Gazebo (first draft) 9/2/14

This is a first draft, no edits.  Typed directly into my iPhone as the words shot through my brain within 5 minutes and was gone...

Gazebo   9/2/14

And if we were a couple

A couple of what I don't know

We could sit in the gazebo

And imagine sgt pepper

Teaching the band to play.

But that was more than 20 years ago

And god knows where all that time did go

But we lost it forever and can

Never get it back.

And the moon is proudly shining

Over the water on the harbor

And I'm sitting in the gazebo

Waiting for my song to play.

And I don't know if I believe

In love or fate or destiny

Or if everything is entropy

Just spinning out towards the sun.

I just know I can't sit here forever

Forgetting about my passions

Silently waiting for my life

To just someday reappear 

on the event horizon 

Like this imaginary band

In the gazebo of the mind.

Bottle

So, I've been pre-meditating a poetry/essay chapbook for a few months now (the original target date was my 40th birthday, which has now come and gone), and I'm closing in on finishing up.  Obviously, I should keep some of the contents off the internet, so that there is a reason for folks to bring home a copy of the physical object.  Conversely, I should post something on the internet to drum up interest.  I'm going to try and post a few things to drum up interest, and this is the first of those things.  Try not to read too much into it.

Bottle 5/29/13

You looked for inspiration in a bottle

because it's hard to look inside yourself.

All you can see are the mistakes and failures

because it's hard to see much else.

You settled for mediocrity and comfort

because it's hard to reach for the stars

when all you can see are the mistakes and failures

from looking inside yourself so hard.

So you looked for salvation in a bottle,

because it's hard to take all the blame

for all the mistakes and the failures

that you can't seem to or want to transcend...

How much was the bottle and how much was you,

that got yourself stuck in the town you once fled

with no short-term plans for escape

from your newfound uncomfortable mediocrity?

And when the dust settled after the crash

all you could hear was shattering glass,

crystallizing your mistakes and failures

into a single moment you can't undo.

Maybe you shouldn't have texted the words

"BTW, I am awesome at life..."

from underneath an empty bottle.