Sidexside

The love we chose

chose us the same

sometimes we hold umbrellas 

sometimes we dance in the rain.

I've tumbled into a place

where each step I take

sunrise washes my slate

a new opportunity

to fall from grace.

For what it's worth

it was only a matter of time

before timing got the last word.

We marched along through 

hell and back

side by side

scorched our ties

yet still bound by the light

the fire in your eyes.

Bishop

I hid my life

before you

with pictures as bookmarks

in novels

I knew you'd never read.

You would have found me there,

if only you were looking.

Make your move

stretch your pieces across the board

you didn't have much to prove

and neither did I.

In the end, 

there's only one choice left.

I didn't see it coming,

neither did you.

And neither of us knew

we would both lose.

Of all the love,

I've forfeited

and every heart I've lost,

I made the call

and raised the bar

never knowing at what cost.

 

Stormborn

Arson before subtlety

Lit the match

and haven't looked back.

Ashes and bones

fire and flames

to better punctuate

a loss that feels more

like freedom.

Sometimes letting go

looks like losing hope.

Sometimes surrender

looks like giving up, 

as long as it's the ghost

from which you can no longer

run away.

Breathe honesty into today.

Time served.

Lesson learned.

Just Fine

This life

I made for me

hard to tell now

if it's make believe.

When getting by

will only get you so far.

Fake it 'til you make it,

and I always end up at a bar.

The wrong side to wake up

I've got so much time

to make up for.

That's the only thing that's mine.

They say live free

don't worry, baby.

Things will happen eventually

When getting by

will only get you so far,

I'm only left with waiting 

and wasting my time. 

When apathy creeps up on me

and I can see

how hard it is to breathe some days

and others

I'm swimming gracefully.

Caught between standing on my own feet

and falling through the sky,

the balance on a blade

I've got so much life to wake up for. 

the only thing that belongs to me

It's the only thing that's mine.

And when they ask, I say

Just fine.

Swallowed by the possibility

an awakening

I can't deny.

they say you might fall

...and what if we fly?

The requited radiance between,

pulsing and heavy.

Undeniably enigmatic

a twin flame, it seems

excruciatingly magnetic.

This momentum

will crumble the csatles we've built.

Casualties of love and war

destruction by guilt,

of which, there is 

no armor.

In the end,

the moon will give way.

Cave to the light.

We will begin.

The sun will warm our backs,

reaching arms around my shoulders

to turn and face

this falling boulder.

The calamity of intimacy.

Alive

 There is a thin line

between living alive

and living a lie

i can't watch my life pass me by

lively living

has become a daydream

that is beyond me

my reality

is a nightmare

colored by settling

burying

resurfacing

my lonely lie

rests inside of me

of all the things

i've never said

a story to remain hidden

locked below

slowly killing me

all the things you don't know

and all the pieces of me

burning

slowly disintigrating

ashes on my tounge

i'm wise enough to realize

you will never be what i seek

and naive of me to think

when our eyes finally meet

he will not feel something

everything

i will steal his breath away

like yesterday

but you're lost

and i can only be found

between the lines

of living lively

and breathing blindly.

A Sliver of Silver

 tiny hands

throwing rocks

to watch the ripples dance

the ashes float

of a life before

with fallen leaves

and dreams 

the soft fold of pine needles

sink beneath my feet

uncharted territory

sigh of relief

a testament

of where i've been

a tender kiss

touch of a hand

rests quietly ont he brim

of my soul

open and free

you found me

silver lining

now turned to gold

quieting my mind

soaking it in

feeling the rush

in the current of this new wind.

Rewiring

 i look at where i've been

the trenches of a life from which i've risen.

i fear to make those same mistkaes

that over time

overturned my life.

i searched 

focused

overcame

and swam again

throughout the abyss

we are all wading in

there is an awakening

with no attempt to sedate

that warns me not to make the same mistakes.

brick by brick

the night eclipsed

intrinsic transition

perfectly aligned

lifted high

above the waves

my soul

saved

old patterns and walls 

rejected

sail away

i am open to and becoming

one with grace

floating high

above the ties that bind.

Skeletons of Light

 Carrying flags

and burying boxes

deep for none to see

seasons change

and weight is lifted

all of it brought this to me

timing is everything

did you think

we'd make it this far?

i've got so much time to make up for

i bare my scars

accept the lesson

soften the blow

of finding forgiveness

of that which i have yet to know

to remain 

unchanged

in spite of everything

is to expect flight

from a blistered wing

falling in love

and pulled to my past

simultaneously

wishing on stars

falling down in flight

the beauty is such

unrealized

there is no life there

just skeletons of light 

in thin air.

Embodiment of Lies

A toxic mind

All the illumination therein

Lacerate the seams

That stitch together

This daydream

Spill your blood
For the one that shuns

Speak secrecy

With fire on your tongue

Dislocate me

From fermented fascination

Excruciating captivation
With nowhere left to breathe
Suffocate me
In ties to never

The time I've wasted

The breath I’ve tasted in your arms

Don’t hold me

So I can sink slowly
Down your scythe
Hope and hell and embodiment of lies
Embalming the light
That lies within
That witness in you
a fight I cannot win.

Stories

you come to me
with your head in your hands
stand on my doorstep
with your voice
soft and endearing
asking for vision
losing sight
of what’s meant to be
and wrong and right
how do I know?
when you still can’t see you coming to me
after all
asking to catch as you fall
I will
keep my distance
withdrawn and patient
I can offer my smile
in exchange for yours
and the reasons
never enough to notice
me resting quietly on your decisions
you come to me
ignoring
all you need
so cry for her
I’ll teach you how.

In My Pocket

What I want

Is only mine until I get it

Never satisfied
Breaking habits
Breaking ground
Standing firm
With what I’ve found
On the frontline of my own life
Patterns illuminating
Escape from brain waves
And unseen forces calling my name
Melody swallows
Sounds clear today
As the rain falls
And all this noise
Dissipates with choices I’ve made
Static blurs the slain
Sounds clear today
On the frontline of my own life
what I’ve seen
and who I’ve been
all mirrored by decision
a picture in my pocket
I hold with those that lost it
along the way.

Won't Soon be Forgotten

You invited me in

The choice was made

a gory grin

hidden behind your viscid

saccharine words

the pieces are still littered

Try to sweep up

The lies you tell yourself

And what you tell

others

The splintering truth

Left shaking

Belief in your intention

I was granted such naiveté

Your buried malice

An axe designed to lay its prey

Comfortably and sweet

Before the decapitation

The choice was made

Premeditation

The truest sacrifice

To maintain this infectious charade

Like poison in my veins

An ominous beacon of revenge

Now shrouded in omniscience

Rings true in the end

Because you don’t know

The level of my own

deception

We have become one

Desinence has dried

at the corner of my lips

Nothing can change

The choice that was made.

So sleep well tonight

With a noose around your neck

Blanketed by your facade

I hold the last maniacal laugh

Close to my chest

In darkness

And a locket clenched between a closed fist.

Inexorable Recognition

Metronome antennae

Sways lazily back and forth

A foreboding silence

I watch

Intrigued

Searching for the meaning of this transcendent realization

Time is running low?

As is my trust

In these long shot signs with their subtle meanings of profound glory

“i’ve discovered the meaning of life!”

No

Its just the rhythm of time
that shifts this antennae through my thoughts

This empty mind

As blind
as it may seem now

There’s got to be a way out of this hopeless tunnel

Somehow

I fumble down the darkness

Arms outspread
searching for impossibility

Brail will help the blind

I’m left only to find
a scene too promising for me

Too good to be considered

Lost souls have driven their hearts

Pounded in chests

And pennies in wells

Twin fates intermingle and coincide

But only for this passing place in time

Can it ever be longer than a split second chance,

Or does it always have to end with a slow dance?

With notes of music displaying the triumph of trounce

Floating over the ashes

In another desolate burning room

That permeates the scent of time

We are so desperate

So vividly blind

But when the incessant tick of metronome vocals lay tranquil

I hope to play our music loud and dance with our trials.

Furthermore

My moon
Has many hollowed out trenches
evident
by the pull of disappointment
and the weight of such gravity
but
If i so ever were to call upon you, moon
To shine throughout each breaking dawn
I understand if you respond
With impossible
I will wait For the night
To reflect onto me
As your furrow takes to leveling off
This horizon
will disappear
and you and i
will rise and fall
For tomorrow
And the day after
But with each new moon
you see through the shadows
to me
mark my path
Light my way
And i will hold your heart
for all to see
i will hold your hand
As my own have taken to a red hue
And i never was much for
Wearing shoes
So i will not run
But will you walk with me?
Over coals of fire or water or sand
If we so ever slip down
I’m here for the wandering
The finding our way back
Because These traveling feet
Lead not the way out of
And away
But into
something deep
For we will always get lost
Until darkness descends
And my world is yours to illuminate
my moon shall not cast upon
An impossible embarking path
As each new dawn breaks
As long as we stay
this way
we’ll find our way back.

Sightless Society

Gossamer veil of living shrouds the blur that separates lies and sinning, suffocating, sitting. Departed, allow the exiled to march. Teach the blind the way to survive this dark. Peel open your eyes.

Generational Ecology and the Influence of Technology

The educational road begins with early learning as a foundation to pave the way for further progress of our society in its entirety. I believe somewhere along the way, this ideal has been tossed to the shoulder like a McFlurry container you can drive by down 1-5 near Sacramento. This ideal is now rotting and will soon dissolve into the rubble with which it was thrown. However, there is an element of hope. What today's generation needs is equatable to the proverbial court ordered inmate with one of those jabbers on the side of the freeway. But, you see, this type of community service won't be sticking it to trash. Rather, searching through the next generations litter to find the turnaround in regards to intellectual ambition. I hope to be one of these "inmates"... but my outfit will be way cuter. So, I have just recently started working toward my A.S. in Early Childhood Education. The following is a discussion topic my class and I were given on the Ecology of Childhood:

To look back and review the technological evolution that has developed over the past 50 years is truly overpowering. Today, technology is literally right around every corner and in the pocket of most the people we pass on the street. The innovations of the internet and cell phone and, more recently, the combination of both are just slivers of the technological changes that have occurred over the years.

The gap between generations is widening due primarily to these leaps in technological conformity. The number of those in contemporary society that do not have an X-Box or iPod are overwhelmingly slim, when looking back at the childhood of our grandparents... they had a radio. That's it. Our parents were lucky enough to score the generation where an 8-track player and an Atari game system meant you were living in the lap of luxury, speaking in terms of entertainment.

The accessibility to knowledge and education alone has affected the present generations viewpoint on the importance of school, career, and general aspiration. "Convenience breeds apathy." Apathy to what the aspirations of the previous generations consisted of: the golden rule, for starters, and the simplicity of wanting to learn in order to be qualified for that stable job to take care of a family. Presently, Google (and all the answers therein) is literally at the fingertips of anyone with a Droid phone. This being a reality, there is no concept of paying attention in school anymore. "What's the point?" screams today's generation.

The societal changes over the past generation of our grandparents and parents, I believe, run directly parallel to the technological revolution. As the slope of technology steepened on the proverbial generational graph as time marched forward, the periods in which the families, schools, and communities were affected are all different but very much the same.

Families are no longer connected the way they were before computerization managed our lives. For instance, the dinner table in generations past was the epicenter of the value of one’s family unit. Families would actually speak to each other as opposed to hitting “like” on their father’s latest facebook status. “I ‘like’ having dinner with my family.” Send. Not the same! Not so long ago, communities actually formed together for rallies or picketed for a common belief. But today, the majority of activists vote online with an electronic signature through a website designed to take a stand against or for whatever the commoner fights for these days. A right to low low prices and imported coffee beans? Who knows. As technology soared over the years, our society in general has involuntarily learned to take for granted just how easy it is to live in modern time.

In the days of even our parents, but emphasizing the age bracket of our grandparents, the values that characterize each generation has slowly depleted into what we're left with today. If we look back at what our grandparents belief system represented it may be closer to that of what our parents were instilled with but there is an unmistakable gap between what our parents were taught and what has been transferred into the next generation.

For instance, when my grandpa spoke out of turn to my great grandmother he got punished—and it wasn’t time out. Not that I agree with this form of disciplinary tactic, but it does stand to reason that this may be why my grandfather, and his peers, expects and gives respect as though it were innate. As we move forth down the timeline, my mother was raised by my grandfather and she rebelled as though it were going out of style. My grandfather couldn’t control her so she was emancipated at sixteen years old. Why didn’t he use the same method his Mom had used on him? Generational differences is what it all boils down to. Generational differences brought on by environmental influences that directly coincide with the authority of specific and modern collective norms. There has long since been the debate over nature vs. nurture and this just goes to show the latter takes this one.

This brings me to the present generation and the values that are represented by today’s shared outlook on what is to be expected of our youth. There is a dire lack of motivation towards education among the populace of adolescents. Technological advancement has bred the sense that the next generation is essentially teaching themselves—the blind are leading the blind. If this is, in fact, the case I wonder if teachers can team up with the AT&T corporation and develop an Ambition App to provide the youth of today’s modern teens with the sense to be excited about learning again. As farfetched and comical as this hypothetical option may be, nothing is as out of reach as it seems. If you don’t believe me, I bet there’s an article on Wikipedia.

One Single Day

Experimenting

Bending moralities line

Is it just a lie?

This reflection summoned and ignited

Within the depths of my being

I can’t believe what it is i’m seeing

Fleeting

Moments gone astray

I’ve longed for this day

Asteroids, stars

And galaxies implode

Across a dimpled sky

As the answer rains down

In a dimension where time is no more

Just look what it has found

My souls biggest secret

Recognition of a second self

Floats on the brim of consciousness

Daring to be let out

Though once it is set free

And the appearance turns to

Gray

A piece of me

Will stand no match

To the void it will catch

as blank stares review and walk away

Would my soul have been mistaken?

Or the universe has a game

To juggle time

Blindly

Lead our path between different trees

To plant new seeds

And the forest will live beneath

 a roaring sky

Or everything we’ve planted will die

 in an assortment

Of barren disappointment

Burnt down by the very passion

that shot up from its roots

This world

never stood a chance

with one single day

where nothing now can remain the same.

I am

I am, more often than not, the youngest person in a room at any given moment of my fruitful social life; but as misleading as this may sound, I’m comfortable knowing the person I am while waiting for the company I keep to realize this as well. Age is relative as is size, not at all in shape, rather the proportion of the brain in relation to the conversations we make. Whether it be between white walls and dimly lit garages or under our covers or while snaking through traffic; the words we choose and the opinions we form make us who we are, regardless of the year it says on my driver’s license. People—they always say the same thing.  I’ve come to expect the shock. Now this is not to say I’ve done my share of growing, just that I may have been born into the wrong generation, or quite possibly, I’ve simply neglected to shed the perception of a previous life.

Speaking of, I have finally decided what my afterlife will reflect in correspondence to my spirituality and, dare I say, faith. I had a dream I was met on the other side, with my True-self. Upon my arrival I encountered various parts of my spirit, as embodied by my physical identity, though each represented a single facet of my character. I recognized my jealousy, my anger, my doubt and conceit. I met my determination, my belief, my patience and altruism. And as I walked, the person I am in this life will have to reabsorb the parts of myself I admire as well as the pieces I do not yet have the strength to abandon. I will meet the best and worst my spirit has, in order to guide me into the further growth of who I am to become. But as my spirit matures throughout each new life I am given, eventually I will wake in that blissful place. Free.

Trust

The grace in her eyes

And the bells ‘round her feet

Ragged stare

A longing

deep breath

But the cost just wasn’t enough

to verify

or vilify

the step it would take

But her weight

shifted

And she followed her  through

An empty space

No color

No window

Just a sense

Things would change

The gypsy led the march

Up a staircase drenched in white

A right

Of passage

To drain the ashes

Gone to stone within her veins

As they stopped

At the top

Gypsy pushed the wall into a room
just as vacant and colorless.
Two footprints
marked with mud
stared from the blank boards at their feet
They faced the floor

Blind in the sweltering light

“This is the mark of a life

left behind.”

Taking

Pretty matter

With ribbons tied

Symmetrically

And all the things

Money can bring

And growing up

Is for princesses

Not kings

Though inside the man

There is a boy

Tied in pretty pink bows

Bound to a party

Where no one will show

Just send a check

Or make it two

I have my prize

It’s in my smile

And it didn’t cost a thing

But brushing my teeth

And that’s enough for me

these shoes provide the map

to mediocrity

as it’s called

but the middle of the road

is better than the shoulder

as it’s cold

on nights like these

maybe the bow will put off some heat

until its sold

for a heap of solid gold

to pave the street

there is no detour

for you, my friend

and a dead end will run circles into a pen

and cage your tired soul

until the wandering stops

and you're alone

i will jump the fence

let the beach
and grass
climb upon my bare feet
and toes

and sand will mark the time

it took for you to realize

the difference in our roads

echo

Unspoken things take flight

From under this wing-

Foresight

and a menacing wave of dreams

peel through the film of my lashes

through the smoke i see the ashes

 

dawn is cracking

With an echo to bleed the deaf blind

A withering glimpse

At a different descent
The inevitable passage of time

A rift of light

Falls through this space

We lie

while we lie

With heaviness upon our form

Tangled in naked warmth

Vivid in the muted stillness of morning

Illumination scatters upon loose lids of these eyes

Opened to define

the limit in this light

a smile painted on your

patient

sleeping

face

(Awaiting awake)

this flutter twists to trepidation

forget what i know

dig deeper for what i hope

to find

 

 

this fathom i’ve sought out

i’m still looking for

 

i find myself restless under pillows

i step to the floor
and this faint of fog is burning off

quietly

i stumble over your words

overturned in search 
those vaguely obscure

simple silent sounds

draw nearer to me

an unspoken perception

blanketed by hope and weary

 

from a peripheral place

i see a door

swing heavy to my left

 

ignition through curiosity

i stand once more

where i stood before

a timid walk

through the threshold of this door

brings wicked

familiarity

clarity ... 

we walk

alone

lucidity and me

i never was much for titles

Of all the times we’ve spent between

The lines of wrong and the lines of grief

Splinters of hope

Like gum under my seat

Wading in Waiting

I find myself lifeless

and tethered to a thin web

by stale wrists .
This twine
a fragile network

of an intricate descent.

 I look down to the waters below

the depth  that will swallow me whole

... inevitably.

I wade in discord

within a mass of air

so thick with

unease

from all these things

left unsaid.

My fingers have grown weary

upon the thought of slipping down.

Impatient and defeated

in the dreary days of waiting

I fight to take hold of what once was a rope.

With so many facets of this collapse to consider, 

they are only reflected by the crashing tides

I wade above. 

I feel the tension loosening

within my grasp

as I inch closer to the

intensity

of ache

that strains towards me.

As long as I’ve spent wading and waiting,

I feel I have no choice but to let go.

My only solidity

rests in knowing each stretch I fall,

I will always find myself.  

It will be wet.

It will freeze me to my core.

 And these bones will thaw,
 just as surely as it was I to drop.

Under

And the places before

You sailed

Solitary

Though you were not alone

ever

I can feel the shift  

That defines this path of tributaries

through the stream

that leads me

to your sea 

I contemplate

Past

Present

providence

And hope

time passing by again

As a course

That must be run

As the sun drops slowly

to the horizon

And i realize how deep i have sunken

The grace under waves

And the pain

Stacked high

Rocks to raise me above

The stones that have been thrown

And as a river

They gather in pools

Shallowing conviction

Softening slowly spinning  to sand

And pushing through the hourglass

to define

This passage

And brook the precedent

that isn’t mine

what is

but a blink

not enough to sink

the ship i jumped

where this current will take me

where will it leave me?

beyond  the torrent of

reticence

Reveal the knot

Grounded in sand of the past

weathered with tension

still tethered

through so many waves ago

that bind your ship

from dipping

over the sinking sun

Drag the current to the water's edge

landlocked

Cave the sand in dots

mark a path

with footprints

i cannot follow

or match

as the tide sweeps clean

and as the match ignites to a flame

of indiscretion

i will

make a stand

poise and cuff against the flood

i will

crumble

already thrown ashore

I’ve found my place

i quietly descend

under the face of the water

i sit below

as the drift takes me home.

Dear Fathers

             Recently, I have encountered the misfortune of reading Wade F. Horn’s article, “Promoting Marriage as a Means for Promoting Fatherhood.” The piece in particular describes exactly what the title suggests: marriage is the most important means for keeping fathers involved in their child’s life. Though the idea seems practical enough, upon further consideration, I found myself running over pot-holes along the road Horn paves with persuasion to the idea that marriage is the proverbial glue keeping the family unit intact. A detour presented itself in the direction of what seems a far more important (and obvious) matter we should be directing our attention towards in regards to promoting fatherhood: What is a Father?

            The real problem facing men with children is that some men cannot even answer this question correctly, let alone, portray a moral image for their children to follow.

So, is a father a card on holidays? Is a father a babysitter that lets kids stay up late? Is a father a vacation from discipline and homework? Where have all the answers gone?

            In the past, the answer to fatherless homes rested in their checkbook; fathers were assigned as cash machines rather than role models. Then if the fathers do not have the means to pay such “support” their licenses are revoked and wages are garnished which, aside from breeding resentment, only sets the father back further from even providing himself as such cash machine in that without transportation it becomes increasingly difficult to get to work to make the money to provide. Child support is not the answer. Fatherhood does not have a price tag.     

            I believe we each can recognize the lack of monetary value attached to fathers, but most fail to see the real problem facing abandoned children: fatherhood abandonment. In the text, Horn’s answer is to promote marriage outreach programs for troubled couples and certain similar preventative counseling to ensure divorce never emerge on the horizon. This idea is erroneous. If any preventative measures should be taken it should be within the correct territory of the issue, that is, preventing the abandonment of fatherhood to ensure the abandonment of children never emerge on the horizon.

            It is very simple here, folks. It makes more sense to promote fatherhood as a means for promoting fatherhood. Instill fatherly values in our boys so they grow up knowing what a father represents to his children, regardless if the mother is wearing a ring on her left hand or not. Socially, if the common person happened to see a little boy playing with a baby doll he or she might react to such behavior as bizarre, when in reality, these mannerisms should be responded with encouragement and be positively enforced as we do with girls. Instead, we train our boys to work, to be the money maker, and to lay  the proverbial hammer down in the cliché that Father’s must rule their household with an iron fist in order to gain respect. This is the extent in which we teach our boys to behave in regards to family. This is a flaw in the way our society portrays what a father should be. The only answer to, not only fatherless homes but more importantly fatherless children, is to teach our boys and our men the importance of bonding and nurturing.

            Nevertheless, a time machine has yet to be invented so we are stuck with the current crisis at hand. Currently, there are some men with children out there that, no matter what the circumstance (married, unmarried, non-residential, black, white, rich or poor), simply do not bond with their child. They do not find the importance in building such a vital connection since over the years fathers have been used as merely a financial backbone and nothing more. In the text, Horn describes a strategy for alleviating the financial expectation from fathers by advocating enhanced visitation as the mechanism for improving the well-being of children. This is a splendid idea, however it rules out a possibility that I find so piercing it simply cannot be ignored—the increase in fatherless homes is due to the fact that some men simply do not want to be a father; they do not have what it takes be a parent. Fatherhood aside, parenting in general is hard, but what is not so hard is giving up. It is easy for some fathers to decide not to be a “real” father and to brush their children aside as they would stained boxers. So the idea of increasing visitation among these men that do not want to be  a part of their child’s life would clearly be horrific. Research on disruptions in early childhood attachment figures suggest children are worse off having known and been rejected by the father than if a relationship with the father were never established.

            This brings up the matter of cohabitation—the issue of men living in a home with children that are not genetically connected to the man. The text states cohabitation involving biologically unrelated children substantially increases the risk of physical and sexual child abuse. So, cohabitation is going to make a normal well-minded man into a child molester or sadistic child abuser? I doubt this means to provide such an accusation, but it does perpetuate the stereotype of “the evil stepfather.” Unsurprisingly, this only worsens fatherlessness in that it seems the men that actually have a grasp of the substance behind the title “Father” get clumped in like cat litter with the statistics of pedophiles. Horn masquerades a ridiculous attack on good men that I believe deserve a lot more credit than the article offers. Stepfathers have the ability to put forth a healthy male presence in a child’s life that the child otherwise would not have. The text fails to reveal the positive statistics on healthy blended families and opts for smearing good men that are raising and accepting children that are not biologically linked to them, though still very much their own.

            There seems to be a subtle competition between non-resident fathers versus in-home father’s (a category in which stepfathers should be included in, as well) in regards to authoritative parenting—that is, listening to the child’s problems, giving them advice, providing explanations for rules, helping with their homework, engaging in mutual projects, and disciplining them. Authoritative parenting is shown to improve psychological health in comparison to those children who were not offered such parenting; however, this type of parenting has been socially pegged as the mothers job. This puts some men in the position to step away from the most important part of fatherhood, the teaching aspect, and allows them to escape parental responsibility. Being that this role is a woman’s niche on a societal as opposed to family specific role, the circumstances of non-resident or live-in fathers is just as irrelevant to fatherhood as is marriage. A man is the father he is regardless if he is living with the child or not. Negligence has nothing to do with the geographic location of a father to his child.

            This theory drops a nuke into the lazy boy recliner of all the men out there that feel justified with their absence because their failed marriage is now the scapegoat for their guilt; however, this absolutely proves my point in that we should be focusing on teaching fatherhood, as opposed to marriage. So, sorry Wade F. Horn (if that is his real name) promoting marriage as a means for promoting fatherhood is as logical as promoting war for means of declaring peace.

          The truth is, one cannot attach a definition to what a father should be. Within this certain family role, there are too many components to consider which make all the grey areas some people fail to take into account, impossible to concur.  If we as a society can promote nurturing of education, positive behavior, health, and compassion, I believe the bond between father and child will evolve into a structure of boundaries and safety that children crave. Fathers should provide, not only as a financial backbone but a backbone of support and reliance in order to shape their children into  kindhearted, gracious people with a good soul.

“A man's worth is measured by how he parents his children. What he gives them, what he keeps away from them, the lessons he teaches and the lessons he allows them to learn on their own.”



Definitions

Smoke spins circles around my head
As blistering as the air I ingest
My vision grows blurry with thought
I breathe in the night
My ears ring with ticking
Time
I need to write
This color blends
I bend to make light
Of each new dawn
Nearing closer and closer to the edge
And further she goes
Down the line
Drawn to define
Ones character or ones ulterior
Motivation is lacking
This time
Blends too
But I will not
Into you
As I am more than what
you've seen
Inside of me

oceana

How amazing time is.
How fast and for granted we take it.
We ride through like a wave,
sinking beneath the surface
sometimes.
Unable to swim, or cope, or speak.
And sometimes we float.
Atop the cold glass-like window,
looking down upon our trials
pass by,
relieving gasp of freely breathing
underneath the wave that sweeps us eventually to the shore
of our demise.

Miles Away

Pavement slips quietly
Rolls through underfoot
    These wheels seem tired
And doldrums live up to its name
It's       all       the        same
Through a spark
I see
Something calling
To set me free
This heaviness i hold
Between thumb and forefinger
that’s all she wrote
A daydream clings to me
Seems light as a feather...
Beside my smile
I drive this mile
Waiting for a collision
Clarity tonight
Seems I’ve driven over a muse
somewhere along the way
I will pay my dues
One way or another     In my rearview
     I point out a direction
A path I’ve been down too long
And I feel wrong
But I feel
This air seeps through a crack somewhere
Deep breath          I sigh
Taste the hours of darkness
In its glory
I drive happily
Backwards [slightly]
My mind restless
Entangled in impossibility
Will you ever find me?
On your own concrete
I feel like myself again
 In moments I recall
I feel like I’ve driven straight for a wall
Stalled engines wait
for a green light to release the night
into my life just one more time
I will breathe you in
Over before it had a chance to begin…