the lost found

Finding what wasn't lost
always seems to fill a hole
that we never knew existed.

he said, she said

He cried out,
"Why?"

But the answer never came.

So now he searches...
he digs through his pain.



She screamed to him,
"Run!"

But he wouldn't hear her.

So now she's left wondering...
'what might have been'.

She said no

my cheeks burn red with embarrassment

she said no.

how i wish i were not here
how i wish i did not ask
how i wish i did not know
how i wish
how i wish
how i wish

How
Dare
She...
Look at me with that look...
Smell like a sun-filled day...
Taste like rich chardonnay...
Sound like a child's deep belly giggle...
Feel the way she does...

Doesn't she see my heart?
or is it still black with the lies
that painted my life previous?

Doesn't she smell my sweat?
as i work so hard to prove my love
with actions causing me to perspire.

Doesn't she taste my kiss?
even though our lips haven't touched
each other the way lovers do.

Doesn't she hear my cry?
or do the wails of a broken spirit
fall softly on deaf ears?

Doesn't she feel my touch?
as i reach out
to hold her,
to protect her,
to support her,
to encourage her,
to love her...

This death is like
one thousand horses
trampling my soul
in their wild stampede...
tearing, not caring
for which part they grind into the dust...

She said no...

...not with her lips to my ears,
but with her actions to my heart...

back on your feet

falling down
is the easiest thing to do.
but
getting back up,
is
the hardest.


funny how
the easy way
always proceeds
the hardest.


i've been the one who
has fallen,
and fallen hard.


i've rid myself of all things
as though i were
a reptile
shedding it's skin.


and yet the hardest part
of the falling,
continues to be
the getting up.


because in order to get back up
you have to
empty your hands-
empty yourself-
empty
in order to push, pull or drag
yourself back to your feet.

knowing the role

If i knew then
what i know now,
i would change
a few things.

because i'd know
i'm not "Joey" from Friends
or even "Chandler" for that matter.

I'll never be that rock star
that i envisioned myself
being. Nor will i set any
sports related records,
no matter how hard i try.

becoming the "next biggest thing"
to hit the town,
wouldn't be a dream
that I would try to keep
in focus... rather, i'd look
around and wrap my arms
tightly, around each and every
moment...
cherishing...
relishing...
and valuing
what i've been given.

Because i won't be that
awesome lead guitarist,
and my air drum set
is
quietly
collecting dust
as it sits in the corner...
unplayed...
uncared for...
unworthy of my dreams.

instead, all that remains
are a few good memories
of my hitting the sticks together
on accident,
or was it on purpose?
my former roommate
will
never
know.

who i am

I may seem
larger than life
but really
i'm just a scared little boy
wondering
what to do
how to do it
and when.

You see
when people see me
they think that
i'm something different
than what i know
i really am.

I don't have all the answers
in fact,
i don't have any
answers to any
questions for any
one to think
anything
of me
at
all.

Does patience breed humility?
because...
I am impatient.
I am arrogant.
I am anything
but what you want your
children to become.

i am a scared little child.
worried about tomorrow
and so frightened when
thinking of
today.

fish on

the streams of life
flow
and empty into
the bowl

mixing,
churning,
and
diluting

taking the truth
and disposing of it
in due time.

holidays

the cookies
the candies
the music
Decorations

the spirit
the friends
the family
Snow

the wrapping
the gifts
the cards
Festivities

overall an uplifting time of the year
a time that most people look forward to
when surrounded by complete busyness
and non-stop chaos of merriment

Wishing you the best of these times during the rest of these times.

the gme

The song plays it's colorful tune
The dancers spin, carelessly on the floor
The boys stand along the wall
The girls stare at them all
It's the same story everywhere you go.

from the beginning of time
'til the last school bell's ring
this is the way it's always been
it seems that you can't change a thing

The teachers watch with patience
The chaperones watch in silence
The music man plays his wares
The savior seems not to care
But the game still rages on.

feeling as though immortal
feelings that seem not to die
like the breath in the lungs of the young
the days not yet numbered

The bold enter the arena
The savior came through
The few brave break ranks and join
The rest follow in and run.

days

crushed beneath the cursed weight
of the frozen rain
are the hopes
and dreams
of long summer days.

days forgotten in the
blistering heat
and
energy sapping
humidity.

patience for a recurrence
of those days
runs thin
during times like these
when you can visually see
your breath with
each
and
every
exhale.

so I'll snuggle in deep
wrapped loosely
in the arms
of a
down filled comforter
keeping the dreams alive,
the ones covered
in icy fingers,
until the days of warmth
come around...

on Politics

I have come to the conclusion
that this country
is not divided
between
Democrats and Republicans,
or the
Liberals and Conservatives,

but between those
who seek the truth to form their opinions,
and those who form their opinions and then seek what they need to support it.

- Mike Quinn, October 13, 2010

importance of views

What's important to me
may not be important to you.
And what's important to you,
may not be important to me.

So what belongs in the bigger picture?
My view? Your view?
Whose view is the less skewed?
Can that view be misconstrued
as the new tool of cool?

Break it apart.
Break them down.

Build up the bigger picture into things that dreams are made of.

\ə-ˈdik-shən

It's funny;
our addictions,
the way they sneak up on you.

Stealthily,
almost silently...
waiting until our attention
is somewhere else.

Which begs the question,
that seems to never be asked...
if we had tried to become addicted
to the things that we are addicted to,
would we really be addicted,
or just doing what we choose to do?

Tears of Job

it started with
a question...

"So what is going on? I'm dying to know."

and it brought about the response,

"Come get me"....

It led into the fun-filled fiasco's
that
only 2 friends can have.


And,

I
never
want it
to
end.



But I know it will...
and the tears flood my eyes.

Maybe I'm over-emotional because
I've been
drinking...

Maybe not.


One thing I know for certain...

No matter how much I want this to never end,
soon enough,
it will.



Thank you for MY Christmas miracle sir.

second guessing myself

When i think back
and ponder
the times that
i've been hurt
or have hurt others,
i re-live these moments
in crystal clarity
and not
in the shades of gray,
that most of my other
memories
exist in.

i don't dream of remembering
these situations as a
means
to
an
end,
but perhaps,
perhaps i should.

Maybe i need to stay inside
of my mind
until i heal from these issues
and can better
myself.

Perhaps
i'm tired
of repeating
my mistakes
and causing
so
much
pain
in my life
and
in the lives
of others...
...those loved by me
as
well
as
those whom
have placed a distance between us
because i am
deemed a toxic person.

Maybe i need to follow
Some ONE's example a little closer.
Possibly change
a few of my beliefs
because
what i am
is not
who
i should be...
...but what should i be then?

Should i be me,
or be the me
that others
want to see
me come to be?


Is my focus steady
on what will better myself
and those around me?

Does my faith define me
or
do i define my faith

through

my

beliefs?

Is holiness
truly
attainable
through
the "right" choices
or
can i ever really reach that?

Do i become like
the Jewish nation,
like
the Pharisees,
making
rule
after
rule,
in order to come
to a place
of Holiness?

Can one become distracted
from their journey
by those
who are
trying too hard to lead others
in a journey?
and
what can be done
to look past
the distraction?

All this
i cannot seem to fathom
any longer
without causing those,
whom i want to impress,
to
second guess,
the nature of my distress
without beginning
to undress
the state of
my duress
i must confess.

a looksee

What does the world see

when they see me?

Do they see the failure

that I know I am to be?

Do they see the father

to the boy plus three?

Do they see what I see,

a man not worth a pee.

When I look at me

what I see is not

the me I want to be.

But a simple man

who tries to be

more complex than

he should be.

So what do you see

when the mirror

turns on thee?