You tell me you don’t love yourself,
you said, your head’s in the clouds,
that you can’t catch a breath of clean air.
I’m sorry but I just can’t help you here.
 
You’re too hard on yourself
you need to give yourself a rest
there’s just no reason to push as hard as you do.
Everything is not a test.
 
It’s not you against the world,
no, that’s not the truth, you see.
You’ll never, ever be alone
as long as your world has me.
 I can’t cure all your ills
I never promised that I could.
I’m just as vulnerable as you;
where you stand now, I once stood.
 
Pull back your shoulders, grab a deep breath
ponder your future, not what you’ve left.
As the sun replaces the moon, never failing to shine,
I tell you, you’ll be alright, yes, you’ll be just fine.
 
You tell me that you don’t love yourself,
you said you’re anxious
pushed over by the slightest of winds,
constantly falling to a plethora of tears.
Don’t think for one minute your words fall on deaf ears.
 
I can’t cure what’s ailing you,
only you hold that power.
I’m trying to do the best I can
I don’t have my head buried in the sand
I will never leave you; I’ll be your strong tower.
 
These feelings that you’re trying to hide,
surrender them, cast them aside.
You are safe here with me, let your true self show.
Silence the lies and let love for yourself flow.
You’re worth all the love, I can give you
believe me I know, I know, yes, I know.

He lives with a poet in his head.
He didn’t hear one word you said,
he plays to an audience of a different kind
his words, thoughtful and full blown
layer one over another, like seeds being sown.
They fall into phrases that capture them all
as he scrambles to pen them in his harried scrawl.
 
He saunters around
his feet not quite on the ground.
I see him mostly at night, all around the town
going who knows where,
preoccupied with an eerie stare.
He walks like a man possessed
his thoughts kept guarded, close to his chest.
 
The witching hours, those few everyday
when he just needs to break away,
find him wandering about to sort things out
and deal with the clutter in his head.
Not a word to anyone has he said;
quietly snuffed out like a flame,
he disappears back whence he came
 
He lives with a poet in his head.
He sees things through a different lens
everything spins around
his thoughts, one must admit, quite profound.
It often keeps him up at night,
the fear he won’t get it just right,
that something might get away
an errant word, a brilliant lyric
verses that simply won’t obey.
He has a story to tell, words woven with magic,
sprinkled with wisdom, told in good time.
And though he likes to, his words, they need not rhyme.
 
He’s been gifted with a poet’s voice
it’s a burden of his choice,
Tens of thousands of words put down on paper
though some days he still feels like an impersonator.
How ridiculously absurd
when he can’t find the words.
Roses are red, violets are blue…
these aren’t words that’ll make a poet out of you.
Words that capture his thought and let the world in on it,
that grab listeners and to another place transports.
The voice in his head whispers, ‘you think you’re a great poet
but alas my friend, I think you’re not!’
 
He mixed his words today
but should have voided them, those that got away.
Truthful, foolish words that should never have found the air.
He should have paused a moment, perhaps offered a prayer.
Words carry tremendous weight
dispensed without wisdom, can unleash a cruel fate.
 
The poet is rendered idle.
There are no words.
How absurd, how absurd.

When laughter fails
I will walk the contour of the road
the short three miles
to where the ocean ebbs and flows.
Where for centuries it has
carved a crater in the sand and stone
growing deeper each day
exposing the under belly of the thinking rock
as it recedes with great surge to open waters.
 
When laughter fails
I will seek the highest northern peak
alive with an afghan of colors as fall sets in
stretching my mind and body as I reach to the sky.
I know that somewhere in time
everything and everyone will be one
that I will again be united
with those loved ones who have passed before me
into the absolute surrendering of all worldly fears.
 
When laughter fails
I will revisit the words I spoke to her
words that fell from my lips to her ears
bonding us forever
realizing how lucky I am to hear the words I said
and how lucky I was to hear them as she did.
Meeting me halfway to where we have gone together
not alone anymore
we hold hands as the sun falls and melts into the night
beckoning tomorrow.
 
When laughter fails
I will look into the lessons to be learned
with a more discerning eye.
I’ll get back on life’s horse again
and ride to my destiny
smiling through my sorrows
surrendering to the awe of life’s inevitability
knowing full well
there’s a quiet belly laugh on the other side of it.