Category Archives: Dark lanes

Thirty Going On Infinite

There are eight months before I bid goodbye

To just the second decade of my life

Yet, I feel infinitely old

Weighed down by an invisible hand on my heart

I struggle to sense authenticity in

Anything I feel now

I feel like a fake particularly when I laugh

I fear the tightening around my throat

When I struggle to let loose the words

That crowd within me

And when I do manage to say something

The release brings me no relief

Instead, I find I dislike the sound of myself

And the grass seems greener when I don’t utter a word


I now know that most people don’t listen

They only talk, often without listening to themselves either

And there are a few, like me, who are born

To just listen and offer no comment

To just speak when spoken to

To just breathe until I don’t have to




Why then?

Years after we became strangers 

I am riddled with thoughts 

Of a melded past

Of the reams of memories 

So unsatisfying 

Of those lost moments 

Just out of grasp

Tell me, 

Why must life be irreversible? 

Why must we always move forward?

And why then can’t we ever forget?

Loving the memory

A trickster, my mind

It shows me not what 

I want to see; but what it

Chooses to remember

Completely out of control

I am at the mercy 

Of its cruelty

Intent on piling 

New memories atop

Old, cherished ones…

Under the choking weight 

Of all things new,

The old are dying a slow

Death; and their demise

Fails to move me

From the depths 

They have fallen into…

Today, I know most of them

Have escaped into the Universe

Where they float, free from all

That binding weight;

Free from being called upon

By someone who was

Reduced to loving them

Instead of the person

With whom she made them.


Words crowd the inside

Of my mouth

Unspoken and chained 

To my throat,

They jostle for space;

For expression.

Yet, my mouth remains

Sealed; the wax of

Solitude pursing

My lips together…

In this climate of silence

My ears fill with 

Painfully loud words

I wish I could release

Into this world…

But, no moment seems

The right moment

No person holds

The right key

And no monologue

Begs to turn into

A dialogue.

R.I.P. Robin Williams :(

What does it mean

When a clown dies

Out of sadness?

That there is nothing

Truly funny in life?

That what you give 

Isn’t always what you take?

That nobody really 

Knew you for you?

That you were just

A shadow pinned to

The ground by an

Intangible grief?

That yours was a

Disguise we completely

Believed in?

That you lived in

The blur between the

Joyful and the joyless?

Statue of Liberty

The sky has turned
Red with sunrise
Blue with sunshine
Grey with clouds
And purple with sunset
I saw the Sun moving
Between my temples
I know the clock hands
Have toiled their way
Through the seconds
I see the World going by
Yet, I remain immovable
Set in stone,
I am the Statue of Liberty.

Death muse

Will I know death
When it breathes behind me?
Will I be scared?
Or should I be relieved?
Is there a way
To cheat death…
Make it come sooner
Than intended?


Each day was begun with a death
Of flimsy paper,
Ripped violently from
A kitschy calendar

The hours tumbled down
An unforgiving clock
The hands shoved and heaped
The minutes away
And another day ended

Everything in the world
A phoenix of no magic
Everything died unto itself
And was born unto itself
There is no myth
For we empty it out

The broken bulb

In a world of glowering tungsten
The lone, broken bulb
Couldn’t remember
Who broke it…

Everything was a brightness
A sheen so pervasive
Hiding crimes
And fails
With twinkles

Not even shadows
Could be dark here
And the broken bulb stood
Useless; faceless,
Like riches among the


Eyes that saw me…
The moments that you saw me
Would they resurrect
If I begged?
Like the unexpected boon?