The new 52 #13 (yes its still a thing)

This is a something I just wrote for Melissa. In the process of forging one life out of two friction happens. In these I need to be reminded just how much I need and love my wife. She is a treasure I don't deserve. She doesn't even know about it because she is sleeping in the other room. Its going to be a little surprise in the morning. I'm sorry baby.

When I said “I do” what I really meant to say is

I'll do my best to give you my all.

I'll sacrifice myself so that you won't have too.

I'll do all I can to provide for us.

I'll fight for this marriage in-spite of myself.

I'll say I'm sorry as soon as it hits me I need to.

I'll say I'm sorry a lot but mean it every time.

I'll set you up for success.

I'll take the blame for failing.

I'll sleep in the guest room because you need space.

I'll grovel at you feet when I forget to treat you with respect.

I'll need forgiveness daily.

I'll push the limits of your grace.

I won't every get being married figured out.

I'll love you more today than yesterday.

rain fall

I used to sit and watch the rain.
It always made me think of her.
We used to love just like the rain.
Sometimes hard and passionate
with nowhere to run or hide
and sometimes we wouldn't love at all
we'd just hold it in and watch the other die.
But we always knew that given time
the drought would pass and rain would fall again.
And we'd end up back in each others arms,
the only place we belonged.
Then one night I sat outside.
I waited for the rain to come.
I waited and waited but she never showed.
After that it rained no more.
Now when it rains I watch it come down.
Silently I sit focusing on the sound,
waiting for love to come back down
as thoughts of rain wash her away.

hot off the press

Here is a new poem I wrote this morning. No one else even knows it exist right now. I travel a lot by train and most of that time seems to be by myself. Last weekend as I wa son the train the rough ideas of this poem came into my mind.

My time on trains
Some times I sit and try to forget
here I am and that its not home
I try to get lost in the sky
and the colors on the trees
or words on a page
as I let my music cover me
I pretend that I'm not lonely
and that I'm quite by choice
I try to think I'm back home
and the strange names are new places
some immigrant town on my way home
But i always know the truth
the rumbling train is enough to keep me awake
and away from the dream I long to sleep.
This is what I do on a train.

The second of my freedom poems

Freedom Lies

Freedom lies on her bed at night
and cries herself to sleep
she wonders when it changed
that instead of men protecting her name
all they do is rape and shame
she cries for a man of old
that would take a stand and not withhold
an ounce of strength to hold her up
yet all her princes become thieves
who cloth their agenda in her majesty
only to swap her out for a mirror of lust
and fall in love with their power
as their world turns to dust
and freedom lies on her bed at night
and cries for those who believe the lies

read and enjoy

I've decided to begin posting my poetry on my blog so I can share it with more people. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.
This summer I found myself thinking about freedom. I ended up writing to poems about it, here is the first.

Freedom Cries
Martin Luther King once had a dream
he wanted to see freedom ring
from shining sea to sea
but what does freedom mean?
For King it means opportunity
regardless of race or creed or poverty
but could a man have these
and still be bound to slavery?
What if freedom means
something beyond all these things?
What if freedom was itself a creed?
Would this freedom creed mirror
the life we find in Christianity?
That's what Jesus sought to bring.
But I think behind church doors
lay something he'd abhor.
A congregation of freed slaves
with no chains on their feet
and yet too scared to leave.
Yet, we wonder why no one believes
while the messenger won't leave his seat.