When Did I Lose It?

Busy is not what I want to be,
who signed me up for this?
A spiral of stress with no quiet and calm
Goodbye to my free time,
It blows me a kiss.

Strangled and trapped by the things,
the stuff, the mess,
It feels too late to throw it all away
is it too late?
I was warned about this.

We're told that we hold all the control
to shape and mold our lives
to create and design the way we want to be
When did I lose it?
I feel as though all control slipped away
And with it, my sense of me.

-kbf

Other Places

My mind lives in other places
Though I call Idaho my home, now
My heart is here
Well, most of it
He keeps it safe and keeps me smiling.
The other smaller portion
is resting with the waves
in the cool and blue pacific
so very far away.
That is my other home.
My mind can be two places
or even three at once
I'm swimming with the dolphins,
hiking in the Andes,
and swinging on the jungle vines
Deep in the amazon,
Deep in my thoughts,
Deep enough to almost disappear
but still be home.
Wanderlust
Consumes me
And they say I'm like my father
The Gypsy
I don't doubt that it's true
New places seem so full
of magic and adventure,
of hope and of excitement,
of finding out more truth.
And so I keep on saying
this is my home, for now
"For now's" the only life I know
And the only thing constant is change
I love my life
I like to keep moving
There's no such thing as stuck
Our minds can do anything
And they can take us anywhere
WE
WANT TO GO.

-kbf

When You Know, You Know

When you know, you know...

That's what they all told me,
for years,
for decades, I daresay,
for centuries it seemed
And what did they mean??
I hated it.
Those words meant nothing.
Just a shadow
in the future,
down the line,
further up the road...
However you want to look at it.

When you know, you know.

I thought I knew once.
And then I knew another time.
But I didn't know what I didn't know.

And then HE came along.
And everything was different.
"I've never felt this way before," he told me.
And that's when I knew.
Because it was different.
Because there was love,
and it was simple,
and it was sweet,
and it was beautiful.
Beautiful like the mountains up above Hurricane Creek,
him kneeling in the snow,
and no doubts in my mind,
because I knew.
Beautiful like sun-kissed ocean days,
and fresh and rainy afternoons,
and smiles, and laughing till we cry.
And every night when he comes home, and walks in the door,
I know.
And it turns out they were right.
Because
When you know...
You know.

-kb...f

Know So Well

You who I now know so well,
both a little broken,
now never so complete,
I love you in a way that's new and true,
and like a wave upon the shore
you somehow swept me off my feet,

Your hand around my finger
and we're turning,
slowly spinning,
dancing down the dim and darkened railroad tracks

You are my storybook Christmas time,
Every star is falling in the sky,
falling for you,
if love was blind,
I'd want to live in darkness all my life

but you always look so bright,
even smiling in the morning light,
the snow is falling but I stay so warm inside.

And you who I now know so well,
I'll see you in my dreams,
I'll love you every day,
I feel I've loved you all my life.

-kb

Again

It happened again tonight,
And I was the one who started it,
My lips were where it all began.
Embrace the night,
but I'm living for the morning,
When the sun will shine,
bright and obnoxious,
blinding my tired eyes
and illuminating all my flaws.
We're not there yet.
We're still in the dark of the late night hours,
Once again, stuck in a cycle that's going nowhere.
I'm enjoying my time,
Avoiding an inevitable end,
but yet again,
Subconsciously smiling,
because I have an escape route.
Do I want it to be so?
Have I doomed myself with self-fulfilling prophecies?
Will it always be a struggle
and a bruised and broken road,
Will that light at the end of the tunnel
always exceed my grasp?
I beg again, answer these questions.
I've dared myself to change,
tried hard enough, at least I thought,
but here I am again.
And I've never been much of a morning person.
So I'll hide my midnight thoughts
inside an ink-less pen,
scribbling out words that make me feel
like I've expressed myself,
but knowing deep down
that not much has been said.

-kb

Midday

I am small

The portions of me that aren't completely there

Are the memories that I hold onto 

But it's just misty figments 

That make me small,

The moon is often invited to share time with the midday sun

Because sun sometimes realizes that having someone share your favorite things with you

Makes for the best middays

Loneliness isn't an option 

But sun and moon are so big, every human can share their company whenever they want

And that's when I feel the most small

Just a face in the crowd 

In a sea of swarming bodies, their mass indexes only showing numbers by the millions, billions 

And we are small

Ants busily working on an anthill 

With sun and moon watching, rotating with us

Enjoying our wispy memories right above us

Sometimes being the center of our attention

Because though small in size, our emotions triple the sizes of all universes

All within our small little chests

Can I get an amen

bw

empty words, crossed fingers

desperate to avoid decisions,
he'll promise anything
with fingers crossed behind his back
and with a smile on his face,
he knows her world is in his hands
and there's only so much he can fake.
only so much he can swallow,
gulping down his lies,
and hiding insecurities
behind a scarlet curtain of a quickly fading facade,
that smile
has too many pearly whites,
let's just be real.
real enough to know the truth
and real enough to say it.
real enough to know our thoughts
and face uncertain futures.
conscientious of our fears of commitment,
but brave enough to try.
she's careful now,
tiptoeing lightly,
her heart no longer on her sleeve,
it's hidden now,
but hopefully not forever.
and there they stand, the two of them,
holding hands, back to back,
empty words, and fingers crossed,
two ends of a broken phone line,
he's indescribably charming,
but she's the one who's smiling now,
because she is
decidedly done.

-kb

twenty-seven garbage bins

I saw you on the corner there, your coat was old and gray,
I thought to stop and say hello, but I went on my way,
Passed twenty-seven garbage bins before I realized,
I knew your face, it hit me, with a shock and a surprise,
I'd seen you once, so long ago, back when your hair was brown,
and you had stopped and said hello, and wiped away a frown,
With one balloon and one short song, and with your tambourine,
My son said you were the best street performer that he had ever seen.
He was six, and I was quick and silent in my pace,
and you bent down and talked to him and looked him in the face,
He needed that, he needed me, but you were there instead,
The lesson that you taught that day still lingers in my head,
And yet I walked on past you, and didn't stop to think,
My company in debt, and my marriage on the brink,
Preoccupied with my own life, I didn't even see,
That life had been unfair to you, and somewhat fair to me,
And so I stopped right in my tracks, and then I turned around,
Passed twenty-seven garbage bins, but you were nowhere to be found.
So every time I pass that spot, I wonder if you're real,
or if you are an angel, reminding me to feel,
I thank you, man, whoever you are, and wherever you may be,
And I try every day to be the man you'd have me be.

-kb

doubt.

I hadn't been here in quite some time, where it had been so long I had forgotten what to say
I sat and listened to the skepticism of those foreign feelings
Questioning every ounce of my self worth
"Happiness is a warm gun" I heard again, and I finally realized the complexity of those words
Because I am always expecting it, which isn't how it should be
Putting pen to paper again feels too good, so a hurting chest shouldn't be the only reason I return to my writings
But I only remember the dazed look on everyone's faces as I explained the goodness of it
Almost as if they knew that tomorrow he'd be gone
"Happiness is a warm gun" holds every bit of a new meaning for me now
So I throw my hands up in defeat
I admire the beautiful ones


-bw

Chances

I'm through with taking chances.
Did you hear it??
That's what the world told me yesterday.
It was like a Norman Rockwell painting
of a polka dot and yellow happy couple
got ripped to shreds right before my eyes.
It was like I watched the Beatles die.

Where is it, America?
Where's that silent, subtle strength we've always had?
Has it gone to Hell with all the new age thinking,
twisting, turning good to bad?
The Statue of Liberty wore an all-black gown today
and I knelt down and wept.
She blinked, and in an instant,
everything crumbled down,
and suddenly we were all too tired, all too fragile,
too dang worried, too damn scared,
of a ring on a hand, of a name
on a paper, of a promise leaving our lips.

Let's just hide out, America, forget what we do best.
Stay scared and hide inside our empty houses
with everything we "have" that still means nothing
and nothing is all we will ever become if
we continue in this mess.

So stand up, Someone.
Don't give up just yet, there's plenty,
I promise, of that.
For fear of failure can not stop us from living,
when living is all we have,
When moving forward and taking chances has become
not only a matter of living,
but a matter of life,
and death.


-kb