Distant Sparkle

Distant sparkle in the night sky,
I stare up at you,
I wonder, why, why, why?
Light of the world I'm asking you,
How can this be, why is this tragedy true?

My feeble brain squishes inside my head,
Searching for answers from this dread,
But I feel nothing, just my numb, blank stare,
At a television picture reflecting true fear, true hell,
...
I search for you dark star,
For I know you are there,
I sense your evil everywhere,
This time as a violent thief of tiny, innocent souls,

Distant sparkle in the night sky,
I look up at you, I humbly wonder, why?
Light of the world I'm asking you,
Why did this happen? Why is this true?

And if I,

Breathe my last breath before my sun sets,

Take the risk to swim within great depths,

Walk in another man’s shoes,

Face the reality that I might lose,

And if I,

Stare into the mortal sun,

Accept blindness for not gazing down,

Stand my ground to certain death,

Live life without regrets,

And if I,

Bask in the sun’s orange glow,

Turn my skin brown, before I go,

Hope that gravity will leave me alone,

Fight the oceans’ under tow,

And if I,

Reach to touch the surface of the sun,

Burn my hand, cry in pain,

Love another, lose, and not complain,

Feel the source of an eternal flame,

Then I will,

Take time as an adventure,

Run forward into the never,

Use up all that I might endeavor,

Perhaps, then I’ll be remembered.

If I Were 13 Again...

An angelic face from adolescence, 
I am lost, swept out to sea,

As if I’m a terrified 13 year old boy, 

standing atop of a wooden schooner, 

tacking back and forth, 
a frothy, foamy sea,

Buried feelings hidden in my spirit,
at my oceans bottom, 

brush past me tidal breeze, brush past me regret, 
brush past me, 

brush past me, 
free me four winds, 

I beg,

As if my heart will burst outside my chest, 

this nuclear explosion, 

which blasts my main sail, 
across a vast unending horizon, 

my compass can no longer find true north, 

I am lost, the stars above amethyst black,

Unable to navigate, or chart a new course, 

I feel cursed, 

so I throw my heart on the quarter-deck, 
step on it, 

beat it to a pulp, 
catapult it into the sky as target practice 
for a firing squad, 
submerge it in water, 
bury it in dry ice, 
until it’s as hard as stone, 
but then hold it close, 
as I willingly walk the plank,  

Maybe I’ll drop anchor, 
and swim miles and miles from safety, 

to burn off this intimate eternal flame, 

but I could just as well be glided across limitless, 
cold space, circle Venus, 
emerge bathed in liquid time, 
but my heart would not have changed,

I don’t know what to say,

My heart aches from picking into my inner-most, 

my heart was pure, my eyes clear, 
my mind a blank slate, 

but her eyes, 
her eyes inflict to foggy my perceptions, 

as if a blind child touching and sensing,

I stumble and splash 
into my river of regrets, 

I am lost, 

will I drown from my first kiss, 

holding her warm, soft hands, 
innocence and sincere love,

For I confess, 
pure love I conceal within my heart, 

desperately I hide, 

it’s almost not fair,
to be willingly snared by this childhood affair,

Perhaps I’m just a silly poet, 

I wish I could have told her I was in pain,

I wish I could deceive myself, 
and act like I don’t care, 

but a lie to my love, 
strikes my soul, 
better I burn in hell, 
than not be truthful,

I care, 

as if my whole absorbed into her charity heart, 
before a lover, a wife, a mother,

I wish I could just turn my gaze away, 
or blind myself, 

but that’s the easy way, a boy, 
a teenager, in a man’s critical mind,

I don’t know what to say, 

I am lost, swept back, 
timeless, to forever,

Perhaps, 

I’ll do what I always do, 

play the village fool, 

try to distract my mind, 

and shield my broken heart 
from certain doom, 

honesty, to truth,

                                                
I am afraid, then and now,

A boy with an adult mind, 

a man remembering the scarred boy, 

and this wondrous, sacred scar, 

love, as constant as the tides, 

as deep as the ocean’s, 

as wide as the earth’s crust, 

and yes, 
sometimes the pain from the wound, 
causes me to cry, 

And I don’t know why,

But I’m not lost; 

I’m terrified, 

As if I’m 13 year old boy again, 

Holding a pretty girls hand, 

Afraid to hurt her,

Perhaps it’s the words a boy lacks 
the courage to say,

Straight forward, 

my mortal heart flutters, 

and my puffy cheeks turn a crimson hue, 

words born from the wellspring of my soul, 

as pure as a newborns smile,

I love you, 
beautiful childhood memory.