Posts tagged ‘sadness’

April 8, 2015

Coffee Sippin’ Reflections while Reading

There was an attractive space recently filled,
I read,
which became an empty void.

That empty void,
I read,
became a great opportunity.

That great opportunity,
I read,
became a fleeting moment.

That fleeting moment of great opportunity of an empty void,
I read,
was then filled whole.

In the process of planning,
I read,
you missed the entire occurrence.

O now how the coffee tastes
so bitter at the bottom,
I read.

April 14, 2014

wie zum sterben

Monologue of Lovers;
One contends never to exist, as is necessity of endearing Conversationalists.
Words castes, molds, and shows what’s to discover of each other.

Touch of the Shut-in,
Cold frost thoughts mingled, with those of a summer’s mist.
Running through to grounds around, hark to those akin.

Designed to hold Time,
A clock’s arms link-locked tight tense to tick.
Shoe gazers watch cracks to find prized dimes in the mix.

Disintegrating at pure elegance,
She dances early day just to pull on a dress and necklace.
Proper smile outlined deep red to impress, enacting her relevance.

Lack of audacious Antidote,
A self-wound wrapped bound left to forget.
Layers that bond only to be pulled in two; torn, and then reset.

Absolutist human likely assumed close to the rest;
Comprised of simple puzzles, a simple life -of to think and act- while we stand in ‘present-tense’.

-Until our bell’s been rung for eternal rest.

And at that day,

In so many ways

Others will speak with passionate pride and distraught sentiment.

But we won’t.



The voice decays into oblivion with the body.  

August 7, 2012

Grandma Knew Better

My life as a poet as I know it, is over for the moment.


You don’t bend things, they break.

You don’t date things, unless you want them to stay.

Otherwise you might have to say go away.


A spent condom fashioned precariously in a trash bin is becoming rancid.

It sits in the corner, HELLO!


I wonder what it would all look like in a mansion.

All these actions

-Reminds me of how I get around.


I wonder why they wonder how I do it?

Its very hard to explain, we have different brains.

We drive in different lanes.



I ask them how they are poor, broken, and asking questions.

No one answers, they all walk away.


Little Me(s) evaporate and die as I sigh.

Only a sheet of highly efficient latex’s placement saves my existence on this pavement.

I think of the house and the large ivory pillars.


I stand slouched-thinking, moderately strung out from blinking.

Can they write like this(?) -right(,) like this:    <—–Here.


You don’t mind things that don’t matter, after it all, after the laughter.

Sadness plastered on faces, and then a clown walks in to throw them off.

Doesn’t it make you gladder?


Effectively the Sun reigns, so we bring sunscreen to protect from the sun-rays.

Eventually the Son reigns, so…


About the snow; we wear extra clothes to cover our noses from being frozen.


Ask the Floridian, he doesn’t have the slightest.

Of the former they may feel closer to closure.

Of the farmer on the border of cash crop or flip flop, off to the city.




Big fucking lights.

Big fucking deal.


Then its over.




Laughing to a spilt bladder, found a place.

Southside, well Whittier, I am not writing it on a slate, either way it translates.


Sick of the television bickering, and myself not picking through pages; my books are left with dog ears and wanting to play, getting through it in many different stages, on different days.

Not sick any more though, there is a remedy for me, for us, for all.


Like a grenade to my face, like a beer, like a bee, like a sting.

Not misplaced.

Mickey’s, got to love the taste, and its CHEAP!


Ready to fight?



Sitting in the grass with the community.  Watching a movie and relating truly-

Out of smokes, living longer.

Out of beer, better mornings.

Out of food, I go to church on Monday nights.


Out of money, nothing to complain about.


They have too much and they worry too little.

(about the trivial)

Fretting on the couch, in a nice house.


In response to the poor they are whores of vanity.

In response to power they are a sad sight to see.

In response to friends they have none, no response.

In response to a gun, they surrender, later they run.


They take all but they have lost nothing.

Maybe even gained something in the process.

An understanding, a piece of mind.



We sit, we think, we drink, we think, water from the kitchen sink, we think, we contemplate again.

I don’t know, but it flows down the drain like thoughts in the brain, yet we can’t write it down…

Oh, whatever.


Not wearing a frown because I can’t think of a negative.

This isn’t math class, you dunce.

And in any case there really are only positives.



When we are on the brink and we head back.

Going backwards-Needed and not needed.

Taking it all in right after.

Forgotten later, the latter.

Everything that matters: everything.  


We want it to stay and it goes away.

We say go away and there is delay.

Do we ever get what we want?  And if we do is it what we want?


Good riddance.

What’s the difference?

We are all gifted, its what we live with.

Nothing around you is dead yet.


I am wrong…


About my Grandma:


I still see the sky lit up on the horizon at dusk.  I still think of her touch, and it still does matter.  She would say:  TERRY SCOTT!  I would chase after.  She would smoke and drink coffee and play cards.  She never brought anyone down, if I remember correct she was happy, always.  She was the best person in my life and she left in 2008.  All the same, she is here today.  She has white-blond hair, baby blue eyes (like me), and an infectious smile.  She is remembered, as the good things are.  We forget all of the things we malign and dislike for a banal existence.  They have placement in our lives, but they don’t mean all that much.  Things like this matter.

Everything happens for a reason, and its all the same in the rain.

No disdain, not insane, slightly like self we remain.

Yet mostly changed.

Dark clouds atop the hill make me smile.  Strong winds bring back memories as they touch me with slight pressure and fly away.  I imagine her soul does the same.

I will always be in the country and feel her presence.  Like the city hides that, it brings her back even more.

Where is Chicago?

Even when I am alone I am not alone.

There is no saddest when we think of the ones we once had, and always will have.  Who come back in small instances of everyday life, in astonishment.  We recollect.


She was never down, coffee and cigarettes remind me of her.

She was the best card player I ever knew.

She loved snoopy and bingo and her family.


And I was this close to playing one last card game with her…

Then the phone call.

I ate mediocre potato salad for a week in the cold of my apartment, which had no heat.


She always beat me in war.

And it was snowing in early October.

July 30, 2012

Read this in September 2007

A door shuts.

She walks up.

Look, stare.

No big deal.

The temperature is nice, but it holds no entendre.  

Shuffling towards one another, precarious bags in hand.

The last time.

The only time.

The most important thing to remember.

This time.

Scanning the horizon for a comet; hoping, praying that this moment you share is eternity.  

What was it like again?


The calls.

The empty promises.

5 years of love.

We maligned each other, both, but what of it now?

It is really unimportant, because we are a single subject.

Experiences are better when they are experienced with a loved one, but I doubt it counts when leaving relations.  


Hint of depravity; a social entity with no other facet.

Black and white; straight-line logic.

Weed out the grey-

This is the only way.

What happens today, happens.

Haven’t checked the planner in weeks, time keeps moving on and no one notices.  

What we feel:

It stays.

We don’t.

You envision what might happen, but after that moment there is nothing.

Left with just that.

-Just that and a thought-

Rigidly stuck to a plan, over and out.

We talk, yeah…

10-4, over and out.

We used to touch, take in, and cop feels.

Now that is in a field, buried under years of dust, dirt, and debris.

All stuff.

What was.

All that lot of what doesn’t really change or affect, the change in effect.

Effective, but… f u c k it.

All that confidence for nothing, this can’t be trained.  

An Eternal embrace, and then its over.

A car rolls out, and away in the distance.

You are in a car of your own but its crashing.  That car is your mental status.

You stand, taking in the sound, sight, and smell of things.

Hold your breath in deep, sigh, its a nice night anyway.

The sun may look beautiful, the sky may be a brilliant blue.  Evening.  Clouds, many colors of the spectrum float above an all important sinking orb.

It has no meaning to you.

It has no meaning to you.

You think of one thing.

We may not be this close again.

Distant, like traveling abroad, but there is a line.

Still, the line is drawn.




Lost it.

Nothing could make it better.

You can’t fix the best.

-Winning the lottery, even success-

Nothing is better.

The loss is deeper than either.

You were a king, looking over your land-missing all the wonderful assets that rested just below your perch.

Laughing, you drank and disparaged your own, only to be lost and alone without them.

Criticizing the smallest flaw, but praying for its return after being bettered for aesthetics.

The insignificance of normalcy; detailed happenings that will play out, over and over again in your head.

As a pall-bearer walking toward stones, as the last conversation unfolds.  There will be a taste in your mouth. That is when you will know something is happening.

You understand.

In the pit of your stomach.

Now you understand.

On the verge of vomit.

The traces of trash, and ash, of self you left strewn about the room.

They loom.

Just things you don’t forget.

Tears stop, and after, your grace is replaced by a void.

Shadows that were, will hang at dusk and exist at sunrise as you were.

Sitting there, reminding you, waiting.

Lights-out will be a solemn and silent affair when it is realized that you are not there.

The walks we took, it is just me.

The places we would frequent, it is just me.

The movies, the books, and the lakes we sat, now, truly, it is just me.

So far from home, but you are at yours.

Eyes-look at the eyes.

Hard to focus on the details again.

Blackened sockets.

Squinting-shaking, failed attempt at holding it together.

Deep breaths again, wishing for pure-raw yet tamed emotion.

Animal instincts, but animals don’t  shed tears.

Green eyes, lit brilliantly with curiosity and surprise outlined with a fine dark pencil.

Clear and honest inside.

Waitress-“You are who you are.”

Me-“I know.”

She witnessed.

Something you don’t see regularly.

And it is goodbye.

Like I will be right back.

Scary movie.

Like see you later.

Abduction in the early 90’s.

Lay together in the sack.

Special features.

Quick retriever.

What we had, be happy for.

At times forget.

Everyone tells you things are better off.

But you can’t forget.

Everyone doesn’t deal with this daily.

Time flies when you are having fun, but the clock doesn’t run when what we had is done.

Solitude, solid chair, Big Ter, fixated, and agitated.

Excited, every minute.

Inching closer.

Closer to the inevitable.

I hope we don’t die, never to meet again.

My friend.

My friend.

I have done nothing like this before.

They call, they say they miss what we had.

Its different, as much as we don’t want to realize.

The change is noticed and what is noted most is melancholy.

The phone keeps ringing.

Fit for folly.

Smile, ride out on the punch line.

Nothing to smile about, apparently, close to a breakdown.

A smile is a frown if it is practiced.

Watching movies on the couch, playing solitaire in thought.

We used to lie together, love, fight, discuss, and borrow each other to never give back.

But you do take that with you when you leave.

But what you got might make you sore.

Even remembering as you walk through the grocery store, like she was right here, recently.

Chores to keep eating.

No longer yours.

No escape.

Might make it hard to swallow.

Might make the memories flood in.

New friends, new times, new experiences, but what about us?

The end is like the beginning; like before we didn’t meet, like after we don’t meet again.

What is to miss if it didn’t exist?

And I miss this moment, and the next, and the next, and the next….

And you…

And I remember the color of the car driving out and away with you in it.  I could smell fall coming as the wind blew against my   face.  I knew I was in for a cold winter.  I thought…