Inopportune

I wasn’t who they seen me as

But then again, I can’t fault them

They weren’t any more authentic

Than I was pretending to be myself

I was young and fitting into a role

That’s what immaturity acts like

Not that it’s an excuse: it’s a stage

A poor position making hard progress

More likely to be misread than understood

It’s meant to be that way for all concerned

In the same fashion of growth by desire

If you don’t hunger for it, you don’t feed it

But like all knowledge, it’s a dual edge sword

At times we bleed ourselves… to death

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Aghast

It’s more of an emotional ricochet

A beloved one is captured by death

Our normal trajectory hits a wall

We’re stopped suddenly, then fall

Downward void of a bottom to hit

Our reality becomes shatteredness

Life is now a continuous hazy blur

And directions are left for obsolete

Thoughts intermix with memories

Gasps to breathe are happenstance

Life tastes of a poisoned bitterroot

Silence becomes a cacophonic echo

Heartbeats are left uniquely erratic

Despite our efforts to…hide it all

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Derailment

Life feels more like a wreck

As if the tracks were stolen

In midst of a dawnless hour

While the world was asleep

My core behavior catapulted

Into weeds and thorny bushes

My thoughts and dreams live

Recalls are weaponized haunts

Every effort is punitive in itself

I can’t inhale without bleeding

Tragedy replaces a soul’s shadow

Treaded prints hold bloody drops

I became everything but normal

Sudden stops are… so unexpected

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Cavity

Sometimes it feels like I’m falling

Sometimes I just don’t feel anything

Sometimes sleep seems to evade me

Sometimes I linger in seared memories

Sometimes life passes me by unnoticed

Or I’ll wake up in the middle of some day

On brighter lit day,s I still feel its haze

That weighs me down from its presence

You were the only one to visit my heart

Leaving it filled with treasured moments

Not a day passes by that I don’t flinch

When cold reality notices you’re missing

And yet all of you remains present inside

In tiny crooks and crannies…where I hide

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Polarity

Some tragedies are manufactured

Misunderstanding fused perception

Misinterpretation bias in a child’s eyes

Fosters motivation to become a hero

Every honest achievement: elevation

Laurels draped like rare oil paintings

On their walls of deceptive partitions

Ashes aren’t evidence of a fire’s origin

Only that a fire took place somewhere

During some time to anterior discovery

Our past acts like a formative author

But sandy soil spoils our foundation

If it can’t withstand accurate waves

That burst in to eradicate…fallacies

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Emancipation

On a mid-July summer afternoon

July thirteenth, Twenty- twenty-four

An assassin hoped to become lionized

Drawing blood from a leader’s right ear

With his lightning-velocity lead bullet

To stifle a true warrior and movement

But God was in the mixture to prevent it

And God’s whisper was enough to work

An assassin repeatedly missed his mark

Only to fall by a sniper’s crack response

As the former President helped to his feet

Slightly shuffled but remained undeterred

Bodyguards didn’t move him or a moment

His fist raised and mouthed… fight, fight, fight!

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*In remembrance of the event and lost supporters

of US President Donald J Trump.

Chronical

I create prolonged shadows daily

Without effort or thought invoked

The shadows waivers me nothing

As their absent voice stills chills

Chase remembrances up my spine

As I relive a vivid life in my mind

Like some strange addict, I’m beset

To old feelings and moments alike

I face fear and flight concurrently

As I’m unable to choose or to move

I’m like an odd, electrified conduit

To prostitute myself unconsciously

As their living testament recording

Unable to erase the reality…inside

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Bygone

My own personal impetus has waned

Ebullience has faded like lost echoes

Still rebounding amongst the heavens

I stare out emptier blanked windows

Looking for inspired seasonal change

But these weighted years have passed

As its silence had only gotten heavier

Whiskey-lined dawns now mono greys

Leaving breezes crispier but flavorless

Aroma spoiled by left-over yesterday’s

Detract the boulevard and ages unlived

Harm lingers as an odd, deeper berceuse

Crudely invading one’s time and mind

And life seems to have left me…excised

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Crevasses

Most scars heal- somewhat

Some remain inherently raw

Their cause never disappears

Some days we tread currents

Attempting to outswim them

Some days we drown in depths

Churning under our life’s surface

A darkness that never vacates

Trauma becomes our undertow

Drawing us rearward into itself

Forcing us to fight an unseeable

Or abandon pieces of ourselves

As we attempt to reclaim a life

Even if life means… subsistence

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Components

A shadowy freight inhabits life

Enough to degrees of distortion

Much like some noticeable prism

As passing days feel more tawdry

Nights are my indisposed visitors

Dawn breaks into a crass fashion

Dreams were eclipsed or illusions

Life is no longer semblance- of life

Changes tend to happen regardless

I feel out of place from their absence

Wandering on a slow-moving river

No preset course void of any rudder

At mercy outside my understanding

But I go with its flow…reluctantly

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