Unknown Lover
October 13, 2011
Hold my hand and
Feel in that, everything
Touch my lips and
Hear me say quiet things
Sit with me in the darkness, alone
Let me tell you that
I think you have a beautiful soul
My hands are chained and
It keeps me from everything
The world that hates us
The madness of their rage
Hide with me in the darkness, alone
In every moment hidden
We only lived a moment ago
~wbv
Mentor
March 12, 2009
You taught me
The best that you knew how
You brought me
Through difficult times
You advised me
To always follow God
But wanted me
To always follow you
When I was searching for spiritual truth
When I needed a friend
When I had reached the point of decision
At the time when I needed you most
You abandoned me
I shouldn’t be surprised
That you hurt me like you did
Because I had seen you hurt people
Over and over through the years
And was only oblivious to the impact
Because I was not the recipient
Of your hatred
But now I know you
And we are not friends
Though you fake a smile
And pretend to care for brief moments
Your follow through is non-existent
And your priorities are clear
You used the word “family”
You called me your son
I guess this “family” is defined by its limits
The limits of your patience
The limits of your love
The limits of mercy and what I once called “grace”
The limits of the tiny world you live in
And the limits of your willingness
To think outside of it
You are not my mentor
You are not my father
You are not my friend
You are not
You are not
You are not
While this may sound harsh
These are the things I needed to say
To the one who was once as close as a brother
But proved to me that only one kind of blood
Is capable of creating such a bond
That friendship has its limits
And religiously rooted “love” is extended
Only as far as it can maintain control
~wbv
Random Negativity
February 28, 2009
I’m moody
I’m a cynic
I’m overly critical
sometimes
I think too much
I get anxious
I worry
and I overreact.
I’m morally relaxed
A liberal
I’m apt to throw out
ideas for which I can’t
find believable evidence.
I can be difficult
I like both
Freedom and control
I’m full of contradictions
I’m a walking paradox
And I like it this way.
I’m overly complex
And irritatingly simple
I anticipate sadness
and difficulty
I see them as covert positives
As fuel for
The fire of the soul
Having said that,
hardship scares the hell out of me
and while I know I benefit from it
Part of me
Still hates it.
I get mad for no reason
Happy for no reason
and sometimes want to be sad
for no reason at all.
I forget important things
about important people
and sometimes don’t pay
attention to what’s being said
I can be difficult to know
Though all I want is to be known
My lack of trust
Can make that difficult.
I’m skeptical of faith
Leery of experience
And doubtful of expression.
Sometimes I would rather listen
To the orchestra in my head
Than the melody now playing
And I spend the whole movie
Just waiting
For it to end.
I’m not as peaceful as I want to be
Not as focused as I want to be
Not as kind as I want to be
Not as loving as I want to be
Not as gentle as I want to be.
“There’s always room for improvement”
Is an understatement.
~wbv
The Same Page
January 6, 2009
You might think that we’re on the same page
But I doubt it.
You look at the page numbers
And assume that everything is okay.
Do the page numbers really mean anything?
Can you render an interpretation from a number?
If the story were told on paper, maybe,
But not when the story is told in the heart.
Do you want “us” to be on the same page?
Then tear the book into pieces
Rip the pages to shreads
And scatter them on the ground before us
Ignore the chapters
Ignore the page numbers
Ignore the paragraphs and sentences
But save the words
And when we have a heap of words and paper
Spread out in front of us, We can quietly dance
across the bed of mixed meaning,
And with any luck, for a brief moment,
we will be on the same page.
~wbv
