Exaggerated

What is exaggerated to one person, may mean the world to another

She went; the color left his world.
His small-town life of big-time dreams
Was squashed beneath the weight of grief,
How bad a breakup often seems

For there, surrounded by the gray,
He saw no light and heard no call:
Exaggerated though this sounds,
To him, it was not so at all

A trivial domestic mess?
No. Life is naught
When purposeless

Supposed to Be

Between what is and what should have been.

The way that it’s supposed to be,
We’d be out there together;
We’d watch watch her grow concurrently,
Then loose her from the tether that is us.

That’s “we”, not “me” and “you”:
A family’s what we had,
But now, that’s all a memory,
That went from good to bad —

You took my hand and I took yours.
We loved behind these folding doors
We’ve folded up and stored away –
For there’s nothing to hide now

I see you in our daughter’s eyes:
I do not think you realize
That she still holds out hope for us
That you have smashed to pieces —

The way that it’s supposed to be
I’m here for you, you’re here for me;
But there’s no “here” where we can meet,
Your smash-and-grab job’s quite complete

You lost respect for me and so

There’s nowhere left for love to go

No ground left to find empathy

The way that it’s

Supposed

To

Be

Kitchen Breakaway

That morning, we awoke,
And I remember: runners on the beach,
And there was music, somewhere,
Through the open window,
As we munched our toast,
And drank our drinks in silence.

“What will you do?” I asked,
As though I hadn’t several times before,
And you said, “I arrive in Dallas
Around 6, I think, and then
It’s off to school. The program starts at 8.”

Twenty minutes later,
On the shell driveway,
We said a quite banal goodbye,
Me with my duffel bag,
And my old car was soon back on
The shoreline road, for 23 miles until,
I got back to the Interstate.

A breakup is like a knockout punch:
But this was more like
Us calling off the fight because
You had a better offer out-of-town,
And me understanding, because
It made sense for business.

Of all the mornings we’d spent in that kitchen
The one I remember best is me eating dry toast
And drinking a flat Dr Pepper
And wishing the runners on the beach

Had taken me with them

A Far And Favored World

Come to a far and favored world,
Where guide-less friends can meet
To walk among the singing stars
And smell the apples sweet

That hang from rich and luscious boughs
Along both hill and fen —
Yes, come to a far and favored world,
Where we can start again.

Come to a red and dusky place
Within the inner rim,
Where music’s sung by everything,
A universal hymn —

Come to river, come with me,
The sunrise never ends,
Come to a red and dusky place
Where we can still be friends.

Once, we sang for our supper when
These worlds were unexplored —
Once, you could trust the things I said,
And you could rest assured

That I would be where I said I was.
Yes everything was fine:
But that was before the great divide.
The fault – all of it’s mine.

Here on a far and favored world
It is my fate to stay
In all of it I wish that you could see,
But you won’t come today,

For everything broken, all that’s lost
Wherever all you are —
For here on a far and favored world
Your favor will

Stay far

Love Spasm the Eighth, Part 2

Sometimes I was the one aggrieved,
At times, the one aggrieving –
With her, the fault lays all with me:
Tale told, without deceiving

I chased her, summertime to fall.
Tore down her barriers of doubt;
But once I got beyond her wall,
I couldn’t get back out –

And panicked when I found back there,
That once she loved, she loved for real:
And that was more, much more than I
Was then prepared to feel.

Although I disappointed her,
To work so long to leave so fast,
The same thing would be done to me,
Before much time had passed.

And so we all will live to get,
Our turn at each role in the play:
I’m sure that she’s long over it,
But wish I had not been
That way

balanced

there was a tension always there
and both of them could feel it;
they did the motions, every day,
but neither could conceal it —

for now the thing is at their door,
the truth that needs admitting —
and what’s so finely balanced as
two hearts that feel

like quitting