behind door number one…

i’ve begun
to question
the value of these
heart beats
one
after
the other
wondering
if the next one
is going
to offer
some hidden purpose
to my life
or
whether
they are mere
rhythmic patterns
denoting
that
i
should continue on
seeking
my own purpose
and
be not reliant
upon
the heart
to tell me
what
to do
nor
wait for
the mind
to
reveal
what i must
create
on
my own

postponements…

life’s faded
to-do list
held in hands
marred
by time
once strong line
discolored
by
hope’s tears
over the years
promises
made
and sought
now
for naught
an
old man
his mirror
a last friend

goodbye my friend…

the words
another good man
done
gone on
sticks in my mind
for
another friend
has taken up
the task
to present my case
before god
as to
why
i should
enter
those
uncharred gates
gates
in
an undisclosed
location
that
we’ve been
assured
entry
with
the right password
or
legal representation
since
my friends
know
i can’t recall
any
of my passwords
and
must maintain
a notebook
just to logon
to my own computer
they’ve been
forced
to
undertake
the project
of defending
my
failures
as
not
blatant
disregard
for
angelic membership requirements
but
as
mere
extended
senior moments
throughout
my
lifetime
i suppose
the complications
of such
a defense
is why
so many
have
left me

having found a stone in my shoe…

having-found-a-stone-in-my-shoe

i’ve begun
to wonder
if hate
does not
permanently
dye
the soul
the color
of
dried blood
our
words
of forgiveness
to those
who’ve
wronged
us
are
but
pilate washing
his hands
all the while
a thin veil
of flesh
conceals
what lies
within
a darkness
that
spews
from our lips
gaseous words
of venom
when
passing
troubadours
wishing
only
to write
songs
of enlightenment
press
too tightly
upon
the fragile flesh
of
our
beliefs
and
fears
thus revealing
that
inert
element
hidden
in our souls