Where I am

Cute (G)

You see me here, yet I am not

For I’m in your smiles, your hearts, your thoughts

Your laughs, your tears, your oldest fears

Your past, your now, your future years

Your children’s face, your elders’ grace

I live in there, that ‘always’ place

And if you took a single look

At any page within this book

Start to finish, through and through

You’d find yourself, and you, and you

For each of you has touched my life

In times of plenty, quiet, and strife

I live there still as you can see

So, all of you… is all of me

And when it’s time to leave this place

To fill this warmth with empty space

Remember, dear loved ones here

In all your hearts I’m always near


El Lugar Donde Vivo


Me ves aquí, pero no soy

Porque estoy en tus sonrisas, tus corazones, tus pensamientos

Tus risas, tus lágrimas, tus miedos más antiguos

Tu pasado, tu ahora, tus años futuros

La cara de tus hijos, la gracia de tus mayores

Vivo allí, ese lugar "siempre"

Y si echas un solo vistazo

En cualquier página de este libro

De principio a fin, y en cada palabra

Te encontrarás a ti mismo, y a ti, y a ti

Por cada uno de ustedes ha tocado mi vida

En tiempos de abundancia, tranquilidad y lucha

Vivo allí todavía como puedes ver

Entonces, todos ustedes ... son todos de mi

Y cuando es hora de dejar este lugar

Para llenar esta calidez con un espacio vacío

Recuerden, seres queridos aquí

En todos tus corazones siempre estoy cerca

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Via con Dios, Angelita.

Gracias por la mano de su hija, y gracias por permitirme unirme a tu familia.

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Twofold Times

Cute (G)

What a strange and twofold time

This hour of smiles and tears

When loved ones now and then all pluck

Mere moments from the years


When all recall not merely joy

But rancor, loss and pain

And somehow feel a common strength

When relived all again


The words that fill the whispers

That slip from trembling lips

May be all happiness and ire

All anger, fear and quips


Only now, this twofold time

This hour of smiles and tears

Do all the memories that we share

Come through the well-plucked years

Goodbye Charles Strange

Let me tell you about a neighbor of mine.

He had been my neighbor since 1979.

He had a loving wife and two children

He has died but we will see him again.

His death is hard for his friends and family to face.

He's in Heaven now which is a far better place.

It's tragic because his life came to an end

He was a great neighbor and a friend.

When I learned that he died, it was very sad.

But now he's in Heaven with my mom and dad.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dedicated to Charles Strange who died of cancer at the age of 62 on January 9, 2018.

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I am on top of the world

and then packing up this little room

without warning

I speed down the slope,

I don’t want to count down the days

but that’s all I’m ever doing.


I count by tears,

by memories and 3ams,

by your heartbeats when I don’t want to move.


I count by unavoidable smiles,

by wishing and bad decisions I still don’t regret,

by sevens and by everything you love.


When I break I need to push you away,


I’ve already crumbled

too much in your hands.


Nothing will never be close enough as right down the hallway.


Every little corner smells like you.

This feels like I am folding up all your little pieces

and when I leave so soon

they are tearing me from you.


Every little corner smells like you.

This feels like I am folding up all your little pieces

and bringing them home.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/9/17

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Goodbyes are the only promises I will make.


You can pretend we won’t hang by a thread tomorrow

we can survive the fraying

but from this far away I can’t color you in,

I can’t fit smiles and leaving together like puzzle pieces…

this is the first and last time you will see me cry.


Goodbyes are the only things I will leave here.


Now I seem to slip down all the slopes,

can’t hold myself to the ground without you,

I have always been afraid of the sky

but I’m more afraid of being buried alone beneath my feet

so I will take a running start.


Goodbyes are the only things I will let fall like hope.


When I tell my words to touch you for the last time

you know I will take any excuse to stay here a second longer,

I will write you into quicksand so I’m rooted.


But goodbyes are the only promises I will make.

Give me a different hello

and I will make you a better promise.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 3/15/17

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What could've been

Sitting alone with you in the dark,

Intently staring, just waiting for a sign.

You lean over and our mouths collide.

An eruption of passion,

Quickly followed by self control.

Both wanting to give in, but knowing we shouldn't.

Playing a dangerous game and seeing how many lines we can cross.

The warmth of your breath in my ear,

The graze of your lips across my neck,

It's getting harder, I want to explode.

I quickly whisper, "Be careful, you don't know what you're doing."

But, you knew.

As our hearts beat in sync as our chests rise and fall together

You grip me with your legs and gently bite my neck.

Sweat is starting to pour.

My mind and heart is in a race.

I want you!

I need you!

You're begging me without words.

Why can't I give in?

I drive you home and say goodbye.

I turn around and drive away.

Leaving with only the memory of what could've been.

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Treading This Gray (day 76)

It would hurt less if I had enough letters

to find you and know you miss me

or know you don’t at all, you’re happy, you don’t regret any of it, your life is even more beautiful than you.


It would hurt less if I wasn’t treading this gray in between.


I don’t know if you’re still reaching for the gap in the stars

or if you turned your back and you’re heading home.

I keep lying to myself that every single stroke is the last one for you.

But maybe the more ink I spend

I can reach out past the void and catch you by your string as it drags by,

make you remember when all the other humans were afterthoughts as we stood on the skyline,

knowing no matter how slowly the ship lights traveled we would be home soon and we would have to write our goodbyes.


I wish I could say I knew your whole story

instead I’m wading back and forth

between the shoreline and the sea,

pacing the memories paved along my skin.


It would hurt less if I wasn’t treading this gray in between.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 10/11/16


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Goodbye, old friend.


They say every goodbye leads to a new hello,


But I would rather have another one with you,


One more smile, one more hug, one more memory,


But now I must let you go,


Goodbye, old friend.




Goodbye, old friend.


I will never forget that out of control laugh,


The music we shared and the love that we had,


What I wouldn’t do to sing and laugh with you again,


Perhaps one day we can, but for now,


Goodbye, old friend.




Goodbye, old friend.


Remember those late night car rides?


Remember getting in and out of trouble?


Remember the fun that we had?


Because I will never forget…


Goodbye, old friend.




Goodbye, old friend.


I suppose this is the last goodbye,


The time has come, and I have moved on,


I hope one day we can change this,


And we can say hello once more, but until that day,


Goodbye, old friend.

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Questions that will never be answered (day 64)

I think I might ask too many questions


How I couldn’t pick you out from the top of a ski slope but I found you so fast in a crowd


How the first word I said to you didn’t come out wrong


How of all the humans walking the earth in that place at that moment, the one you kept cutting in line for was me


How your smile sounds like a fireplace

even when we’re in a freezing dark gazebo, embracing the almost dawn and trying to hide from the ones who pull us apart


How you can’t leave now became you can’t stay but you can’t walk away without starting and not finishing our last conversation


How I could cut the strings, how I could say goodbye without wrapping it up and presenting it to you like a memorial with a five hundred pound weight attached to it so you won’t go


How the hell I managed to keep my eyes open that night until the glowing cracks of dawn


or then again how I could have ever fallen asleep on that picnic bench before even midnight, without knowing you yet


Questions that will never be answered…

those are the kinds of questions we ask

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 10/2/16

Cracks of dawn

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