Hold On To

I know you are far away

but I’m not doing well you know

there’s a sadness when I try to let go

there is always a subtle justification

for every manifestation of “us”

I create.

I relate better to history.

Even when you were pissed at me

I loved deeply.

Your eyes would seep into me as home

but now

that was a long...long time ago.

time flows

life grows

and we haven’t enough sorrow

to hold on to everything.

Every scene

that ever brought us down

but you

I hold on to

like questions I can’t respond to.

you share my spirit

And I fear it has enlightened over time

to the point where it’s no longer mine

or even something I understand.

To be man around you

was not something I thought I could do

but then I did.

I place a bid on your sentimentality.

I just couldn’t pay my dues.

now there’s no you.

sure you still love me

what choice do you have?

Our hearts are a match.

now we’re older

colder to the idea of change

I wish you could re-arrange

your heart

and start longing again.

I wish you would open

because it’s cold

and I want to come in.

Division

Somehow in our division, we multiplied the idea that we should be together. Some kind of forever type shit, has hit us in the back of the head. Suddenly the relationship is not dead. I can’t help but tread lightly on this new found calm; because when we speak it’s usually not Psalms coming out of mouths. Half the time I don’t know what it’s about but I know I wouldn’t want kids to hear it.

It’s a queer set of circumstances that brought us to this apartment. This small compartment at the top of the stairs... where we keep our wares and our inner most thoughts from the outside world. Where we balance the life and death of love, just a breath above whether or I did the God Damned dishes. I wish your wishes had something to do with me and who you wanted me to be. I wish they tapped into my personality...instead of just the fact that I have hands.

What I do understand is harmony. Which is hard to feel when the place is dirty or apparently when you are a woman over thirty. I know that’s unkind but I can’t wrap my mind around why you still want me. Almost everything you launch at me calls me pathetic...and yet it doesn’t remove your hands from ass. It doesn’t allow me to pass without a quick kiss to your lips and a subtle harassment of my sensibilities.

This is fucked up to the third degree and yet my heart doesn’t want to be free. It keeps telling my head to shut the hell up and just let it be. There’s a war without and a war within me. I wish I could just throw up my fingers and mean peace. I wish your madness would just cease. I wish you'd grab me by my neck and ravish me. I wish you’d throw me to the floor and show me what these hands are really for. I wish you’d lock the door so neither of us could flee. Until the sun comes up and the birds start singing from the surrounding trees. Shit. See. My heart doesn’t want to be free.

You Wonder Where I Went

You wonder where I went
after time spent
and days gone by.
How in the hell
could I fly away
and not say
a single farewell?

Well…

It started in a classroom
in the nineties.

Behind me
were the crazy times
of smoke filled basements
and licking magic papers.
The times when I would savor
nothing
I would just consume.
I was doomed
by my desires
and I would take them higher
and higher.
I was lost in myself
and the cost
was just hell.
So I fled.

First it was a camp
where I was supposed to work the kitchen.
I kept itchin’
to be a counselor
but that’s not what I was hired for.
So through conflict
and insecurities
they fired me.
Again I failed to accomplish
anything.
Again I failed to make
a better me.
It left me in retreat.

These failures are mutations.
They grow in weird ways.
They steal days of thought
and self-esteem.
They gleam
even shine
on the stories you leave behind
and I could feel
my mind melting
in this sweltering idiocy.

The next stop was my father’s.
The man that didn’t bother
was my only hope.
The scope of my life
could no longer be fathomed.
But I did have him
as an option.
It felt like adoption.
No longer in his home as visitor.
I could no longer stand
on my podium as the inquisitor.
I had to bow my head
and ask for assistance.

At least he’s consistent.
He’s not a mean man.
He may not understand the world
and how diversity
just swirls and sings
to bring life to this thing
we call earth.
Andat the time
there was anger.
This relative stranger
was responsible for my birth.
I mean it hurt.
I was such a failure.

I didn’t spend
much of my life there
I was working third shift
or sleeping.
Just steeping in a tea
of self-pity and shame.
It sucks when there’s no one to blame
when there is no sane way
to explain it.

Fortunately for me
my father was no fool.
He packed up my shit
for school
and sent me back.
The drugs were not
completely in my past
but the last 2 years milder.
The wilder stuff
just didn’t have a spark
in my psyche.
So I thought maybe
I could do
school
again.
Maybe this time
I’ll win over
my mutant gene
that likes to wean
the good out any given opportunity.
The thought shot
through me
that I may just succeed,
so I was on my way
home again.

But even there
I was reliant
on a friend with a basement
and a cot in the corner.
22 years old
and still a border
in a house
I had never been to.
Starting to think
I was never meant to
understand.

The varied personalities
in this house,
just doused my clarity
in the situation.
It hastened my need
to find
me.

But then I found you.
I was late for school
And there
was but one chair open.

The only words spoken
were smart ass jabsat the teacher.
The speaker could not hear
but laughter brought
a tear to your eye.
You must have been thinking
Who the hell is this guy?
Why doesn’t he want to learn?
Truth is
to earn a degree
didn’t really occur to me.
It did seem like a possible outcome.
I had actually started to believe I was dumb.
But you
who laughed at my jokes
and still wrote a page full
of valuable notes.
You
who spoke to me after.

We progressed
into something real.
Even with less than ideal
circumstances
we took our chances
and ran together.
But darling
forever?
That’s too much of a plan.
It stands for stability.
It riddled me
with doubt
then I felt
like I couldn’t get out.

My life to this point
had been
a disjointed series of blunders
a seven wonders of
“how I did I make it through that”
To suddenly have a direction?
Didn’t feel like protection.
It felt like a cage
on a stage
in front of an audience.
I had an out of body sense
that I had to disappear.
And that left you here.
Alone.

I want you to know
I’m sorry.

I want you to know
I’m sorry.

Alone in My Apartment

Alone in my apartment

I am so diluted from alcohol and cleaning products
that I bet I could pass by a blood hound
and only give it a wistful thought of human existence.

But everything is clean.
I mean really clean.
Clean like the thoughts of a 5 year old
Clean like tools in hospital packages
There is no bacteria
There is not even bacteria?

Alone in my apartment.

The music brays
from the room you used to sleep in.
I keep thinking I hear your voice
Trying to talk over the rock n’ roll wall.
Every glance over lends itself to the contrary.

My shoulders feel weighted.

I heard about true sadness
in the scattered few books that I read.
The sadness that sometimes was spelled with a capital “S”.
The kind of sadness that caused men to chew on gun barrels
or women to throw themselves
and their kids, off a bridge
The kind of sadness that makes fresh air
feel like smoke.

Smoke.

I have already smoked more cigarettes
than I have fingers to hold them.
I only woke up three hours ago.

Oh God…maybe I didn’t!
Maybe I am just stewing in the sour soup
of a very bad dream.
Maybe my mind is giving me the what-if’s
So when the fateful day comes
I won’t feel like I am drowning in booze and formula 409.

Maybe.

Now I live my life by maybe.
In turn I miss my life
It's crazy.
I got to have goals
I got to believe they will happen.
Otherwise...

I DON'T GOT TO DO ANYTHING!

You keep telling me to sing a happier song
But I have lost my sheet music
I have lost the ability to craft my muscles around the wind
I lost...in a game...I didn't want to play.
The game was appropriately titled

Alone in my apartment.

Orchestrations

So I drove up to the lake for some serenity. With the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears, the children laughing in the distance, and my raging thoughts, it was hardly serene.

I can't seem to gain your attentions. Your life...complicated...seems to be more than I can bear.

And bare is how I see you. Bare is how I need you. I don't mean naked. I means somethings are sacred. What I mean is open. I keep hoping for your sound.

I remember our time together. Your laugh would resonate my state. It would fill my nation with the elation that I felt. Your voice was my choice of accents to the colors I paint my world. And you weren't so much a girl to me, as you were a way my world could be.

Hmm. And the songs. If there's music I can use it in some nostalgic fashion. The tones will make homes in my memory cells. They fill the wells of absence, again, with resonance.

I like to dance in our past conversations. I make revelations out of what was said. And now there's no bed to lie in. And I buy in to this madness because of your distance. I hold on to this insistence that you will be mine.

But time is my enemy. I won't be a better me if I hold on to these songs. These sounds that bring me down. My love for you can't be faded or satiated. But I still live in these orchestrations.

If you want to hear me read:

http://www.unity.fm/program/UWakeUp and then scroll down through the archives to the Episode: Tony Plocido. It's an hour long program.

Paying the Cost

I'm 35.
I'm falling behind.
I'm losing my mind,
blind to hopeful thoughts.

Why didn't I stop
believing I was right
essentially calling you an idiot.

Who am I kidding it
didn't matter what I said.
What led was what I didn't.

I remain livid in our schism;
love and beauty was not spoke.
The joke was the support I said I gave,
however, behavior did not display
care.

Jeez, you must have thought
I was never really there.
I just sent my body in
to speak my sin
and you were just suppose to take it.

You didn't break it
lady
not even close.
You were just a host to this madness
and sadness could be the only reasonable response.

So I stand here
at the counter
of "Lonely Assholes Who Never Listened".
"Incorporated".
Paying the cost of my ego.