The Roadie

Finding new roads wearing the same shoes
Scenery may change paying the dues

Rivers to cross hills to climb
Familiar footprints stamped in sand

Follow to a new beginning
Baggage still in hand

Where the trail will lead
The answer may be around the bend

Surely another crossroad
Maybe one will end with zen


The Prism Break

Dust in the clearing
Spilled milk on the floor
Smoke without the fire
Lights on…nobody home

All paths lead to nowhere
Faucet constant on the drip
Message floating in a bottle
One way ticket not round trip

Seeing with new glasses
Emporer has a new suit
Oasis on the desert
Pide piper lost his flute

Rain on a tin roof
Daybreak the night away
Sun powers through the mist
Forecasting color over stained grey

The Phenomenon

On a positive yet strange note….

It appears that here in my little corner of central Texas, that a strange phenomenon is occuring.

What seems to be particles of H2O are falling from the sky at an exponential rate.

Not sure what to make of it.

Conspiracy theorist in our area are saying it will probably be happening all day quite possibly into tomorrow.

Also strange noises that resemble a bowling being throw down an alley and flashes of light from the sky as well.

Strange days, indeed.

The Brewing

After 18 years of continuous sobriety my wife started drinking again.

Not being able to adopt the baby was the final straw in a haystack built over a lifetime of trauma that sealed the deal.

18 years.

We have been married for over 13.

Simple math.

I had never seen her drink alcohol.

Now I have.

To say that there will be a rough road ahead is an understatement.

But, I said “I do” to ALL of the cliche vows that go with being married and I’m sticking to them.

We met in sobriety. I didn’t marry her because of it.

I love her and will do whatever it takes to help her.

Except, drink with her.

The storm is brewing, another change on the horizon.

Damn, this life.

The Dream Door

Woke up in the lost
No memory to retrace

The all around is barren
Of all time and space

Wander around
Through old bones and sand

Optics of an oasis for a moment
Before fire overtakes the land

The sand is like quick
Suctioning my bare feet

Conscience is fading
Slow envelopement of heat

An old wooden door
Atop the next dune

Reality under siege
Fragments of an anime cartoon

Skeleton key rests
Inside an icy velvet box

Door frame beginning to melt
Watching eyes in the knots

Place the key in the slot
My arm starts to freeze

The flames disappear
Body temperature drops 30 degrees

The door flings open
I screamed at the sight

At 150 decibels of sound
I shattered like glass from fright

The door slowly closes
The key returns to its throne

My final destination
Is amongst the old bones