Infected sole

Infected

sole

brought on the wrath that is thrust upon me

tore the hart from your chest and walked a way

the one to tell you that I loved you just to get you where I

the one that humiliated you in front of others or in side your

turn your love away when you let it out to be excepted

I will not be the one to make you what I want

the man or men that came before,,,,,

I am me and there will only be one of me for all time.

but I am the one that has to deal with the infection that is blinding

you from my healing hands and hart. You fight me away from you like a

stinging wasp. I may not be able to close the wounds that others made, or

scare over the emotions that are left once they have left.

but I will help those that want help, help to clean out the open wound

and lacerations, left behind by all the ones that came before me. wether it

hurts or may even bleed, I can, I will, I wont fail someone that believes in

me to help them, I will never give up, or given if they need me,,,,,

but

they have to see through there own blindness

they have to work through their flawless inner defenses

they have to allow me to be there when they fall, so I can show them I’ll

they have to find it in them selves, to let me in

so I can show them, I am who I say I am, and not another charlatan with

fancy word, and charm, but a man that will never let the people that believe

in him down.







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Based on a work at university of montana western undergrad.
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Does a rose by any other name smell as

•

“There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the thorns.”

“Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have
roses” - Alphonse Karr

"A thorn defends the rose, harming only those who would steal the blossom" - Chinese
Proverb

"A life with love will have some thorns, but a life without love will have no roses."

"Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be
perfumed." - William Shakespeare

"Rose! Thou art the sweetest flower that ever drank the amber shower: Even the Gods, who walk
the sky, are amourous of thy scented sigh." - Thomas Moore

•

"More beautiful than a rose is the soul that beholds it"

“The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a
falcon, And the white rose is a dove” - John Boyle O’Reilly

“But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd; Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness” - William Shakepeare

“I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds 'round my neck” - Emma Goldman

•

“The rose is a rose, And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose”
- Robert Frost

“Their lips were four red roses on a stalk” - Shakespeare

“God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December” - J. M. Barrie

"The fragrance always stays in the hand that gives the rose" - Hada Bejar.

“Can anyone remember love? It's like trying to summon up the smell of roses in a cellar.
You might see a rose, but never the perfume.” - Arthur Miller

"The rose that all are praising Is not the rose for me." - Thomas Haynes Bayly

“My lady's presence makes the roses red, because to see her lips they blush for shame.”
- Henry Constable

“Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it”

Rose……… conjuring images of full tempshues blooms sprinkled with delicate fresh drops of
morning dew, bushels hung opposite of the world to end their days of beauty but to start their
journey of dwindling fragrance of the summer days past. As a name……… an unbridled beauty
a kind and charismatic personality with a smile that rivals the glory of the braking dawn. One
must be lucky to be named Rose.

Zachary Wilson







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sknaht

sknahT

how do we say

I don’t always say it the way I want

but

There’s something in and about you that I Appreciate, Admire, so strongly desire and can lust for
with an yielding respect, I can’t help but wonder how it could be different if it could be different,
if maybe at sometime you want it to be different as well.

Some times in life things come along to help you in a way you don’t usually understand

skaht

For this you came to me as a vision appearing of near perfection
A light that comes inexplicably during an unusual storm
You being who you are alone, mack and cause my self to question thing, and find no answers
because there existence alone can’t be answered by anyone

As one finds them selves standing in the dark wondering where the light has gon and why
Wondering if and when it will come back
Felling the could of its absence
And doubt it’s present there with you at all, its need to even existent
It comes, and this time it came with you
NOT as a Light House on rough and unforgiving seas,
NOT as a Small Flame in an windowless room,
NOT even as a Lighting Bolt during a storm.
But as a twinkle in the stares where there’s a brief part in this storm
For the timing is always brief
A storm that is seaming to be life as I know it
I never know how long your going to be there or right where you’ll be,
but your there and there’s a comfort that’s retained from it
As you come in and out of vew
That shimmer that you bring to this world reminds me to have hope and fath

And to always find my guiding STAR





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I have nightmares well Im awake

I have nightmares well I’m awake the memories that take me in trapping me in their horror. only I can’t
wake to a calm silent night. No you left me to this torture of your memories so I can’t sleep I lie awake
thinking about all the things you faked and the things I wish others had. Pleading for the truth from one
wishing where lies, lies being told as truth from another.

The wait that rides on my shoulders is more the some could bare of that I’m sure. I feel like the statue of
Atlas with the world of yesterday on my shoulders unable to put it down unable to move. Well trying to
pick up the future of tomorrow seemingly never to come. The wait is more unbearable the longer I hold
it, the longer I hold on the harder it is to let go.

Each day the same from which I had came from before, I think of you I forgave you but you betrayed me
I loved you despite your acts of unbelievable disseat, forgiving each act from the real to the imagined.
I will never know why it was me that you had to hurt so deeply but none the less I was the one to be
given this obstacle to overcome.

Lying awake I dream of an escape from this pain that’s bottled up from this world that I lived. Each night
I wish for the future to come and erase the pain to pole me in and tell me it’s ok. Each day I wish I could
go back to change the smallest of things to have loved you more to have given you more of me. I can
never get back the way you said to me the those words of hate pain love disgust sorrow all with a striate
face all acted out to perfection; with shame being your cochins unable to scream louder so you may
hear.

Thousands of things each day can trigger a memory of you that only leads to pain because you stopped
creating ones of pleaser and happiness. Despite what you though I did love you if only for being in your
life brought unbound happiness in mine. The months with you felt like years, the years without you fell
like decades of loneliness. You found life after me quickly, you found things that made you happy that
others could replace. I told you there was never any replacing you I wasn’t telling you that to get you to
feel as though your that important, you where that important.

Looking each day to find the thing that can num all the pain that your scares have left behind all I see
is your face. The face that did all of those unspeakable things to me and the face id given any thing
to have. If you had only not loved me I could hate you I could burn your memories but you loved me
tacking that love back leaving a hole in my heart that the cold breeze of night cuts right through only
reminding me of you. Empty is a word that helps one to understand the feeling that you left but it falls
short of the mark you left on my sole.

The only escape I’ve been granted is that of a gifted mind and the power of the word. Allowing me to
take the ink of the pain that runs through my veins, putting it on the page with a masterful stroke giving
it a darkened beauty, in ways that changes the words from my pain of an abandoned heart to that of
pages of eloquent script.







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Based on a work at university of montana western undergrad.
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So , jurk

So I may be a jerk I’m loud and obnoxious I say things that are taboo, I take things to the edge of
correctness, or I refrain from pure mention, I believe as only I can, I show my straights, I show
my talents, I walk with an uncommon confidence, I back down to know one man. Nor do I hold
anyone down: I bring others to the level of my understanding, not of my superiority: for I’m no
better than any other person. I bleed its just bled differently I scare and cry I fell the rage and
pain just as you, but only in my idiosyncratic ways of difference make me, me, not anyone but
me.

Is what I show you who I am or is what I show you my public presentation of what I’m supposed
to be what others have made me and the way I understand so that others my understand me. Is
this my identity or is this my tormented persona of my life.

I’ve tried being who I am and the third degree burns my never heal as they once where but
should I be afraid to where my scars as art or as sham is that I find as my true self to truly be
my self or am I two people. The question I “fall asleep to” is that all one person that can be
so dipolar to those that surround me. They say you are those you associate with that is always
leaving me rubbing my chin do I associate with anyone but is it that I associate with everyone to
lave me with is insignificant enigma. for no mater what chose is to be picked what ever answer
is to derived or solution reach its only one side or one point of view and is that point of view a
justification or a realization.







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Blind Love

Blind - 3. lacking perception, judgement, or reason.

love - 1. an intense feeling of deep affection. 2. a deep romantic or sexual attachment to
someone.

As the sane goes love is blind but I think the got that in the wrong order the definitions say these
are to separate things and once there put together they become something vary endearing to us
all. This is how I see it we are all blind; the definition says lacking perception becoming aware of
something through the senses, blind judgement the formation of a opinion after due consideration
based on the facts and personal interpretation.








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I don’t fucking know….

Good things happened but today still hurts, I started to forget today how much I loved her once, as I turn 24 I see just one more day where the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with truly doesn’t exist. I don’t know if I’m healing or if I’m dying it just hurts in ways I had nearly forgotten. Two or three or four maybe even more good things happened to me today and yet I sit here and only feel the loss of her. I never wish she had died but in times like this at least the pain would make sense if she had, all I want is to love someone and all I look for is that opportunity but I get in my own way almost every time. Maybe that’s why I was so in love with her maybe because with her I didn’t get in my own way. All because she said she loved me first. In that moment well we were fighting I was blindsided and I knew she just didn’t know it when we started talking that day. For in that moment she was afraid of losing me losing the man she loved. In that moment I was that man. I’m ready to love someone again maybe I am dying but I still look for a simple reason to live. Only looking for that person to love me again.






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Life on Caffeine

Today was a day that I haven’t had many of in my life mostly just because it’s not so much who I am, it still managed today to overwhelm me. I didn’t mind.

I smiled all day I felt a smooth high of elation for 6 hours today and nothing happen except a simple shift and maybe a lot of little dominos to make it happen. When life changes and yet nothing has changed other than a perception despite the fact the future is so unknown it’s crippling. Life is risk and reword I fear saying anything demeaning or demoralizing because what if I’m found out and have to own up to being human. I can’t believe I’m dancing around the subject maybe that just shows how strongly I desire it to be something real. I could use real and I could really use a reason again I can’t wait to have one again. I don’t mind who I am now but I liked what I was once; even more I want desperately to find him again. Now I’m not pleased having to admit I’m human and that sometimes when things don’t work that it hurts. I am struggling to jot down a line I could just delete if I wanted; my tempter is rising……. I think I want this!

There I wrought it

I want this thing whatever it is to be real I would write it in plain English but I’m scared it will revisit upon me in a way I might not be able to over whelm with my silver tongue. I fear being burned by my thoughts and reflections but mostly by my hope because it’s like tap dancing on glass every move can cut you being sharp is the name of the game. I like the title of this peace mostly because it only alludes to what it is that has me so tumbled, yet it is chic in its simplicity. Its meaning is ever changing even as I sit and write I can see new ways it fallows the lines of my reality. All I can say is today I smiled today I felt happy today was day one. I wander if even I truly know what it is that I’m talking about here I am sure of my thoughts but I am unsure of my fear. I’ll sleep on this one because I’m not afraid of the thing I was when I sat down to write this somehow in 416 words it changed.

There is a quote I want to put here at the end but I’ll have to come back and do it because I don’t have it with me but don’t worry it’s in Gaelic so it wouldn't matter to you anyway only to me.

“ ”








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really now i mean thanks here poeple

It means allot to me when anyone reads any of my work for any reason so feel kind of obligated to write something for me so I can completely enjoy your experience with my work. So come on now be a team player people let me know your thoughts…

thanks

i just wanted to say thanks to all those that read my writing feel free to leve your thought for me to read thanks and God bless

In deep thought

That’s the name of the last photograph I really have of you. I only truly have the one picture any more, I saved maybe one other buried in some box to be found decades from now. But this is the only one I can still see when I want. You were my fairy tale but now it’s time to be real I loved every one of those pictures and ever word we ever spoke, let’s face it you where never real and that has been dragging be down now for too long. I still look at that picture and every time I have to touch the screen; like somehow maybe this time you will become real that the woman I loved so deeply will actually be at my finger tips, as if there truly was magic just for loving something enough. “But there isn’t and you never are” so let’s face it every woman before did that same thing, lost faith in me then stopped loving what it was they loved about me tell they no longer loved me. I truly believed you where the last woman I was ever going to love because I gave you everything I had every part of me I pushed ever limit because I knew you were worth that and more. Yet you stopped loving me just same no different than the rest. You will never know how much I miss talking to you, how happy it made me to see any one of your 134 pictures imagining all the life we would gather in moments of our once vibrant lively youth. I could write a million words and never say how much I loved you. Really isn’t that the thing love is not fare but it is blind. I let me lose myself in that, in that fairy tale where you promised me it all was going to come true. You promised “though inside someplace even I knew your heart wasn’t in it” we would have it all so I lessoned to what I wanted to here. Yet for some reason I still look at that picture and long so badly for you to turn and look at me just once and smile, eyes wide as I see me in there reflection; Just one time. I look at it every time and lose myself in how beautiful you where to me, how much I loved you more every day I was with you.

Yet the truth is you never let me I fell in love with a computer screen not a woman.
I let you be everything I had ever wanted; I guess because I never lied to you I really thought you never did to me. You were to perfect all thought in my heart I still believe that you where exactly as you say you where I can’t rationally believe that anymore. How that hurts Gio is not worth me describing. I crave moving on because we are never going to start a family like you promised we are never going to get married I will never get to see you walking in a white dress down an aisle towards me, I will never get to shake your fathers hand, or hug my new mother, never getting to welcome a new brother and sister into my life like you said we would do. I tried once to be with you and if it had been meant to be than I just have to believe it would have been. It’s been three years now and I am truly trying to let go, I gained weight trying to quit the pain, I’ve lost so much of my hair from the stress, yet my broken heart is what I grieve the most, for I was a fool for believing you ever loved me like I had truly loved you. I was ready at one point to go anywhere in the world to be with you, do any single thing I had to do, all because I believed in use that much. So congratulations for tricking me I was deceived as no other man has ever been deceived. I am sorry for letting it all go that far, I should have know you where never going to do any of the things you said you were, I should have stopped any pain I had ever allowed you to experience because it was my ignorance that hurt you, along with my pride and my blind miss led faith that led us both so far astray. I hope one day you forgive me for that Gio.
Because I will always love something I will never get to know whether that something was truly you or only a well fabricated convincing lie but I am sorry, all the same.




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shimer of optimism

for the first time in too long i chose to write my thoughts and for the first time maybe in my life i chose to do so when i want to sleep and i feel as if i may fall right in without the stander showdown I've become so accustom to. i bet the first thing to pop in to your head was probably not this very thought but it could have been. what makes someone like that want to stay awake writing to an unknown audience and not imbibe in that so loved activity know as sleep. well if that was your exact thought i bet your lying because i wrought it and it wasn't even my thought, so stop lying. OK now that you and i are on the same page lets get down to the point.

I tend to write depressing melancholy poems or poetic articles maybe but to night i wanted to put pen to paper or in my world tips to keys. so let me tell you reader about a moment in my life i really liked, i looked in my heart and saw a woman i have never meet and i knew i could love her even though i don't really even know if she exists but for that moment i saw in my soul someone else that was possibly apart of me. she had shoulder length dark hair not black but not brown the light was low so i may never truly know. yet it was soft and tame that kind you just want to feel on the palm of your hand as you cradle her for swooning kiss. i saw her bat her eyes maybe not at me but no doubt she did that bashful flutter of i know someone sees me. it was brief but i saw those brown eyes almost flat in texture calming the kind of eyes that make bad news seem like it could have been worse their confidence supports your doubt by not flinching, they see into the fear worn on your face saying with those flat brown placid eyes bringing you back to straight. don't forget that turn of the corner of her mouth that little flinch of i hoped you would see me, she had the softest check i have ever seen bagging to be kissed like that of a baby that can’t stop smiling and giggling as affection is passed through adoring touch.

but i don’t know if you saw me or maybe just caught a sent on the wind that brought you back to when you where happy once in your life that memory playing out in a moment as i looked upon you seeing all i wanted to see or maybe it was me seeing through the crystal ball getting to watch as you had a glimpse at what the man you have longed for looked like in a brief moment of clarity then seeing me walk through the back ground of that day dream stepping in that very mans shoes seeing you unable to hide the brief moment of joy that detonated inside seeing that i truly am real.

well i will never know but there is a glint of something even if its only in my imagination.

ps

I'm talking to you.








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Gravedigger BY: Dave Matthews or Willie Nelson

It’s all to early how much I know you all though we have never been a hole peace through the eyes of our maker I still stand separate from you, what holds us apart I may never know. I know how much I long for your simple existence to finally infuse with mine as to become a whole. I sit felling when life offers me experiences that we should have shard, I can only be unaware of all the things that I can never be aware of for you do not exist so I cannot know your existence shaping the moments your presence will invariably offer.
Those that are found looking back are always the ones that fail to grasp the opportunities of there being, the true feel of the time and place they are granted being in the moment as only they can or could have been.
Those caught with their heads in the clouds never feel their feet on the ground letting all the opportunity life supplies float past for they know not how to plant themselves to a conviction that will consume them.

Yet I look forward everyday to that thing which with all my heart I know will consume me, that being your love giving the will to be with you every day of my life if you should be so willing. Who knows maybe I’ll find you when I look back or if I would just drift in to the clouds maybe that’s where our opportunity lays, is it my stubbornness with which is withholding my own happiness’s. Or maybe it’s you that has always been meant to find me despite how hard I will or have ever looked that event always left to be in your control. My search only a penance to be worthy you…….







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What is the cost?

What is the cost?

Or is the question how much would I pay? They both sound alike but when you want to know the value of a kiss….. Well there is only the price you can pay or the price you would have paid or sadly the price you will be forced to pay because of it.

For me that price was somewhere well over 30,170 words, and all the time it takes to put down somewhere around double that. So over half a hundred thousand words is what I paid in those many nights of endless key strokes, yet never one swish of a pen. Thirty thousand words all saying the same thing all trying to pay the penance for one of lives simple and pursues gifts that of a heartfelt kiss. There is no reverence more contenting than that of a passionate and loving kiss. I still dream of those lips and how they would touch the very muscle of my heart giving it the spark to never stop beating only if I could have found a way.

For the price I pay is failure to know those lips on my skin, each day I wonder if I could have done more to only know their kiss imparted from her lips. It’s the lack of knowing that which torments me so, I paid a high price more then lost efforts and passions, but that of regret for my actions; because they are what failed me not her. When one looks to place blame the image staring back is always the one that is due to bear the full weight of consequence. For sometimes your best is simply not good enough more was required then I could have brought forth. I pray she forgives me for my inadequacies to fulfill her.

To say to have loved and lost is better than to never have loved at all would be like putting a Band-Aid on cancer. It may make you feel better but the wounds will never heal. I may write a million words in honor of love, yet I will never have the kiss that 30,000 failed to inspire.








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Energy

In this day and age we conger images of hydrogen fuel or power bills out of our control. Yet we forget that its one of the most powerful and greatest gifts given by the natural world. That air our most needed addiction can cause so much fiction trying to move past its self that it lets off probably one of the most pure and awe inspiring feats of nature that of lighting. So brilliant that it will illuminate the darkest nights or the most severe or storms. But as all energy it is for the shortest of moments showing all its power literally in a flash for that is how energy is in our world. But we forget that we are made of energy and that energy flows on many different plains in our body’s minds and souls. We are but living batteries constantly needing recharged and at times we can work better then at others. Some of this natural force that propels us is outside of our selves truly emanating from use being feed off the surface of our flesh as it lives. Other is like the most beautiful timing known to us the little spark that keeps a heart beating for a life time never missing a stroke just ticking on and on without a hand to wined the gears of life. Yet this energy is more then we really can know for some is outside of our understanding. I was told that there was a depression in my energy that much like a pot hole in a road edges sharp and bottom firm and clear in its existence by the jolt you unexpectedly feel as you move over it. Well this pot hole is located over my heart this in no way surprised me. The next thing I heard was either there is a good reason for this suppression or there is something else blocking the flow that I can’t find. Being the simple man that I am I couldn’t start to explain the cause of this occurrence in words for they would only fail to encompass the full scope of how little I understand but how clearly I see all that causes me to have a cavern in the center of me. I live my life each day as one half of a whole I felt once that I found the other half of my world; when that piece left I wrapped barbed wire around my heart like it had been fired into a fence from a howitzer letting it wined its self so tight that it can’t fall of but will have to be pried off with delicate precision. I don’t even know honestly if I swallow or bury or any other form of not dealing with my feelings but I do know it takes as much as I have to hold it together each day. It’s like running from a train over a bridge leavening only the rail to guide you forward all well holding a pane of glass. Each little miss step brings the train closer each small flaw cracks the glass a little more. It’s only a matter of time, luck, will, or fate that can determine the end of that sprint know as youth. All I know is I have caged what it was to be me, in part due to fear in part to heal, in part to punish yet the reason irrelevant for it shows all the same in many aspects of my life. Only making the hole in my soul widen little by little as lives disappointments over shadow what few of lives true joys achieve.

I ask will anyone sacrifice their hands to the sharp barbs that bind me so tightly, or is that time past in my unknown fate?





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