Poems

I am not a poet. As life has progressed writing poetry has become a channel for processing pain, struggle, and hope. I hope you can connect or find hope in some of them.

Sometime I feel

Sometime I feel sad

Sometimes I’m so sad it wakes me up at night.

Sometimes I think sad is the only thing I know how to feel.

Sometimes i worry that  sad  is all I have left to feel

Sometimes I’m pissed that I’m sad.

Sometimes I want to be held and told that my sadness is ok.

Sometimes I want to be a million miles away from everyone so I can be sad without guilt.

Sometimes I feel my sadness has ruined me.

Sometimes I feel so bad about my sadness that I feel like my heart may actually explode.

Sometimes I feel sad.

But is that ok?

But am I ok?

Is this it?

a morning fog

A damp quite

heavy

still

wet socks

you want warmth

and the joy of sunlight.

But the damp chill

morning suits you well.

It’s in the quiet stillness

that your mind reminds

you of your sorrow.

You grow to know it.

Through years, peaks

and valleys.

He is your companion

and you his purpose.

Untitled 2022

The heart is a liar you’re mind is a murderer

there is no pain there is no Hope you are only you

You toss and you turn

You search for salvation

Away from this thought

An escape from your demons

Your mind is a fire your thoughts are like gasoline

Burning your way out

This can’t be sustained

How long can you boil

Until you are empty

You sleep and repeat

And you fear the answer

We all sleep and repeat

And ignore the question.

You take the medicine

But there is no cure

It dulls the blade but it never leaves

Joy in Soil 6/6/22

There are many joys to be found in soil

And all it can bare.

Beyond the more obvious fruits the soil can bare.

The watering and tilling.

The knowing and cultivating.

But even beyond those physical experiences,

There is maybe a greater impact.

When one takes on the pleasure of gardening

They can not help but to slow.

To notice

Growth

To notice

Decay.

To see the seasons come and go.

And often to see a life come into being

Produce fruit

And pass away.

From the soil, to the soil.

Toil 2-5-22

Feelings of Sisyphus

Feelings of despair

I am the victim

I am the aggressor

I am the butcher

I am the hog

Paul hates what

He does, but he persists

I hate who I am

I must persist

When doubt meets toil

All is despair

All is doubt

All is toil

All is despair

We move forward

What is toil?

What is self pity?

We move forwardd.

Fall 1, 10/16/21

Windows open, bare feet 

Enjoyably cool, everything slowing

Everything speeding, a settling 

Into new chaos, will this bring

Rest? Will it bring sorrow?

Is there rest without sorrow? 

All things change, all things stay.

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Essays