Overwhelmed

The tears well in my mind
but defiantly refuse
to release themselves
irritating my eyes
screaming at them
to ache
burn in agony
mirroring the damage
in my heart

fearing that which can't be explained
or anticipated- -
the fading smile
on my son's face
the most difficult decision,
an unwanted letter
coming at wartime

closing my eyes
to hide from the shame
of acceptance
the sheet of night blanketing
my reality.

Freud in America

The frivolous meandering of the creative
Mind
Trapped within the four walls
Of corporate insanity.
The unimaginable has happened…

Money replaces commitment and passion
Drive and ambition conquer love
The unimpossible moment-
Alone and choices need to be made;
Minimalistic nightmare.

Encroaching on a not so distant horizon
Approaching the inevitable end
Of the simple life
Crushing dreams, but replacing them
With different wants

The angelic soul of a dreamer.
Longs for the constant beauty,
That nature embodies…
The clean air that only the country can provide.

The validation of knowing the possible
Road less traveled
Returning back to a more fulfilling time:

Where chivalry and honor
Were still held in high regard
Knights and maidens in love
And living their land.
Money- only a fluid commodity.

The French revolution
Blanketed in passion
Longing for better treatment
And lives being risked for freedom.
An eternity in solitude for a possibility.

The crushing stagnation
Of 21st century America
The dull hum of cash exchange
No honor or glory
Menial 9 to 5 frustration

The inner child screams for satisfaction
Dies for the opportunity to perform.
Why does the world settle as such?
No possible mobility
Dream—reminders from a desktop wallpaper

Never cease dreaming…
It’s the only truly individual thing there is .

-Starr Sackstein

A Lesson Before

He goes
Unwanting and angry
Grant breathes
His breathless life
Into the soul of a dying man
A man who hasn’t found himself yet
Grant doesn’t know how,
But he must try

Visiting the jail,
Unaware
Not knowing
That he nears
Not knowing that he knows

A teacher
His journey
His lot in life
NOT
To run
“like the nigger he was born to be”
He, Grant
Is better than that
He is supposed to make
A difference

Teacher,
Synonymous with helper
Saving souls
Rediscovering manhood
Through the eyes
Of the already dead

-Starr Sackstein

Awaiting the rest of the party of 5 at Bryant and Cooper

The solitary light
Shining its one eye
Upon my fingers
Shadows looming
Alone
With the vacant
Wooden seats
Old and middle-aged
Business –types
Carouse at the bar
Suits aplenty
No sign of the familiar

Their conversations
Seep superficial bullshit
Tumblers in hand
Floating limes
Amid the rocky glasses
Sipping
Blue fingers
Gently caress the edges
Of drinks

Watching the door
Only after hearing
The breath of outside
Squeak into the airlock
The cool air
Kissing my cheeks
Slowly dropping back
Outdoors
Until the portal once again
Opens

Lost –
So it appears
Although not only
Solitary writer
Others drift
Like wind toward
The lighted doorway
Each in waiting
For the rest of their party
Alighted and desiring relief
From the emptiness
Of no one

Pacing or sitting
Stools or warm leather chairs
Tricked
Suddenly jarred
By memory
Thinking of the last time
Awake 2 am
At the donut eatery
Within view
The thought dead
As is the person
Who lived within it
Other young lives
Uneasy skating
In purgatory

More suits
About 20 by now
Drowning in a sea
Of grays, browns, and navy blues
Discontent – rather irked
Everyone else is always tardy
Opposed to perpetually early
Beyond on time

-Starr Sackstein

“All I Really Want”

Listening to Joni Mitchell
As I often do
In times like these
Hollow times
Desperately seeking identification
Similarity in our miseries
I actually heard tonight
I found what I was looking for
“I am on a lonely road”
I couldn’t have said it better
Traveling and seeking
The absence of my identity

I always believe
That I find myself
When alone
Lose myself when together
I’m asking for love
From those who can’t give
It - -
The sorrow fills me
Endless buckets
With holes
Unable to plug them,
I fill everyone else’s
Hoping it will fill me.
It’s never going to work
Not that way
Not ever
Yet I journey
The same path
Endlessly
Seemingly hopelessly.
I’m weary
I’m losing my strength
I’m sad
I want so much
I can’t grasp.

The world of fears
Keeps me tantalized
And alone
Even when I’ve made my choice
Passionately seeking change
I can’t find my map
And I only know one route
Which gets me
From point A to point B
I have so much to give
And I deserve so much
But I struggle
I lose faith
The tears choke me
Force me to rationalize
What I know
Has always been
“Wrong”
OR just
Not the best

Alone and fighting
This diseased mind
Fighting –
Doing battle
Wanting to medicate
Myself with costumed lies
Pretty faces
Quick wits
Good conversation
Manipulation and an excuse
To believe
Feeling like this
Is all I am worthy of
Knowing that
I’m full of shit
I’m not strong
I’m feeling contaminated
And weak
And getting even more so

Romance-
A farce that I have created
To make my misery
That much greater
When it ends
What would I do?
What if happiness?
What if ease?
What then?
Am I done?
Do I graduate?
Probably not
I don’t ever
Want to forget
This – now-
The emptiness
This strife
This seemingly unending sadness

The blues
I’ve got them
And I’m a sucker
For sunshine
And roses
I’m real
And feeling truly fucked up.
My optimism wavers
And
I fear what happens
When that light begins to fade
And I can’t relight it.
Is that possible?
I hope not.

Choices
Examples
Many different names
The same face
I find you
We seek each other
How do I lose
The commitment
To you?
My disaster
Waiting to happen?
Why can I get
Everything else right?
Why is being right
So important?
When I know I’m not
Even close
Distance
Evasive glances
Not in my own skin
When touched
Wanting to go back
To simpler times
To make the one
Necessary change
To fix all these problems

Daddy –
I struggle
I want you to make it better
I want you to say
It’s gonna be alright
I feel like I’m dying
From the inside out
I feel like being destructive
Because sadly enough
It’s safer.

The rain comes.
It pours,
But my tears do not.
I want them to though.
I’m ready to wash
All this away.
I’m reaching my hand out
Please take it
I don’t know
Where else to turn.
I don’t want to give up.

Variation on the same theme

Migrant thoughts
wander aimlessly
through night minds
seeing clearly through
the dark of sleep
dulcid sounds of breath
inescapable clam
for others
juxtaposed with the restlessness
which craves my company

vanish tired eyes
awaken
torment
teeming disbelief
absent crescendo
wonder why?
how?
not where the map
promised to end
alone in a bed
with three.

August 3, 2008

Disconnected digressions
meander mindlessly
through the quiet night
disrupting sleep
challenging calm

sleep is lingering
yet my heart races
my thoughts migrant
alive
awakened by possibility

the world around me
folding under
gurgling bubbles
of possibility linger
marriage indigestion
poisoned by the venom
of monogamy

crazed wants
balance of hope
torn between
desire and obligation
alone to choose
everything to lose
everything to lose

home as defined
by such
titles and labels
that can never define
but do

the self long ago
discovered
uncovered and embraced
after hiding for so long
in the fear of judgement

whisked back away
solitary
confined to the passion
embraced only
in quiet meditation
unsatisfied
by choices
that were never mine to make

troubled now
by the will
of others
responsibility
questioning only
to whom my loyalty
must lay
outward
or justice
for what feels right
in my soul

irreconcilable damage
could be done
if the truther uttered
my deepest demands
unable to be fulfilled
by current situation

change or be changed
grow or morph
embrace
which is outside
closing eyes
breathing inward
seeking answers
running out
of excuses...