I've Got This Space

I've got
this space
in my head

one
where
all my broken-ness
isn't bad
nor good

but just
a way to know me.

I've got
this space
all about me

where
I hide
and doubt my cover
and where I become
one of the drones

passing every
other by
without interruption.

But this space
should be
one
where
a smile ripples
face to face
like a wave from island
to island
and somewhere
land.

Not a space
where the needier
one is, the less
desirable
they are.

One where the smile
meets a mass
more than any sheer count
proclaims.

I've got
this regret
that I won't do my part.

That I'll be a stone
by the time
I am reached.

For now
I am going
to close my eyes
and dream
of that smile
that should only be.

wearing thin

The jeans are wearing
right off the legs
of this society

the shirt is thin
the back is getting burned
right through the threads that remain
as the sun climbs to its midday thrown

the feet are finding there place
now that the calluses are finally setting in

this is already the end
what follows is new
what follows may
         be
     or may kill
or may recreate

beautiful brown hair
gone gray
softness turned crisp

I hate the sun now
so dry this month
I know it just does its thing
and this is in me and the ground surrounding
but it is what I see and feel the strongest
so back I direct
what I have

there was suppose to be more

there was suppose
     to be more
done with less diversion
less done with pre
     occupation

this is no longer
     okay
this is no longer
     me

every day
takes away
     a bit too much life

this is no longer
     me
this is what is left

worn
     thin
         tough
             fat

this is mud
not water

and it flows
only one way

I'm going up

there was suppose
     to be more

this was all suppose to matter

the done
     worth doing
the done
     worth being
     proud of

this is no longer
     okay
         this is no longer

Out Live

When my life
can't out live its style

I should have
so much
more to show

when my deeds
sacrifice
my health.

I should have
so many
saved up feelings.

But no
my life
can not out live its style,

can't survive
the short sided
bliss.

in my hands

the world
in my hands

my daughter
half way through the year
to three

climbs up
into my lap

finds
in my two dirty hands
not the garden I've been digging
or the trees I have been keeping to a size
all my own

she takes the fingers
starts them in a conversation

then walks hers
through the valleys
and rivers
darkened with sediment
from my yard work

they are full
of roads leading places

of so much yet to be
is her moment

valleys, mountains, bumps and climbs

the world
in
my hands

in
my arms
for awhile
while she'll let me join in

this will never be

this will never be

just like the inappropriate
use of words of infinite natures
from the mounts of finite
and mortal beings

you say forever
but you know
you mean years
if that much at all

you say what we've done
is bigger than us
but once we're dust
they'll be at best a few foot notes

all these memories
all these desires
all these steps
the product of cells
already heading out the door

this is what drives us mad
this is what drives us religious
this is what drives us
to try
to believe
or create

or to mow over the world

hoping
to leave

leave a mark

a scar
big enough to be
forever

Standing

pushing a river
uphill

trying
all
reason

and failing

standing
tall
in an atmosphere
that smothers me
reduces me
to a
tiny spec

dust in the fabric

standing

trying
to
find

holding on
to my little place

hoping
to be