Fate

Fate is a fickle beast

only fools

can try to tame 

we can try to blame

heartbreak

on time and circumstance

on the off chance that

turning clocks will renegotiate 

the loss

but time is only the scribe 

of Fate 

circumstance the pen

that Fate fills with red ink

leaving us to think 

only about the blood pumping 

through shattered veins 

thinking about losses and gains

and pain management 

a whole life spent

hoping Fate will

changes its ways

always truly knowing 

Fate will keep on going

exactly as it always has 

Growing tree.

When you take the time to look

At all the things you took 

For granted

By vision slanted

From heavy expectations

And childlike idealizations 

Of what the world should be

Too blind to see

That there is no rhyme or reasoning

To being

Life is not the destinations 

It's the contemplations

Made during the journey  

The laughter and the worry 

When the night is darkest

When the mean reds are starkest

When the green brings madness

When the blue brings sadness

When the sun is so bright 

All you see is the light 

That is what keeps us spinning 

Not the losing or winning 

When you take the time to look 

At what you took

For granted

The seed of hope is planted

The bud of life reborn

From the ashes of what was torn 

And burned 

But that seed can be turned 

Into the tree that grows each day 

Providing you shade along the way. 

What is it?

Real Love can never be 

a mistake

We make...

When the chips are down

And there's no one around

Real Love is 

what keeps you going

Keeps you growing stronger..

Even if it cannot last...

Even when it fades into the past...

Even when it is one sided...

Divided unevenly 

cut

Like cheap pizza

If it can be a mistake

That you leave in your wake

If it doesn't mean everything

Than it was never anything. 

http://youtu.be/mdJ6aUB2K4g

I'm just...

I'm just a breaker of things

never able to stop

before I bend the line 

so far it snaps. 

I'm just a ruined soul

that ruins 

perfect things

because I could. 

l'm just a dead king's touch

but it's fools gold 

with nothing but 

a toxic backlash.

I'm just a broken thing

making more

broken things

with no way to fix them. 

I'm just a hurricane

leaving everything 

shattered in

my wake. 

Faded Sandcastles

In my youth, I dreamed of days

when the world would succumb to
my whims and wants and ways,
but with each trip of the moon
that desire for power fades.
Thick ash fog presses down around me
by the cataclysms of life;
the mechanisms of clicking time
and lost rhyme
make strife stick like molasses
to the walls of my memory.
Deliver me back to when
I still wanted to grow up.
I want to go back to before ‘up’ was here, and fear
was only caused by imagination’s monsters.
Now I cry, terrified, as I
watch the old ‘mes’ fade.
Like chalk flowers in the rain,
Time devours all the pieces
of who I used to be,
but how hard can I fight
to save a memory?
All I ever wanted was to grow up.
Now, I’m stuck wanting desperately
to go back down the rabbit hole
of insecurity and frailty
instead of insecurity and responsibility.
But, I don’t have time for
Weakness or meekness
or even moments of true honesty.
Now, it’s just an ever growing list
of dos and don’ts and wants and can’ts
and “Dear god, son, pull up your pants!”
… because that’s a thing I say now…
Not sure how that happened
or when or why.
What happened to those diamonds that lit the sky?
The ones I’d count before I could fall asleep
while I wrapped myself in promises I meant to keep.
Now, they carry on without me
while I worry about
tax exemptions and pensions
and tension in my lower back
and the giant stack of “To be Graded”,
and the faces from the past get more faded.
I fight on to hold on
to the memories of talking trees
whispering to me in the breeze,
but there’s an ever-rising shore line
where butterscotch and skipping rocks
are drowned out by the self-doubt
thrust on you by someone else’s tide,
a wave of pride crashing around
the sandcastles
your grandmother built with you
back when wishes still came true.