seems like it
used to crawl

now I lose
track
of the days

and memories
are like stories
someone once told

I’m not even
certain
I’ve not written

this poem
before

(D James)

silently mocking
my attempts
to scribble
something

of weight

the blank page
like a snow-covered
mountain

challenges my ability
to communicate
and whisper-laughs
at my thoughts of words

until I say
to the blank page
“ok, you write something”

then there is silence
and I can finally settle down
to begin the work of stringing words
together into something that makes sense

to someone
somewhere

(D. James)

never and always
right and wrong

bone and dust
blood and guts

intransigent and flexible
solid and liquid

everything
and
nothing

(D James)

a missing part
of me

left behind
like something
I forgot
to pack

a piece
of my soul
resembling lack

hold on to it
I promise I’ll
be back

(D. James)

and I can’t find
any that fit

or don’t sound
self-serving

what’s left
is silence

maddening
deafening
unbearable
silence

(D. James)

a hundred words
stale phrases
none of them
enough

talk all damn day
and I’d still
never get
to what it is
that pulls at me
makes me want to stay

should have tried
should have missed that flight
should be there with you now
should stop trying to make sense
of any of this

because all I want
is to be
where I’m not

all I want
is to be
where
I am
not

(D. James)

of all those words
in all those songs
like I do

someone fearless

who knows
the difference
between
pain and suffering

creating or courting
neither

but knowing
what it means
to feel deeply

to ache

to revel
in the glory
of being known
by another
like no other

to miss
the one you love

(D. James)

this is not me
this is not you
this isn’t even who we think
this is

this is some evil
this
this twist
this pain

this feeling
this ache for you

this is just a dream
this nightmare
this remembrance of you
this haunting

this stillness of still wanting
this with you

this ending that never ends because I don’t want
this to ever end never wanted
this to end always wondered why
this did end
this always ending
this

(D. James)

something
I don’t want
to see in me

avoiding
myself
by looking
everywhere
other than here

trying to get
out of my head
when I should
be in bed

another late
night

another wasted
morning

couldn’t I get
the same result
in another way

or another result
in the same way

it’s all the same
in the end

(D. James)

I think
this is what
I’ve always
wanted

to whisper
in an ear

that she’s
my one
and only one

but I don’t
realizing
that’s not me
that’s not her

it’s just an idea
in my head
from a song
Taupin wrote
about one of his
ex-wives

and what
does that
tell you

(D. James)