A story.

We were better friends than we’d admit

Understood more than we let on

But less than we wished

Teasing, arguing, condemning

Neither ever backing down

New kids in class together

Fourth grade

You were the genius kid the girls nicknamed Fatman

Fifth grade

You knew how to make people laugh, although sometimes they didn’t and you laughed alone

Sixth grade

You didn’t cry at school anymore

Seventh grade

I didn’t like you because you teased and knew it all

Eighth grade

We discovered the power of letting ideas feed off each other

You gained reputation as the coolest student body president in the city

The girls liked you now because you were fit and had good hair

Ninth grade

You ran to catch up in the hallway and matched your stride to mine, silently

You'd grumble about your problems
And could talk your way into or out of anything

Then

After one last project

You never talked to me again

Not even on graduation day, when you sang for all of us

I looked you up on a whim

You were accepted to the best university in the country

And you have ugly hair now

Wrote this because of an idea Lisa gave me... one of a series. Remembering things forgotten for years... funny how unemotional one gets.

Chance of precipitation: 100%

 Have I ever told you
  The questions I would ask you
  If I were not afraid
 Listen, can you hear that music?
  Were I as forthright as it

 Have you ever wondered
  The question I would ask you
  Were you not so silent
  So many voices unrelenting
   I begin to lose track of the music

These days will change to tomorrow
  So they say
 And the dirges repeat and fade

When looking forward keeps you going
 What happens when you can't see?

Hear it now
 Rising falling we are
  Rising falling we fade


"What are you doing?"
"I'm transferring a poem... because it's rainy. And that's what you do on rainy days."

Wonder Wander Goose and Gander

We built our towers higher
As the clouds tumbled down around
The music
            it battered us
 Seeking that which we could not name

 The directions and maps of no one's making
   Or perhaps our own
 Forging a destination

 To save nowhere from being nothing

 Perhaps the air grows thinner

If we could but take off
  From the edge of uncertainty
Too cautious for wings
  We must reach it another way

  By our towers

Where shall we put the summit?

the number you have dialed phenomenon

I want to say Tell me

  Tell me it's not my head

 Tell me what you haven't said

Tell me why you won't 

          Speak

And then I fall asleep

   But even in my dreams

        You won't

I can't sleep

    My mind won't be still

You might know why

Don't ask me

     It tumbles like a machine

       Polishing stones with sand

  Over and over

 Until they become smooth and beautiful

    When will the words become beautiful?

  Over and over...