Yet still, I imbibe.

I've looked to you
like a wine bottle on a shelf
saving you for a special occasion
that I am not yet ready for.

That bottle was put away
not very long ago.
Just as you lay alone at night
still warm to my touch.

In this moment, I drink you in
and spread your bouquet across my pallet.
I savor every succulent moment,
sweetly reminiscing our vintage.

As you course through my veins
your effect addles my judgement.
Your presence undulates to my heart
and you intoxicate my senses.

You raise my expectations to a level
that I have not yet known before.
And you enrapture my heart
in a manner that I have yet to feel again.

Spinning within dreams
I lay my weary head
within the silhouetted embrace of you
yet I am in an empty bed.

I awaken. My senses corrupted
and my hopes left hanging.
I am unfulfilled like no other
and seek a place to belong.

It was moderation we missed
and over-consumption guided our hand
If given the chance
our attempts will seduce one another
in a manner which onlookers
will not comprehend.
Lay your vein vulnerable again
and I will quicken your heart once more.

within, peering.

So many pieces make up this complicated puzzle of mine
some nature, some from nurture; all make me complete.
Can diverse pieces fit together without the divine?
As it all comes together will it expire and become obsolete?

From the nature side, I know little to none
and hope to someday take that and expound upon.

I carry with me her same dark blue blue eyes,
And can only think of her thoughts that February day.
My son now carries those same eyes, perhaps finally to gaze upon her in surprise,
Then bringing us all together on that warm 'someday'

The brain he gave me requires me to ponder too much
I inherit an inquisitive nature that makes me unique.
Is that the reason that faith makes me hold such a grudge
and creates a disturbance that makes me incomplete?

From the nurture side is where I can take root
and am thankful for all that I have with endearing salute.

I carry her resolve and ability to withstand diversity
but I am unable to duplicate it at a genuine level.
Unlike her, I clam up in the face of adversity
And cannot resist the urge to burn every inhabiting devil.

I carry with me the purity of his soul,
within me he defines what is right and what is fair.
I am the part that wishes to someday be like him, whole
Such audacity I have to be the man he is, or even to dare.

All of this comes together within me yet lies, unsettled.
And the pieces of me break apart, again now unassembled.

My soul is disgruntled for it has not met its match.
I lead with too much and take the irrelevant as glorified.
I take my endeavor to be whole and send to it to dispatch.
So my heart bleeds, my back bends and my soul remains unsatisfied.

purpose, missing

Further down this road and around the bend,

there is a place that my heart has not yet been. 

It is a quiet peaceful place where one can be at ease.

An air of satisfaction and appreciation of subtlety.

I know so much about it yet why can I not find the way in?

I can feel the general direction but the compass merely spins. 

Substantial mud is caked on my boots and age has set upon my skin. 

Still no route opens and no absolution of my sins.

My son taught me to love in a greater capacity.

Yet with nothing to direct that towards seems a shameful tragedy. 

Is this perhaps my role- the abnormality?

Was I sentenced to appreciate yet never obtain beauty?

Surely finding love cannot be audacity.

For so many, it comes with simplicity. 

Yet in my heart is an unsettled velocity. 

I have found no sufficient outlet

and my frustrations become the gauntlet.

The lights dim as I bite the bullet.

My passions rise yet I need a sublet.

Survey the heavens to beckon a committee. 

There was a crack in my mold, can you not see?

Bring retribution and a correction for all to see.

Can not an angelic release come to me?

Untitled

Beside the sea, Carry sat alone upon an old park bench. Although her eyes were weary from old age, her focus to the horizon remained sharp. The bench that hosted her was thoroughly worn and showed flashes of at least three different colored coats of paint. Her right hand was fastened firmly upon the coiled brass arm. At times, her hopes would cast false silhouette of a boat returning to port. Her eyes would then widen right before she squinted, forcing herself to blink. When her eyes would refocus, the silhouette of the boat would disappear. When would he return?

Carry had met Nicholas Irerun what seemed lifetimes ago. It took almost a decade for him of knowing her distantly before he got the courage to approach and formally court her. She knew herself to smile every time she remembered the look of the nervous man as he sputtered out his first words to her. Still to this day, on that park bench, that memory kept her warm as she pulled her shawl in tighter against the wind.

Nicholas's passion was always the ocean. As a child he had sturdy sea legs before most boys had their first chance to see the ocean for themselves. His summers were endless weeks of hard labor aboard the boats his father would commission. Nicholas never minded it, as he knew he was helping sprovide for their family. This childhood hardened the mans skin but his heart remained a sensitive one. He was always quick to trust yet apprehensive to commit. He was loved by most yet feared by a boisterous minority. Many would say he would never marry and that the sea would be the only woman adequate to serve as a spouse to him.

To her, Nicholas was the impossible catch. The idea of them being together was so unlikely that it was not even worth the cost of a pleasant day dream. All the girls would gather at the shops on the water when his father's boat would come to port. On summer afternoons, they would oft catch Nicholas unloading cargo and speak to each other in only giggles and awkward stares. What would a man of his stature ever see in a woman like Carry? Carry held him in such high regard that she did not see the point in cowering with the other girls at his feet. Because of that, he was never even on her radar and perhaps that enticed him. The chemistry is one we may not ever understand but when these two came together it was one that has not been reproduced.

Meeting Carry didn't change much of who he was but it redefined his priorities. As time went by, the love he developed for her was unlike anything he had felt before and he welcomed it. She embraced and returned that love and, to date, they shared over five decades of good and bad times. The peaks of the good times would always overshadow the valleys of the bad times.

Three weeks ago, Nicholas set off with old friends on a fishing trip. The years were good to them financially so these excursions were exclusively for leisure. Carry expressed her concerns to him openly and always feared that he was getting to old for these trips. She would worry that his confidence on the ocean would cause him to underestimate situations that he would face. As always, he would calmly reassure her, telling her that there were not enough leagues of ocean to keep him from returning to her. Somehow, he always set her fears aside. This time however, as sure as the rising tide in the morning, her fears arose. It had been three days since his boat was due back to port and Nicholas was never late.

A storm brewed off of the coast in their general direction after they shipped off. All signs indicated good news would be hard to come by and that any closure-yielding bad news would never come. Still, she sat. Her friends and family would attempt to distract her with activities and other times blatantly beg for her to come home but she would not entertain either.

All she had and all of the happiness she would hope to find, lie with the return of that man. In the moment, now all she had was the scent of the ocean air to remind her of him. For now that was enough. This man provided such a bright spot in her life, it would seemingly all be in vain if she left that bench and abandoned his potential return. The smallest chance of him returning outweighed any upside of what would come if he did not so she instilled patience. She would remain on that bench and wait for him and the moment the idea of leaving would enter her head, it was immediately cast out. No, it never stood a chance.

duplicity, unrecognized

The time was fall yet it yielded an unusually warm sun.
While the leaves fell around her, he stood by her side.
As the sun set and two became one,
Little more was wanted as they vowed to one another to abide.

His axis was altered as he tipped his sun to her horizon.
Shade came to him but her glow brought him warmth.
Still, she planted a dark seed but he was none the wiser,
the moon bent to her will as she began to transform.

Spoken frustration, secret whispers; her morals gave way to the heat of the moment
Intoxicated by a new advance, she enticed him with improper reason.
As her heart raced forward, her vow lay broken behind her. 
From eternity, one cannot claim a refund.

In a sea of sheets
friction created heat.
Inhibitions began retreat
and yielded a lie, discrete.
Integrity began to deplete
in a wave of lustful deceit.
She took emphatic receipt
as she came complete.
...if only her will was concrete.

As adrenaline faded, reality would set in.
Harbor the lie or set it free?
The chance was not given to the second.
The lie was embraced; dutifully.

She would only exonerate herself
for she had no guilt from within.
Her head danced in complete apathy
as her drive home would begin.
If she woke him, he would not question where she'd been.
Carefully she slipped quietly into bed still dripping wet with sin.

heart, retrained.

Stretched so far yet still far from reach
I comprehend to instruct but cannot feel enough to teach.
You imprint gospel'd words yet you cannot preach?
My dear, you have left me with little to do.

I merely wished that I could only touch your heart
and begin to map your soul and set stars to chart.
I step back; you have left me nowhere to start.
I feel your presence but I cannot find you.

I watched as you walked upon grace
but you guaranteed those footsteps I could not retrace.
With malintent your heart was misplaced
Now thoughts of you require review.

You leave your motives at my feet, only to guess
and your volatility requires that you immediately address
how you make the work not worth my effort, I must confess.
The return on your bad karma is well overdue.

I find your ability profound in the ways you complicate
and the madness perpetuated is one I now seldom contemplate.
Your time has expired and emotion will never substantiate.
Your hold on me slips as your appeal is subdued.

peace, found.

2/26/2014

For so long she suffered at the hands of another.
The bruises were tough to cover, and her will loses to suffer.

She sought to depart from the hole in her heart and wanted no more of being torn apart; she knew immediately just where to start.

She sought a decisive peace.

...a calming wind to bring quiet to the rocking of her boat
...a shift to stop the high tide from rushing down her throat
...in this swirling, scattered tempest she only wanted hope.

She finally took that first brave step.

How quickly the wind rushed through her hair, as if chasing her dreams across an open field.
She closed her eyes and drew the deepest smile, no longer needing to yield.

The frustration gave way as she was finally able to vent.

Now twisting to her will, her sadness was bent.
The hope inside of her was relentless and began to augment.

How easy this was; she only needed to attempt.

Then all of her wildest dreams that she dreamt came to a sudden descent as her body struck hard against the cold cement.

Her last breath was spent.
A sigh of relief as she was finally content.

Test of a Man

7.25.07

Whether it be old wives tales or understood in society
the things that 'truly test' a man come abundant in variety

There are accomplishments that can help one understand
but what is your capacity to influence the good of man?

This question came to me in a resounding accord
and it inundated my psyche as my thoughts were floored.
In almost thirty years I had never come to realize
that potential fourth dimension always concealed to my eyes.
You see, a man can physically fight to claim his own place.
He can successfully negotiate to save his own face.
He can focus enough mentally to decipher without haste
and still not truly even pallet this taste.

The fondness of this concept is not found in a physical mortality
nor is it found in the thrill of success or within a strong mentality.
It is found in a child's unbiased judgment and their gift of acceptance.
One so true that it cannot be purchased even by the purest of penance.

Only the consistent affection, unconditional support and selfless sacrifice
builds the foundation required that can only begin to suffice.
Their thirst is for knowledge and the impression you leave will stay so true
that it forces consistency and will push you to become a better 'you'.

As much as this takes from you, the payback is exponential
when you realize you can influence another human to their potential.
When a child believes in you, you look at yourself in a different light,
possibly one you've never perceived and it then becomes your plight.
The enrichment of raising a child is far greater than I could have been told
as I've witnessed my own love come back to me ten fold.

For Traci

1.17.2005

It's been a long hard road for you, but it's time for you to lay at peace,

Where the screams of life are muted and your complications will cease.

At some point, we had all witnessed your day to day struggle.

Everyday life became difficult but your perseverance was never subtle.

As the role of one left behind

I cannot help but think back and rewind…

Where could I have found more time?

Were there other spare moments that I could find?

There are so many questions it almost becomes too much to grasp.

I begin to look upwards, then at the bible; only to ask…

What have I done to deserve this outcome?!

For my spirit is weary and my despair weighs a ton.

Did you deserve this early exit into the light,

After you put up such a long, cumbersome fight?
Your passing has helped restore my faith and I am filled with a truth.

A comfort envelopes me and my questions are soothed.

You have been chosen and the passing of your soul

Calls for the rest of us to move on and play a required role.

There is a plan in place and your passing was required.

Any anger for God or questions of why must now be retired.

I have come to accept you have gone on to a better place,

even though amongst a crowd I can still see your face.

And I have to come to understand that I must let you go,

No matter what my emotions say and when my heart tells me 'no'.

I wish you peace in your place of rest and know I will always care.

Even if your loss is impossible for my presence to bare.

Anything I must do to see you again, consider it done – this I swear.

And when I feel that warm breeze at my back, I'll know you were there.

Your Loving Brother,

Ryan

Epitaph of Heart

10.19.05

There is a fork in the road and there are but two ways

But the ante is for keeps which contorts it more to a maze.

I am not sure if the best choice is to endure and push through

Or take a deep breath, cut my losses and start anew.

When an emotionless stone meets an unsuspecting rock, there is still a spark.

Even though I should follow my heart, my hope cannot see in the dark.

But even though I would never show it on my face,

Can you not feel the emptiness in a full embrace?

Our thoughts cannot connect and the backlash sends me reeling

With that type of reaction, how can you not sense what I am feeling?

We can swear we will fix it and things will get better soon

But we have already heard that band marching to that over played tune.

During an uphill struggle, it is impossible to gain,

So why do we continue this emotional strain?

Sometimes you have to give in and succumb to the undertow

And accept the momentum of the redirecting flow.

I have become unwillingly numb and cannot sense what you need,

Rendering me helpless to make this togetherness succeed.

I cannot make excuses because we have done this before

And trying to make this work, my heart simply cannot take anymore.

I feel remorse for the wasted time of what could become of other things

But the quicker this is ended, the faster we will see what tomorrow brings.

For this reason I must euthanize our future and put it to sleep

And I must let you go, my love, but this time it must be for keeps.

Sensing the Flaw

6.14.06

If the spine is traumatized enough, the legs will grow weak,

And if one's tongue is cut out, their lips will never speak.

Can this same effect occur within the heart?

Can it go cold and make you to forget where to start?

If you "just know" when you're in love, what gauges if you really are?

What if my definition of love is set with a different bar?

Emotion is drawn in such a subjective fashion, can one comprehend;

Where to draw the line and know when they need to bend?

Every action has an equal reaction, a concept that should affect all.

Than how, I ask, does my heart find the gall?

It will allow me to fall depressed with such a sickening obsess,

But not possess the ability to feel emotion that combats the emptiness?

Can my soul not sense this tipping scale?

At creation, did He overlook this major detail?

Was I created with this inequality for a reason?

I never thought Cupid could commit such treason.

I seek out for the answers, stabbing at the empty air

If this happens again will I really be able to bear?

The frustration that mounts is more powerful than the doubt I yield

It drops me to a new rock bottom and my biggest weakness is revealed

I truly cannot allow myself to let someone in,

And capture my heart and let a new chapter to begin.

This inability is only matched by my want for it to end.

Can a compromise occur and allow this heart to mend?

The Cure?

3.16.07

For so long I've wandered in a deep misery,

and enjoyed its dark embrace and bitter company.

It's almost as if I enjoy fucking things up.

You would think that I've had enough of this bad luck.

Still I sit in this chair, welcoming the emptiness to fill me,

with a thousand yard stare and seemingly nothing left to be.

It's funny the perception I give when in fact it's the opposite;

for there are many demons to burn and the skeletons in that closet.

Beyond the boundary,

there is a presence that alleviates all of this for me.

I welcome it in and I can begin to clearly see.

How much is ahead of me,

What it is I could be.

Knowing now how deeply

And bow to see so deliberately.

A tasted is injected

Into the infected

For all I am subjected

To the ways its reflected.

My troubles begin to cease

As the screams begin to please

And across comes the crease

Into which it is released.

I now have no concern

For how strong her love burns

And I must take a turn

To trust her and learn.

It is now an ease of knowing

How honesty can be flowing

Between us as we're showing

How to make it work and keep going.

And now I know she can

Help me become the man I am

I won't look back for an attack

As past fades to black

We'll reel in the slack

And we'll never have to look back

Conflict of Self-interest

3.17.01

Can the truth be found when the seeker is shrouded in temptation?

And can the passionate be satisfied when it means civil damnation?

Of these two questions, my life walks the line and never to stray

Toward the answers or wrongs – Do they really matter anyway?

If they did not, the truth would have been found

and the fire within me quenched; my soul perfectly sound.

It is this type of disturbance from which I thrive,

Depression to fulfillment, somehow it keeps me alive.

Around, down, back and forth it can leave a sensitive heart to bleed,

But soon it pulls itself together in the hopes that I will someday be complete.

The falsification of this hope is reinforced by my nagging anxiety

And is as strong as natural law and as cold and stiffening as sobriety.

It is why I must escape away to contemplate

Through the doors of perception and above to alleviate

The painstaking disgust of the mere sight of this place

All the wrong doings, mistreatment, and screams leave me in disgrace.

I turn inward, looking for the answer in an absolute position of hell bent

And realize I will merely chase the idea of ever being completely content.

Weathering the Storm

8.23.06

It has been quite a while since I've seen conditions like this

The clouds part angrily and the wind begins to hiss.

The tension on the horizon mounts and begins to swell

It brings with it the intensity of an unforeseen hell.

Change has past and this storm brings in the new

As opposed to running, I await not knowing what to do.

I sense there is a power in this storm but it's not a fearful one.

It's eerily reminiscent of where great things have begun.

As the storm rages nearer, the angry demeanor alters,

It has an intimidating approach, causing the weak to run and falter.

The grays turn bright and the sharp clouds begin to flex

So simplistic now what was once thought complex.

The winds roll upon me but more inviting than coarse.

They sooth and warm me, not here to damage but only support.

I pity the ones that turned and ran for its presence was worth the wait.

That was its plan all the while, to show it might complicate.

The winds divide and open to take me in enrapture

Suddenly the howls cease and the silence is captured.

The eye of this storm is ambient without a doubt

Looking up to the pinnacle, I see there is now only one route.

Suddenly the storm sweeps me from up off the ground,

Yet with awkward caution that contradicts the presence that surrounds.

The witness, of her beauty and power over me, I have born. 

And I want nothing more than to be enveloped by the eye of her storm.

A Transition

6.5.2010

Given residence in my head,

Presence upon soft heart.

Amongst falter and triumph

You waded through all.

Evolution is for naught

If the code is stored.

For the layers must be based

Upon the contour of the floor.

Can the caterpillar live contently

And expire as is?

…or does he take stage as

Butterfly solely for audience?

Alterations bring short excitement

Yet the core yields originality.

Change by external influence

Ultimately drains internally.

As the walls come down

I’ll search through the rubble

In hopes you’re not suffocated

Through the wishes of another.