Good morning sunshine :Stories from the Great Train.

There was no tunnel
There was no light
Only darkness
I waited like you said
No light ever came
It didn’t get easier, for that is how I’m made.
My job to feel, my mission to protect mine, yours.
Theirs it didn’t matter.
My job is to serve, protect, provide and guide.
Or so I thought……
Then the great train came and took me away.
I road for hours, that turned into days that stretched for a thousand, thousand life times.
Is saw.
The horror of human kind,
mothers that left their babies roadside to die, with notes that smelled of flowers and the fathers that stood by and watched.
Sin eaters that bellies shrank as their pockets grew fat with greed.
All the while I walked because I was told to.
Keep moving forward”
the sign in my head said. So I did, with no question and pride. I moved on through he, she , me and we and I kept moving until the darkness grew deep……….
So deep I fact it stopped me….
The darkness had found me…

This time it wasn’t letting go. I cried and I tried and watched as we died. But the darkness would not could move for it was mine to stay.
Until I myself asked it to go away.
Then on the darkest of day on the coolest of Summer’s nights you came to me. Turned on the brightest of light this dog dog could ever see. A machine of living proof dressed in the elegant shades of grey. Adorned it Silver and black.
You carried the light for with I seek a reason to rise again a reason to speak. The better parts of me know that I can truly see. The darkness wasn’t you….
It was always simply a part of me.

The end.
“A life in progress”
**Stories from the Great Train


Some words strung together in a possible poetic cantor.

Such treacherous words lay
upon the floor like knives
At a gun fight.
Useless unless you know what you are doing.
False pretense in a world lost to itself chewing deeper into the madness of societies chaos.
I think the God would be ashamed of us. Such lyrical genius and misspent youth climbing the walls of Babylon only to fall to their deaths in a sea of despair.
Woe does this heart break upon the rock of future past far to often.
As if to reclaim some sense of understanding as the memories of my life wash away in the sand of the Parkinsons sea.
Each grain Sand a thought, a wish, a dream lost or forgotten.
Such beautiful eyes does the night sky have and I’m sure here lips are soft as silk.
Goodnight moon and stars above take care of each other for there is nothing without love.

A life in progress


Today, not like any other day.

Each day my garden grows stronger
each day the memories of you grow longer
harder to find in the fading light.
the flowers have found their way back to me
as you never will.
but it seems i no longer need you too.

ive looked inside and found the boy,
scared and alone.
affraid that the monters will come and
take me away.
ive called to him.. And shown him the way home.
we spoke of love,loss,learning and fire flies,
fishing and wishing poles. I spoke to him and I and we and they
and it been decided it will be okay.

Each day my gardens grow stronger, more full of the flowers
that used to call our song, now only sing for me…..
each day i grow stronger, wiser, more able to understand
and accept the shaky land i walk upon with gods graces and friendly faces pave these streets of gold.

Each day my garden grows, my heart heals, my mind forget and im reminded of the clock that ticks above my head as these bones and tendons tighten and flexs, creak and crack under the dyskinetic twist of the meds.
each day my garden grows stronger and so do i.
each day i remember, i remember you less.

“a life in progress”
** yes this piece is based on my life and its events. Though probably not the ones you think. šŸ˜œšŸ˜¶



Thoughts before nap time.

Such reflection on this day of days. Thoughts choices and Internet voices.
How do we keep it all straight.
No timeline no clocks and few less mirrors. Still I linger in the past longer than I should. Like a ghost it haunts the reflections of time and yet eases the pain of another. Life is a paradox of patches created from the shared memories of others. I’m not sure what I feel about it. I think humans run from their feelings because they can’t handle them. So we wait and fall in line, turn on robot mode until the pain is gone or numbed to the point of forgetting and then we patch. We say we aren’t going to but we do and so often eventually we find ourselves in the same situations over and over again. I’m undecided on this sociological idea it actually make my tummy hurts to think about so I’m going to take a nap.
To all, be well and live, love, thrive.


If I could I would but I can’t so I won’t.(Anger Set Free)

If I gave you my heart would you tare it apart? Could you, would you know what to do with a love so tender and true.From this I have seen and what could it mean that our actions speak louder than words. Or shall it be said that whispers in bed fall upon deaf ears by daylights dawn.

A pawn I’ll not be for if I’m set free then that will be that and the last of me you’ll see.
For a fool I am not nor do I ask of a lot

Just simply to be held in your heart.
You hide behind your broken wings taking only what you want when you need it.

Leaving a wake a hurt and confusion in your path.
All in the name of reclamation of self 
All in the name of I can and me first.
Sadly when the dust settles I’ll be gone
And you’ll have missed out on the joy and happiness 
I had to share, the undying love and need to nurture and care for you
To build you up and carry you when you were weak
That will all be gone as you’ve left me in the ashes 
and broken pieces you left behind 
Francine was right, your cruel. Greedy and cruel.

Once a good time girl always a good time girl.

i should have heard the train coming. It gave me warnings it tried to say. Im here for today, but i leave tomorrow.

**a poem that i wrote a year ago that i wish i would have listened to. sometimes our subconcious knows exactly what we need but our ID self is affraid to let go.