This is my husband's poetry. He wrote it all years and years ago. It's sad he doesn't write anymore, or at least he doesn't do so publicly. But I wanted a place to put it until I can print it all out and put it into a book for him. One day I will be that good, but today is not that day... maybe for his next birthday. Hmmm. :)
In My Dreams I Can Fly
In my dreams I touch upon the reality in my heart.
I see the present as it should have been and the future as it could have been.In my dreams I see a whole different world for all those I know.
Even subconsciously my vanity imposes my presence on all others as if there were no other way for them to exist...but in an attempt to avoid digression I will repeat; in my dreams I touch upon the reality in my heart. In my dreams everyone is happier. They are happier with themselves and happier with me. Even those who I've pushed from my life are often in my dreams and even they are happy. I see my brothers with the women they always wanted or living the life they always spoke of over beer or drugs. Sometimes both, sometimes my brothers are with the women they want living the life they want and telling me all about it over beer and drugs. Because in my dreams, those of my family who have had no choice but to adopt sobriety as a way of life no longer have those issues. In my dreams we are all still on top of the world with out a care. We are still naive enough to believe that life will always be that way.
In my dreams I still see all of the women of my past. Every single one of them are happy there. They are either in love with great people or enjoying some new "them" that they discovered in my absence. They always thank me for coming into their lives and raising, teaching or even just leaving some mark on their lives. In my dreams they appreciate the fact that I left somehow because it lead to their new happier world. Vanity I know, but they are my dreams right?
In my dreams my children have become me. (how many of you can say that that would make you happy) They are thinking the way I thought, acting close to the way I did at their age with a touch of their own personality. They listen to me when I talk and eat up my words like a favorite teacher or a hero on TV and everyday I tell them about respect, love and honesty. To this I add, with great pride, what I have learned about monogamy, credit and savings. These things were simply never spoken of in my youth.
I'm sorry guys but in my dreams I am always married. Whether she is present or not I am always conscious of my wife. I'm so bad that sometimes I wake up feeling terribly guilty because in my dreams I slept with or otherwise spent intimate time with some "stranger" only to realize that the stranger was actually my Sarah and I never actually saw the person that was "playing" my wife. Or that I was cheating on one vision of her with another. Nevertheless, she is always there providing me the foundation needed to hear, enjoy and encourage everyone else's success stories.
In my dreams I am L.D. For those who do not know what that is just picture the me you knew at his very best. The dancer, the singer, the writer, the leader, the protector, the romantic. As is my families way, I am a different person to different people but in every group there is something, some spark, some je na se qua, that helped me stand out and that, my friends, is L.D. I am wrought with pride and peer induced narcissism but then again...it is MY dream. In my dreams I have a business or many businesses that are not so unlike my old business. Albeit legal, I still have the means to help others make money and grow in the ranks as they grow as people. I give out generously and receive great bouts of loyalty in return.
In my dreams every fleeting moment that I have called good in my life is a constant. No one knows my whole story. No one. Neither of my parents have been in my life for more than 10 years at a time. My oldest friend, defined by the time spent in each others company, can only claim to know about 10 years of my life. Less than that when you account for his living his own life during that time and the things that occurred that I kept secret even from him. But in my dreams all good things are there. I have a perfect social network. I have 3 or 4 different groups to satisfy my 3 or 4 ways of having fun. I have someone who seems to always be around to talk to; a live-in brother or 2 or 4 if you will. I always seem to have the money I need AND the time to spend it. I always seem to be having fun or looking forward to having fun soon. I am happy, fulfilled and content with life.
In my dreams, I remember you all and I remember you all in the best of ways. I find it difficult to remember the bad times, the arguments, the betrayals, the ugly break ups and angry words. In my dreams those things never happened or I am mature enough not to care and everyone else forgave me long ago for my part. I am loved again by many and respected by all. I am back in my former, imaginary, own little world.
In my dreams I am never alone. Thus, I search them often, study them and sometimes hide in them looking for the place were I went wrong. Looking for a sign of the very moment that a decision led to my reality. Wanting so badly to make a new decision that will take me closer to my dreams. I never find it of course; the place or time that I went wrong. No matter how hard I try I never find a decision that I wouldn't do again. Every one either lead me to great happiness or lead to another decision that was equally as rewarded. Changing any part of my life would take away the best of it, my family. So I will just dream. I will dream of a world were life is always fair, where I can have my cake and eat it to. In my dreams being me is a better, safer, easier person to be.
Malapropos
The memories haunt me sometimes to anxiety. They were always there and often bugged me or nudged me when my thoughts drifted off the path. But now...they haunt me. Daily sometimes hourly and for unbearable lengths of detail saturated reverie. Sometime I fear it is some part of me that wants to ease the guilt. While other times it seems almost like a longing. I have yet to find the triggers for these persistent glimpses into my past they come to me as random as an old song in the shower. Now that I am secured by design to a new and covetous life I find it unsettling that these memories are surfacing this way. I find it far more unsettling that I can not banish them, ignore them or even stop the progression the unsolicited replays of years past. To what end does my sub conscience, my inner mind, my very soul conjure such moments and force them upon me with out mercy.
Well I am crying out upon this page (because to speak out loud to them would surely be giving in to insanity at last) to such mind or soul or consciousness. "I beg of you, cease this barrage of malapropos memories.
Those Ones
How do they do it, the committed ones, the responsible ones.
How do they, the sober ones, the moral ones.
I'm not meant to be here with the professional ones, the suburban ones,
How long will they let me pretend, these nice ones, these legal ones.
When will I fail, these little ones, these loved ones,
What will they think, those elder ones, those parental ones.
How long till I listen to the bad ones, the hungry ones,
How long till I give up on the proud ones, the dependent ones.
Why must I have been born to those wrong ones, those evil ones,
Why must they call me, those inner ones, those demon ones.
I wish I could be one of those holy ones, those religious ones,
I wish I would be one of those driven ones, those focused ones.
But I know I will never be one of those good ones, those honorable ones,
How long will they let me stay, the watchful ones, the wiser ones.
Self Pity
And so there he sat the him the he,
Found once again as lone as can be.
Oh woe is the man the him the he,
When found that some dreams are not to be.
Alone once again where so many should be,
I pitied the man that him that he.
Still to the day he strays not to be free,
For he made a promise to always be he.
Its almost unfair the way life can be,
When the bad have the good more good than he.
Foreign is this life what he wants to be,
Where bad is the good and bad is he.
Perhaps still cursed for his immoral spree.
He finds little solace in paying the fee.
Though strong in his will to remain this he,
He can't help but lust for what should not be.
And so here he sits not bad not free,
Alone once again this him this...me.
What I Am
I wrote once, " I am that I am." I will admit that I have lost site of the particular circumstances that led me to the thought but I recall the feeling quiet vividly. Thus, in case you don't know, is the purpose for nearly all my writing. I add to my "box of sorrows grace" for the pleasure of recalling and recontemplating if not the actual moment then at the least the very emotion of the time. This particular time or emotion, as I recall, was not spored of a specific person or moment but more of a frustration in the face of so many that felt disappointed in me because I was not who they wanted me to be.
These people would ask me who I was and then seemingly space out as I told them. Selectively taking in the parts they wanted and dismissing the rest. Some were just stupid, some horny, and many, many were under the impression that I would change someday. I am quite the collection of all that is good and bad in a man. So good in fact that many wished, hoped,prayed and sometimes pushed for my faults (as many and strong as my goods) to adapt or change. But, alas, they never did.
I am that I am. Many of my family tried to teach me to smother my "good" points like; faith in others, patience, relationship loyalty and honesty. While most women tried to curb my; ego, flirtatious nature, tendency for roaming and most of all my addictions.
All have failed. I am still all of the above and everyone in my previous life that did not understand or except All of the above are no longer a major part of my life. Between you and I.... That is most of them. Hell, nearly all of them. I mean I did try for many of them. I tried to be a loner for my protective father, I tried to be less intelligent for my sister who felt I didn't fit in with minority society. I tried to be a heartless hustler for my brothers. I tried to be faithful and devoted for the first woman I met that deserved it. I tried to be sober for recovering brothers and for the first girl with the audacity to ask. I am even guilty of denial (everyone who knows me, knows that I am the king of calling it how it is) for the sake of my children. I have even tried to choose a side for myself and be a stronger (worse) man and at other times a kinder (better) man. (by my opinion anyway)
All and all, I have tried to be better or worse than the man I am for most of my life with no avail. Then one day I met this person. Completely random, I assure you. We were not each others type, neither of us were alone that night and frankly we really didn't get along very well at first. Yet, from the very first time I saw her I new there was something I needed from her. So I sought her out. I learned who she was, what she liked and as repulsive as some of this info was to me.... I still felt that she was meant to have a chapter in my life. It turns out that what this young lady had was a genuine attraction for the real me. Now, to be clear, she was not the type that simply excepted everyone for who they are. I have seen her bring many other (usually weaker) people (usually men) to their knees and most often to tears because she did not except who they were or vise versa. But, when it came to me...she seemed to just get it. She listened as I spoke about my goods and bads and she got it. She got it so well that she was often able to predict my needs: sometimes even before I knew I needed them. She and I seemed in tuned. I gave her what she wanted and needed, as is my way, and she gave me what I needed or wanted. It was amazing! Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of obstacles (remember, we were not alone when we met) but I had never met a person who could actually understand my needs versus just trying to please me.
You know its ironic, I have become hopelessly devoted. I have always been faithful and honest with her. I have learned to put me and mine in front of others. I have hustled heartlessly for her, been a loner for her and yes, I have even volunteered and succeeded at being sober for periods of time for her. The whole time she just watched and said, "thank you, but you know you don't have to."
I don't wonder to far from home, I refuse to go to houses or get into situations that may be inappropriate or even look bad. I have been doing all the things that everyone else has ever asked me to do and she has never asked me to do a single one of them.
This, my wife, has been the single most amazing adventure in my life. What I thought was a chapter in my life turned out to be the beginning of the whole book. Every thing I experienced before her was simply training to be the man she needed. It was only research in preparation to write the book of my life...
With her by my side and with me what I am.
Kirkland
So I went to Kirkland last night for the first time in way to long. For those who don't know, Kirkland is the town where the beautiful people go....
I must say it was everything I remember it to be. I met up with a few old friends, danced the old dances, flirted the old flirts and drank my A$$ off! Man if those guys and gals new I was a 32 year old married man...
After all this time its still nice to be me.
My Way
You know, I think I will always be like me. I have changed over the years. From Hopelessly romantic to hopelessly cynical and back again. I've gone from power hungry to power-fobic. But I was always me in the process and being Me has always worked. I turn heart breaks into sexcapades and I'm the only one in my life that considers hitting rock bottom a Bi-annual vacation from life's stresses. I've always tried to listen to my brothers as they led led me through my more awkward younger years and now I try to listen to my wife as she attempts to teach me self preservation....
But, in the end, I am always me. I can't help it. When I get myself into a jam its always my ways that get me back out again. Sometimes I wish I could do it someone else's way but when the stakes are high I simply have no choice. "THIS IS A CASE THAT CALLS FOR!!!!!!!"...me.
And being me has never failed me.
I Saw Her Once Again
I saw her the other night. I saw the girl that I adore. She didn't notice me watching her, I'm not sure she even knew I was even there. But, I saw her. Man, I am so physically, emotionally and overly in love with her. She doesn't know it any more because we simply don't talk like that any more and I don't write like that anymore but…..
The envy, the pride, the desire I feel when ever I see her of even her picture, the sound of her voice if only on a voice mail….
Yeah, I am in love with her still. I am sure now that I always will be.
Self Discussed
Slumped in chemically evoked over analysis
Square caved in my increasingly familiar state
Set upon a perch for more than three
Quite capacious for me and my beleaguerment
Sorrows grace alights my lap
Contrition alights my shoulders
The depth of its consolation can be superficial at most
Yet mentally restrained in this stutter of time I remain
Spits of barely coherent written descriptions of inside
Pulses and impulses swirl from head to toe to paper to eye
Imitation conversation self-consciously administered
In failed attempts at understanding, overcoming and adaptation
Still, the diagnosis of selfish love comes deciphered from spit
Leading once again to self-flagellation- the cause for dejection
Flawed and missing means of ascent haunt the sub conscience
Perpetual feelings are rarely willing to entertain reality's rationality
You
I remember you,
Your laugh... your smile, the way you look, the way you smell. I remember the way you spoke to me when I knew what I needed to hear. And I especially remember the way you spoke when I had no idea what I needed. You were always there for me in our little way and you never judged me for my little ways. There has never been a person ever in my life that treated me the way you did and I guess...
Well, I guess I just wanted to say that I remember you and miss you. And I'll never forget.
We Were There
I was there and she was there,
And noone knew the differance.
I was there and she was there,
And we remembered the reference.
I was there when she noticed that she was with me,
And she was there when I noticed that she came to agree.
We were in love and in lust and caught in our bliss,
When we both found the product of our elicit kiss.
I was there and she was there when our lives turn more chore than spontinuity,
She was there as I was there yesturday when we looked into eachother's eyes for clarity.
Just for the record I must confess that I don't think I was there when she realized the life she asked for,
But I watched as she stumbled and faught with the life she always new she was made to adore.
I may or may not be here when she decides what she truely wants in life,
But I promise that I will be there every moment given to me by my wonderful wife.
They Call It Romance
And they call it romance
He adores her and gushes over her
And they call it romance
He writes to her and sings to her
And they call it romance
He works for her and he spends for her
And they call it romance
He sweats for her and he may bleed for her
And they call it romance
He pledges love to her and he confesses his obsession for her
And they call it romance
She loves him and holds him
And they call it romance
She gives up her toys for him and stands for him
And they call it romance
She gives her future for him and becomes for him
And they call it romance
She cooks for him and cleans for him
And they call it romance
She bares a child for him and grows for him
And they call it romance
But when I tell her that I'd die for her and she says she will die with me
They assume its the way it should be.
Then one day I look at her and she stares at me,
And we all realize that its what they all wanted to see.
