(Over)thoughts | A glimpse into the chaos.

Heartier

Posted on December 13 2014 by J.W. Richmond

A Christmas Pumpkin

Halloween was incomplete this year.

We got busy,
life got in the way,
and Jeff and I
weren’t able to carve pumpkins
together.

But we learned
pumpkins are a lot heartier
than we knew,
because way back in October,
the week of Halloween,
I bought one,
only one
since we were limited on time –
so limited that it sat uncarved
until mid-December.

It didn’t rot,
so we thought we’d try
something different
with it,
because why not?

And Jeff got to use a drill,
which he loved!

So surprise
to you and us.
Jeff and I are able to say
Merry Christmas
with a freshly “carved” pumpkin!

Burn

Posted on December 6 2014 by J.W. Richmond

Fire Leaves

Some dreams
are so strong
so real
vivid
alive
that they burn
with possibility.

Then they break
with a loud crack
from the morning sunlight
or
life crashes down
with its cruel authority
of “no.”

Yet embers remain.

Should they be revived
only to be suffocated again?

Should they be drowned
harshly
yet quickly
to alleviate any future
false hope?

Or should they be
blown on
softly
to someday
maybe
become something
that is yet unknown
but worth the perseverance
against the day?

Unrecognizable

Posted on November 22 2014 by J.W. Richmond

Stage 2

I’m experimenting
playing
attempting
to create something
interesting
worthy of the time
it takes for me
to work through it all
to make the nothing
it was before
into a rendition
of the scene
inside my head.

The two
are so far apart
they are unrecognizable
as related
at all.

But I’m learning.

Brother

Posted on November 14 2014 by J.W. Richmond

River in a Field

You seemed
to make yourself
as scarce as you could
from your pesky little sister.

But you also
tended to show up
in the unlikeliest of times
when I really needed someone,
when you could
get through to me
when no one else could.

You drove me to the mall
to just spend time with me,
goof around in the toy store,
and – seriously, I still remember
that amazing smell –
you bought me
my first Cinnabon.

You took me up the hill
over the city
to watch fireworks
on the Fourth of July
from the back of your truck,
and I had never seen
anything like them.

You brought me
to what might be the best
underground music store on earth,
and took me
to an advanced screening
of a movie in the theater,
when I never even knew
those existed,
and we connected over
really great music together
on the ride back home.

When I was torn from
everyone I cared about
and
everything I knew,
you took me out to the river
in the fields
with a camera,
showed me how to use it
and introduced me to
a different perspective.

Even when you tried to tease me
or scare me to death –
because apparently
that’s what older brothers do –
you were the one who started teaching me
a simple logic behind
not being quite so fearful
about
every
little
or huge thing.

I know
I was incessantly annoying to you
and hard to be around.
I get that now.
But I always wanted
to be around you
because
I wanted to know you
and
I wanted to be you.

You never knew
how big you were
to me
or
how much I looked up
to you,
my big brother, who
somewhere along the line,
also became my friend.

For Joe

Everyday

Posted on November 8 2014 by J.W. Richmond

I once said
I’d run away
with you –
when I was young,
in love
and unknowing –
and I would have.

Being
with you
and in love
with you
for so many years,
learning you,
learning us,
I’m understanding
it’s not nearly as much
about the romance
of running away
with you
as the everyday promise
of staying
with you,
being
with you,
growing
with you,
growing into us.

Loving you
is much bigger
than running away.
It’s remaining
in the day-to-day
today and every day together,
and loving you
anyway
no matter what,
like the way
you love me.

Through every laugh
every difficulty
every challenge
and every distance
we put between us,
however close
or far away
in this complicated yet
simple dance,
I wrap my arms
around your neck
and hug you close
because you are my only.

You are
so much more
than I have ever deserved,
and I’m sure,
much more
than I ever will.

For My Jeff

The Cure – Just Like Heaven

Be

Posted on October 31 2014 by J.W. Richmond

To be
who
or what
you want
to be,
to not question
alltheminutedetails,
to live
in a dream
for the night
with no obligations
expectations
or
incorrect assumptions.

To return
to easy and
uncomplicated,
to not take everything
  so seriously
    and just enjoy
  the silliness
  for what it is
without making it into
something it isn’t.

To giggle
laugh
have fun
creating memories,
to indulge
the sugar high
with no regrets,
to slow down,
savor the short time
and just simply
be.

Glimpse

Posted on October 18 2014 by J.W. Richmond

The Lamppost

In the between
of cool but not cold
wet but not yet soaked,
the sound of the rain
is melodic
hypnotizing
rhythmic
calming
and
life-giving.

Droplets wisp lightly
in the wind
and
crash loudly
into their own puddles,
reflecting blurred streetlights
that are somehow brighter
than the real thing.

It’s in the storm
that I see a small glimpse
of God –
in the desperately needed
tiny drops
that fall,
the incomparable pattern of
sporadic lightning
across the entire sky,
the harsh,
reverberating shake
of the deep,
striking thunder.

Together, they paint
such a clear picture
of His abiding care
toward what is His
while also showing
His intense power
over everything
He created.

Fractured

Posted on October 11 2014 by J.W. Richmond

Strangled Fire

You pulled her
across boundaries
of health
ability
logic
humanity.

She pushed back
in trust
against the injustice,
attempting an in-between
between them,
a compromise
a something
good for all,
but it was all for nothing.
She was rebuffed
refused
disregarded
and
confused.

Now the only thing left
and right
in sight
in front of her
in view
is the corner
you pushed her into.

Is she supposed to submit
like a puppy
waiting for a beating
nursing the bleeding
as you rub her nose
in the disrespect?
Is she supposed to run
the other way,
drop everything to waste,
leaving both of you
at a disadvantage,
debilitated,
damaged?

With the lack
of actual options
bordering on exhaustion,
she shut up
shut off in thought.
She went dark –
dark as if in a trance,
grasping at the chance,
strategically dreaming
for resolution
for meaning
for any resemblance of a solution,
and dark as in
a place so dank and
d
r
i
p
p
i
n
g
with defeat,
so fractured
and
incomplete,
it was only worthy
of silence.

Words could only
ruin the moment
the sanctity
the brevity
the small bit of her
she could still see –
and at the worst,
leave her constrained,
as they ripped apart
everything around her
and through
what little of her
remained.

Out

Posted on September 27 2014 by J.W. Richmond

Without Dreams

With the sight
out of view,
all the wants I’d been
clinging to,
the needs I missed
the dreams I dropped –
I let them drift –
I decided
I must have them back,
but they’d already
f
a
l
l
e
n
from the neglected cliff.

Reaching farther further
higher
lower
I grasp
only at shadows
and they can’t find me either.

Without darkness
or
light,
black
or
white,
I wait in vain
for help
for fate,
lost forever
in the dulled
bored mind
they left behind.

‘If you can't be what you want
You learn to be the things you're not
If you can't get what you need
You learn to need the things
That stop you dreaming
All the things that stop you dreaming’
– “The Things That Stop You Dreaming,”
Passenger

Backward

Posted on September 20 2014 by J.W. Richmond

The Space Between

It’s difficult
to calculate growth
when growth
tends to show itself
as circles
swirls
scratches
smears
scars
or
wrinkles.

Of course there are many exceptions,
but (I think)
sometimes falling
slipping
skidding
backward
is growth
because at least you are moving
somewhere
rather than just remaining
where you were.

Sometimes
even backward movement
propels you around again
toward something –
something bigger
something better
something greater than yourself
something worth living for.