7 Minutes

Originally written 3-17-2018


There is a blank space
Not a slate to draw plans on
No foundation,
Not a place for hope or dreams
There is no starting place
No ending place, either
A middle space
Before the end
After the beginning,
I search for
The calm
A darkness
I pull back nothing,
An absence
That not even light can escape


There is an empty space
Not a window
Not a floor
There is no port of egress
Not even a door
There have been times
I passed this place
Never knowing it was here
I was headed somewhere different
With a plan in my mind
Looking for something different
Not a hint of where I would land


Spoken plainly…

There was no empty space
To go when I died
There was no tunnel
No bright white light
I did not experience anything
On this I can go no further
There is nowhere to go
For 7 minutes I was gone,
But I didn’t go anywhere


Letters on the floor

The letters
The letters slid off the page
Piroetting and pinwheeling
Floating to the parquet

Glancing off my fingers
Ricocheting off my knee
They end up in a pile beneath my feet
Trampled and trashed and smeared

Sweeping up the phrases
Grabbing fist-fulls of adverbs and adjectives
Trying to rebuild the fragments
Re-form the stanzas
Plug the gaps left by words that have
Fluttered out of my imagination

Praying the underlying prose,
Tales of light and dark,
Escape the carnage,
That my lyric continues to


Things Fail

It is horrific
To have things fail
In part, or completely,
What’s worse…
Experiencing it
While it is happening
Knowing it is happening
And not being able to
Do a thing about it

But that is not all

Then comes the shame
Then comes the regret
Then comes the embarrassment
Then comes the wondering
Looking them in the face
Did you see me?
Did you catch that SLIP?

Have I been discovered?


I am not broken

I am not broken…
But I was
I was for a long time
I grieve for all that time
In pursuit of nothing
Everything I was not prepared for,
Everything I was not capable of achieving,
Instead of fixing myself
I lied to myself
Insisting I was whole…

It took a catastrophic event,
Which I still don’t understand,
To bring fundamental change
To bring a healing wave,
Where I found new things,
True things,
Ways of being…

I am not broken…
But I was
I have found a new way of living
I have found a new way of relating to the world
I have refused to go back there


The Plunge

Late at night
When I’ve done everything I can,
Everything I can…

I make friends
With my…

Whatever you want to call them

We come to agreements
We make promises
We swear that
Things will be
When the sun
Comes ’round again

every time

In fact,
It doesn’t even wait until dawn

The plunge is painful,
Long and shameful,
I am surprised every time
At how much I loose
How much I cover up
For the sake of living
A “normal” existence

When I think
It has come to
It’s shaky end
When the random attacks
On my psyche
Have stopped…

Only then do I dare
To sit back and wheeze
Through stunted breaths,
How thankful I am
To be alive,
No matter how
Monumental the task
May have been


I don’t know

I wish I could always have an answer to the question:


It scares me through and through
Not to know the reason
For doing something one way one day
Then doing it differently another

It feels like there is a disconnect
A piece of me that doesn’t run right all the time
When the question is put forth
I fail and resort to the sad little answer

I don’t know