A whisper in a dead man's ear

I whisper in a dead man’s ear,
The things that I have done,
The places I have been to,
and the races I have run.

The fires I have started,
and the bridges burned away,
The lost and the forgotten,
That still haunt me here today.

The scars that I’ve acquired,
That now tell me who I am,
The lives that I have tortured,
and the souls that I have damned.

The depths that I had fallen to,
The pits where I did dwell,
The pain that I had overcome,
Within my self made hell.

I told him of the catacombs,
That exist within my mind,
Darkened corridors of doubt,
That have haunted me through time.

I spoke of those who did me wrong,
and the vengeance that I took,
Of those who tried to stand beside,
All too often overlooked.

Then when I finished talking,
I bowed down my head to pray,
I laid my burdens in his hands,
As I slowly walked away.

I heard his voice inside my head,
The words echoed in my heart,
Each day is a new beginning,
Let this one be your start.

Lost

I find no solace these days.  The pain that has tormented me from my past shows no sign of relenting in my future.  The images that have been burned into my soul are as vivid today as they were when I first laid gaze on their horrid miss happenings.  I have danced in the fiery blaze of hells inferno, and walked away, but did not escape un-scorched by the flames. I have lost the feeling that I once cherished, the sensations that define a human and make a man.  Love, trust, faith: these are all lost somewhere on the roads I have traversed. They have been replaced by a jaded melancholy that engulfs my soul, and in that, the man that I would become.  I have seen the arrival and loss of so many that I am numb to the elation or distress that those moments would have previously elicited from me. I stand before the mirror, and the image that reflects there is empty and cold, the eyes lacking depth, the face lacking a luster, and the music that once echoed, now long silenced, where the empty shell of an existence has replaced the reflection of a man once vibrant with life.  I am a prisoner of a past that I could not control, and a future I cannot foretell. This life entombed me, and in the darkness of the hell that I have created I have lost my way. 

Work in progress

You can never escape your own heart.  It creeps into your mind, and saturates every thought with memories of what once was.  It corrupts rational thought, and makes the once unbearable, seem somewhat less than a minor annoyance.  The heart can turn loss into disaster, and love into a fantasy.  It can create fire from smoldering embers, and rain from a single tear.  Our hearts can distort every thought, and dream, and either tricks us into believing, or chase us from reality.  

A Memo from the Management.

From this day forward and furthermore:

If you have walked away without saying goodbye,

If you have trampled my heart,

If you have mistaken my kindness for weakness,

If you have lied to me,

If you have cheated on me,

If you have doubted me,

If you have left me,

If you have pretended to be my friend,

If you put me on the curb with the garbage,

If you blamed your problems on me,

If you tried to hurt me to make yourself feel better,

If you were generally an undesirable person in my life,

If you belong to some other idea that I missed, and you know who you are,

IT ENDS TODAY!!!!!!!!

I am no longer your punching bag.

There will be no more excuses made for you.

I will no longer accept you in my life.

If you are one of these people, you don't deserve my friendship, my heart, my hand, my mind, or my time.

This is non-negotiable.  There will be no exceptions. 

Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter,

The Management.

Biker

I may not be the best looking, I may not be the strongest, I may not be the smartest, but I am a biker, and we understand brotherhood, loyalty, and the true value of another human being.    We are the first ones to show up when the shit hits the fan, and the last ones, well, we never really leave.  We have been tested by the weather, and society, and though often cast off; we are the ones who never change.  We have walked both sides of the track, and understand both sides of the story.  If you are our friend, then you are our family.  We stop on the side of the road to check on you, we offer what we have to help even if we have nothing but time.  We are bikers.  We aren’t Calvin Kline models, we aren’t business moguls, and we aren’t wrapped up in image or public perception.  We are trying to live our short lives to the best of our ability while creating a family beyond our own flesh and blood.  We call our friends brothers and sisters, our children call our friends uncles and aunts.  We are the family for those who have none; we are the strength for those that can’t stand on their own.  We stand by our convictions, and fight for what we believe in.  We are bikers, we are proud, and we are strong.

Unrequited

Not soft this emotion that burns from within me. This unrequited feeling that twists my thoughts to their will, and turns my heart against my mind as so many great loves have done before. I have tasted the pain and seen the deceit that my heart has so wittingly placed upon me so many times before in this meager life, yet still I return thirsty for more. Thirsty for the power of emotion that will wash over me, and the loss of focus that will enrapture my world while I am in the throws of this depth of life that can only be offered to one who is truly in love. To merely speak the word towards the one whom holds your soul and whom your heart dances for is unto itself the great redeemer of past pain, and lessons learned. Each and every time my eyes behold her beauty, at every opportunity my ears happen upon the sound of her voice as she speaks, every motion I am graced with seeing, or touch I have felt is branded into my heart, and etched into my memory. The passion that burns within me at the very thought of her, simply knowing she exists within this world, is akin to the surface of the sun. Yet as all unrequited love must be, there can be no return. There will never be the exchange of glances that once stopped hearts, only looks of past fancy. I find no solace in knowing that I am no regret of hers, but merely a memory. A moment in her life that, while endearing itself unto me forever, has passed from her. No longer to hear I love you uttered from her lips, and no more to see not only to the passion in her eye, but to the longing in her heart and soul. There is no pain like that of loving one who can never love you back. Yet I can never give up the possibility that one day perhaps, by chance of the slimmest of margin she will look to me again as the one who can hold her heart and renew the fire that is all but extinguished. I will not allow myself to lose faith that while she may not yet feel it, there is still smoldering in her heart a small spark that may reignite the fire that so briefly and still so passionately burned within her. I can never lose hope, for then I am lost. The last thread of my heartstrings cut from me, and discarded to the cold, waiting ground below. Until success or death I will hold to the faintest of hope, and watch as those circumstances that keep us apart, fade. I will wait till whatever cruel master fate works for is satisfied, and the distance that prevents our love from being dwindles. Till the gaping space between us is nothing more than the thickness of a butterflies wing, and once again I can hold you in my arms. Until that time, I will love you in silence, and long for you in the quiet torment of my soul.

The whisper

I walked into a darkened room and heard a voice riding on the whispers of the wind outside

It called to me, knew me and my possibilities, danced into my mind like dandelions on the breeze
It beckoned I hear its warnings and caressed my concerns and fears
It taunted my doubts so that they were no longer prominent in my mind, and I was at ease
I left the room feeling at peace with the world, yet longing to know more
Each night I would return there and listen to the voices that carried my hopes and dreams
Each night I would learn more of myself, and understand more clearly the man I was to become, and the man I was already
My past pains vanished with the knowledge of my future
My hardships that I have overcome have shaped my present and no longer linger in my heart
Each night I learned how to look to the world with open eyes and an open heart
I learned acceptance without expectations
Acceptance of myself, of others, of things I could not change, simply of the world around me
I learned perseverance, and strength of character
I learned that all I hoped to be, I already was
I have lived in a world of expectations and thus never learned to accept myself
I looked to the past and learned from my mistakes
All that I have overcome has shaped the man standing before the mirror each day
I live in the present and accept my life counting each blessing
Celebrating each day with renewed vigor, my thirst for life cannot be quenched
All the while I never spoke, merely listened, learned, absorbed
When at once the whispers quieted and became distance
I screamed at the voice, “HOW CAN I KNOW THIS TO BE TRUE? You are but a whisper in my mind.”
The whisper returned, “Believe, accept, and overcome.” and with that the whisper was gone.