It was never about you.

 Somewhere along the winding trail of my life I realized my life was about me and your life was about you, and sometimes our lives bump into each other for a moment or a millennia.

Everywhere she goes the wind blows

She is the butterfly

Unfurling her wings 

Creating her own theory of existence

As they stood looking in the mirror watching themselves fade into the ether. 

They asked themselves, was it worth it? 

Was life on earth as you had hoped? 

Did you learn your lesson?  

Knowing there is nothing that comes after did you live well?

Shit

What lingers

Lets start at the ending. 

I walked toward home, the air growing thicker and as I turned down the street to my apartment. A moment I wanted to capture panned out before me. As always I stopped in the T of the road and was aligning my view. It was at that moment standing there in the middle of an empty road I heard a train and felt an impact. It all happened in a split second as a thought passing through my mind.  Somewhere in space I had just been struck down while taking a picture. The shutter clicks and a breeze again swept my hair.

The ground neatly swept. A conversation beginning or ending, leaving what was said hanging in the air. A contemplative breeze brushed by as I stood eavesdropping on shadows, a conversation unfolding.

 The shadows were good today. I found myself on a path winding through burial grounds sounds of birds joyfully leading the way. Beckoning and cautioning at my progress on a trail like a serpent moving in and around obstacles. Communing with nature now and then a breeze touches my face. 

A bitter nostalgia

 

A bitter nostalgia 

An imagined past

A future contrived of past imaginings and bitter nostalgia for a childhood that  existed only in the scripts of sitcoms absorbed by the masses. 

Televisions lighting the windows as evening closes in on unsuspecting beings force fed a diet of regurgitated beliefs sent through a tube and thrust out of a box. Casting a sickly light on the faces of youth, false promises and  fake news. 

Scaring into complacency,
scarring them through the trauma of being an american through no fault of their own.  

Cast upon the world like a ragged net hoping to catch fish only capturing the trash of those who raised them.  

standing in a swamp of discarded hopes and dreams, with the rains of rhetoric pounding down like a stormy night sky heavy with the weight of ozone. 

The smell of grief for a life never lived and a past only imagined.  Bitter nostalgia.

Blink

 Blink

Pools of light and shadow play on the surface

Blink

Death lays before me in all its glorious splendor

Blink

A husk of wings no longer beating

Blink

Colors still vibrant even 

though life has gone dim

Blink

The shadows change the light shifts

Blink blink

The moment between death and life

Blink

Will it be there when my eyes open again

Blink

The sun shines so bright it voids my vision with bursts

Blink

The shadows grow long

Blink

What was bright grows dim

Blink

In the blink of an eye what was is no more

Blink

#poetry #writing #lyrics