Page 4

I rest upon my whisky hand and contemplate where it began. Searching for answers between the cubes. I think about me and you. I think until thinking hurts. Until my shoulder begins to jerk. With final slam, I move on again.

As I did in page 3.





Birds & Stones

Why can’t I kill more birds with this stone?

Only two? That seems so few.

Who said that stones don’t break my bones?

Apparently someone thought they knew.
How many cheeks must we turn.

Before turning turns old.

You turn your cheek, I’ll lift this stone.

Then we’ll see events unfold.




Broken pieces picked up by me.

Never where they are meant to be.

Building upon broken bits.

I push until the pieces fit.

Until I can see inside of me.

The broken spirit there used to be.

I build around it until it sits.

Stand it up so it can’t quit.

Broken, but still useful to me.

This broken spirit inside of me.





I can reach past my domain. And find an open vein. Somewhere to hear my heart beat. And release a little bit of me.

Can I withstand. Becoming that man, again. To deny what I feel inside. To deny what is before my eyes.

I wake up to resolve. But I fall asleep by dissolving. An unfortunate balance of life. It is my daily strife.

Can I wish upon a star? Any star, just my star. Or have they all been taken from afar?

I make a candle my star.




Memory Eternal

I saw it in the heavens, in the stars.

A host of new angels traveling somewhere far.

Their flight was like a magical sight.

And yet I knew it felt just right.

An image imagined without the pain.

The memory eternal of the slain.

-Opinionated Man