Pieces of Gravity

Pretending to be normal helps.

Month: June, 2013

Beautiful Creature

Beautiful creature

You broke my heart

I lost my light

To remain in the dark


You faded away

Put a crack in my soul

I don’t know who I am

My daylight is gone


With broken wings

I am falling through

My own destruction

I won’t blame you


Why did you leave

I was everything to you

My beautiful creature

You know not what you do


Without my light

Nothing is the same

The color has gone

Everything is gray


I seek my escape

You were the purest of pure

You altered my darkness

Of that, I am sure


I need my light

No patching my heart

Changed forever

I wait in the dark

Sunday Dinners

Table set

glasses filled

with sweet tea

smell of fresh biscuits

flowing from the small

wicker basket

under a white linen covering

amongst the chatter and clatter

dessert calls from the oven

again and again

those gathered together

respectfully bow their heads

in thanks

for food they are to receive

and for the hands that prepared

fond memories

shared around the dinner table

on countless Sunday evenings


She pretends

when she sees him

her pulse doesn’t race

but his magnetic blue eyes

are an electric maze

what’s behind them?

where do they lead?

what’s in his soul?

is it shallow or deep?

he has a hold on her

she’s in denial


She pretends

she doesn’t think about him

more than she should

what is the right amount  

 a foolish girl is allowed

to supplement her thoughts

with needless wonder

does he notice her?

does he know her name?

or the color of her eyes?

and the next time their paths cross 

what should she say?

too many questions

forbidden to ask

all unanswered

no one to blame


She will pretend

he’s a fleeting crush

this too shall pass

and when it doesn’t

she will…..

she will pretend it has

she is good

she is good

she will tell herself at night

being foolish isn’t easy


she will pretend

she will pretend

she is not

she is not


The Big Report

Arthur walked in and kissed his wife Linda on the cheek as she was pulling a roast from the oven. “Boy that smells good.  I’m famished after the day I’ve had.”

“Did you have a bad day, honey?”

“Oh, Ed is riding me about this big report still.”

“Sounds serious…Is that what kept you?”

“Yeah, but coming home to all of this is worth it.”

Linda gave her husband an endearing smile, “Listen, I hate to nag again, but the dishwasher is still making that funny noise. After dinner, could you take a look at it?”

“You know, I would, but I’m in for a real early morning if I’m to get this report done for Ed.”

“I didn’t realize Ed could be such a tyrant.”

“Well, be glad you’ve never seen him at the office. When things are late, he gets all red in the face and the curse words start flying.  He really is a different person.”

“What kind of report has him so worked up?”

“I don’t want to bore you with work.”

“Oh go on….I would love to hear all about it,” Linda insisted, and then listened as Arthur explained his reporting duties with generous detail, step by step. “Wow, just one person is responsible for all of that?” She asked after enduring his twelve-minute presentation.

Arthur smiled proudly.

“Oh, before I forget, Ed called. The painters still haven’t finished, so you’re on for golf again tomorrow.”

Arthur’s smile weakened at the corners.

“And he found your five-iron in with his clubs,” she smiled.

“So the dishwasher you say?”

Welcome Back Jack

As Jack turned down his suburban street, making his way back to his humble abode—a small pale yellow tract-house in a quiet neighborhood full of other pallid tract-houses—a horn sounded, forcing him off of the road.  In his younger days, he wouldn’t have stood for such an insult; he would have chased after them, but now he didn’t waste time with such nonsense, he just wanted to get home.  He had been gone for too long.

Jack tiptoed up the back stairs and peered quietly through his living-room window.  There she was, Sadie—the one woman he could not live without.  She sat in her chair quietly watching television in her light blue nightgown.  She came into his life a little over four years ago and nothing had been the same since.  Before Sadie, Jack felt the world turning against him; at every corner and crossroads he came to, animosity and hostility ruled.  And just when the evils of the world were about to consume him entirely, he met Sadie.  She gave him a chance when nobody else would.  She saw something in him worth saving and showed Jack a different kind of life, one that taught him to trust and love again—one that he could be proud of now.

Though he loved her so, he knew his return home would not be a joyous one.  She wasn’t fond of his all-nighters, but Jack simply couldn’t help himself, he had always been a bit of a free spirit. But even so, he would always come back to her, always, because there was nobody else for him.  If she could only see herself though his eyes, she needn’t worry.  Maybe it was a good sign the porch light was left on—an even better one that she had waited up.

Sadie noticed Jack peering through the window.  She gave him a stern look, but he begged her to come to the door.  She got up and walked over, boards creaking beneath each step.  She didn’t say much as the door squeaked opened, and Jack’s gaze lowered as he crossed the threshold and walked over to his orange plastic bowl lying next to the fridge.  There was a small brown biscuit left on top of his kibble, and Jack’s tail wagged knowing Sadie loved him still.

Love Story

There once was a bright girl

who thought the whole wide world

revolved around a boy.

But she soon came to learn

that he was just a boy

too full of pride

so she changed her mind.

Then that same boy

soon noticed the bright girl.

She was the brightest of all

and illuminated his world.

Finding his light,

he lost his pride.

And thus begins the story of

a brightened little boy

and his delighted girl.

Love Story

Beyond Melancholy Island

Trespassing memories

clutter my thoughts

Horizon to Someday

beckons my soul


your wake has faded

beyond Melancholy Island

Still, I remain

without your promise

to return

Still, I wait

near yesterday’s edge

 Mom's Camera Oct-Nov 2010 245 Color

In Many Ways

Through a dog’s sigh

with a child’s smile

when a stranger says hello

as a friend says goodbye

a small rustling in the leaves

a beautiful flower behind glass

that moment the door is held open

basking in a warm glance

a shooting star overhead

prelude to a dream

the morning sun sneaking in

but I can stay in my bed

as the music plays

while standing in line

my favorite song coming on

by myself, but not alone

in many ways, He speaks to me

Playing With Monsters

You wanted to play the game

but you lost,

ignoring your angel

while you wore your cross.

The voices got in,

got in to your head,

to lead you wrong;

they weren’t your friends.

The signs,

the signs were there.

The signs,

the signs were clear.

The signs

….all around you….

And the monsters, they grinned

over your innocence.


A child you climbed,

naïve you fell.

You closed one eye

and surrendered yourself.

Deceived by power,

influenced by fear,

you couldn’t say, No

to your puppeteers.

The mirror, she lied

and took your soul,

turned it upside down

and wouldn’t let go.

You were a good little bee.

You did as they pleased.

You were a good little bee…

…and just another zombie.


Pulled by strings,

hollowed inside,

you’re not yourself,

you’ve lost your fight.

But it’s not too late

to change your mind,

and listen to your angel

one last time.

Because she never left.

Never once left.

She’s singing for you

to impress the dead.

Now open your eyes

and sever the strings,

claim your soul

and watch the grins fade.

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