I Just Want to go Home,

I Just Want to go Home,

but I don’t know where it is.

Is it under the blue tropical skies of Panama,
where I played as a child?

Is it in mid Michigan, surrounded by farmland,
where I fell in love each new semester?

Is it in warm and sunny San Diego,
where I lived aboard ship and traveled the world?

Is it back again to Michigan
where all my family live, and some have died?

They say home is where the heart is.
I gave her mine so many years ago.

I just want to go home,
but I don’t know where she is.

The Lonely God

The Lonely God

At the top of the world
The Wind howls in protest
to the lonely god.
“End their pain” she screams.

But the lonely god doesn’t listen.
He sits on his throne
and stares down at his creation
with apathy.

The Moon glares at the lonely god
but says nothing,
he knows the lonely god will not hear.

The lonely god ignores the Moon,
and rests his feet on Creation
like a footstool.

The Sun chides the lonely god,
“It’s been long enough”
he mourns.

But the lonely god turns his back
on the Sun,
“Does the artist owe the painting?”
he muses.

The Earth begs the lonely god
for release.
Her bowls churn in torment.

But the lonely god only looks at her
with contempt.
“I created you in my image,
so too shall you suffer”.

The Day Before Tomorrow

The Day Before Tomorrow

It’s the day before tomorrow,
some call it today.

I feel shame giving name
to such a waste of time.

I sat by the phone all day,
wondering why it never rings.
The mailbox was empty,
except for coupons
for things I will never use.
Television played nothing
but repeats.

I promise myself that tomorrow…
tomorrow I will let go.

But on this day,
the day before tomorrow,
I sit and strum an old guitar,
wondering what has become of you.

My cat nudges my leg,
“Time for bed”,
he gently purrs.
The clock has long ticked past midnight
as I drift to sleep.

When I wake,
tomorrow has eluded me again,
so I begin another
day before tomorrow.

Ghost

Ghost

I saw a ghost today,
she looked like you,
same clothes,
same hair,
same bulgy nose.

My eyes knew it wasn’t you,
but my heart was too shocked
to care.

I ran into her three times
in the aisles as I hunted for a meal.
My eyes told me the truth
but my heart begged me to believe.

The salad for one was bitter,
not like the Coneys
we used to get from Walt’s.

If I could tell you what was new,
I would tell you I quit drinking,
it never eased the pain anyway,
and I hope you would be proud.

It has been nearly four years now,
and the grief has never left,
never eased.

I force myself to live,
but there is no passion to it,
no drive,
no point.

…still, tomorrow I hope.

The End

When the end came it was a surprise to everyone. The sky looked the same as it did the day before. The birds sang and the flowers bloomed. Clouds drifted lazily through a deep blue sky. Children played blissfully unaware of the precious hours they had left. Had there been a way to prevent it, they would surely have tried. The government would have made decrees, issued laws, setup shelters. They knew nothing though. Life, for a time, simply carried on. The people lived in what peace they were accustomed to. Businesses opened on time. Commuters complained about their ride to work. Babies cried. Lovers made love.

Those who had looked to the skies for their destruction for a thousand years would have been disappointed. It didn’t come from the sky. It didn’t come from the land. It simply…came. There was no buildup. No flash. No great explosion. They were there one moment, and not the next. In the wink of an eye an entire species ceased to exist. The remnants of a once great civilization were left behind. Monuments erected to powerful leaders still stood, overlooking empty cities. Artwork hung in halls no one would ever visit. Books on every subject imaginable began to immediately collect dust. Inventions that took lifetimes to perfect stopped working. It was as if, somewhere on a great computer that tracks the universe, someone simply highlighted the entry entitled “Man” and hit delete.

Pompous and arrogant as they were, they would have been shocked to learn that the other species that had shared the land with them gave no notice of the change. Birds sang. Flowers bloomed. Clouds drifted lazily through a deep blue sky.

 

This is a silly little story that I wrote almost entirely on my Kindle Fire. I got the idea after having to delete some characters I was making for one of my animation projects. Just got to thinking how easy it might be for God to just hit that key and start over.

Some Days I Wake Up,

Some Days I Wake Up,

and feel the World is mine.
It belongs only
to me,
and I may do with it
as I please.
I may keep it,
or throw it away.
I may bite into it
and savor the juices
as they stream down my arms,
sticky and sweet.
The World is mine,
and mine alone.

The World
is a friend.
We laugh and dance,
and play together,
children of the same
fertile Mother.
We use the Moon as a ball
and run like Wind,
toward the promise of
Everything.

Some days I wake up
and feel the World is mine.