
    he likes cheerios
    mini wheats
    and oatmeal

    he likes being outside
    and taking naps

    he loves water
    and being wet

    and if there’s a way for him to get dirty
    or get into trouble
    or push the limits of every warning
    that turns into a time out
    he will do it

    he is benjamin
    my son
    my two year old

    built for speed
    for trouble
    for playful mischief

    and random acts of kindness

    peppered with love
    big hugs
    and an occasional

    wet sloppy kiss.

    II.
    i met you thru crying eyes
    and soaked red cheeks
    that screamed of sorrow

    sitting on the floor with you in a hotel room in china
    so much trauma
    for someone so young
    so precious

    and in your hands
    you held two complimentary mints
    still sealed in their wrappers

    given to you as a distraction
    for the long car drive
    the strange people
    and elevator ride

    that probably seemed so confusing
    to someone who woke up this morning
    looking for a normal routine

    your clothes were tired
    wore out
    and your diaper needed changing

    and as i sat on the floor with you
    playing with blocks
    you smiled
    wiped your eyes
    and started your long journey

    into our family.

    III.
    you are home
    you are ours
    you are loved
    our son
    our heart
    our little boy
    forever now
    forever with us
    forever ever.

  • love is the argument
    you don’t want to have

    love is the condition
    of breaking not bending

    love is giving up everything
    in ways you never thought possible

    love is the empty tube of tooth paste
    and the toilet paper that runs out
    at the most inopportune times

    love is the late night chocolate milkshake run
    when your half asleep on the couch
    and too tired to move to your own bed

    love is forever changing
    forever complicated
    forever moving in the opposite direction

    of where you want it to go.

  • i read four stories
    we lay in bed
    side by side

    it’s a toddler bed
    my feet and legs hang off the end

    he asks questions
    like if the bear will find his home
    or why the cow is typing on a typewriter

    sometimes i answer
    other times i keep reading

    we talk
    we laugh
    he rubs his eyes
    i turn off the lights

    he asks me to stay
    we talk more
    i whisper

    he tells me about riding bikes
    and how mom gave him a “time out”

    i smile
    i listen
    i rub his back

    there is silence

    “i love you dad”

    more silence

    he sleeps

    good night sweet prince.

  • and i know this is my fault
    my problem
    my issue
    my slow decay

    depending on what day
    what time
    what life
    i know all of this

    as i look across at you
    tears in your eyes
    hatred in your heart

    and listen as you tell me

    what an asshole i am
    what a let down i have become

    over time
    over life
    over this
    that was our marriage

    i swallow pride
    swallow love
    and look down
    into my coffee cup

    asking if there’s any cream in the fridge
    knowing full well
    i don’t drink coffee

    with cream.

  • ignorance
    over bliss

    bliss over soul
    soul over love

    love
    over time

    time
    always disappearing

    never staying.