Bram and I would spend hours writing poems at Perkins after I had moved back home having graduated from college. That time in my life was odd. It was not what I expected. I spent the better part of a year mourning the death of a failed engaged relationship, and he walked me through it. He and I smoked many hours away at Perkins in Minot, when Perkins was open 24 hours and was the coolest post-bar time hangout we could find! We would order fries, side of brown gravy and a coke...we of course would piss off the wait staff because we ordered little and stayed forever. We didn't care! We wrote so many damn poems...I filled a book with Bram's presence and I titled it, "Violations Of Orange: The death of romanticism and the day after." Anyway, this is the first poem I have written in a while...actually it's more of a muse, a bewilderment, a prayer. I just want to honor him somehow. More later...

the torn veil is my face…
10.30.07

I cannot fall into the abyss of immeasurable pain,
for it is all too often I find myself there lately.
I wish I could get out and find myself unchained.
Your death into the dirt surrounded,
haunts my every breath and pulses each time.
I am trying to find the compass that you were…
I get drunk for fear of feeling too much I fear,
because I cannot face the reality that you’re gone.
You my friend, who taught me to be comfortable
in my own skin, is forever emblazoned
in my life patterns, my speech, my songs, my breath.
I cannot find any reason for your death
but know that I must believe in the memory
you entrusted to all you loved.
You were my friend…my best friend.
Your entire being and existence changed my direction…
You changed my movement, and I thank you,
because I know that you lived without regret,
without fear, without worry, and without time.
I will meet you again…
Our bodies will be changed, but our minds will continue
to hold the memories of innocence and hope.
I want to laugh with you again then…
I want to see all that you have seen…
I want to know the reason for your leaving…
I want to hug you again….
You changed my life in the here and present,
and to be honest, you have no idea do you?
My present time and future exists by way of
your casual invitation to follow you to the trees and water.
It was there I put my arm around you,
heard you snore through the night,
endured the constant down pouring,
and realized I had a friend for life.
I want to return to those moments…
I want to hug you, feel you lick my head.
You are my brother in life,
in time,
in memory,
in existence,
in love,
in heaven and hell,
and in death.
I miss the fuck out of you…
I was you and you were me…
Now you are gone;
The dirt swirling above your grave
to the four winds;
the wind blowing cold onto
your headstone;
the ground frozen by the dark
winter’s moment of isolation.
You are underground now…
If I dug you up,
you would not say a thing.
You would look sleepy,
as if I was seeing you as I had before,
spending the night at your house
too many damn times but by the
graciousness of the parents who gave you life.
Your eyes would not open,
but I remember their color.
Your mouth would not laugh,
But I remember it’s timbre.
Your face would not smile,
But I remember how wide it could be.
You would not be there…
You would be in the spaces of eternity…
To which I am not allowed to see for now.
We heard of an existence beyond this life once.
I know you see it now.
You have the answers to questions I have.
You are seeing the beauty of life
from your vantage point…why?
I know I miss you…
I know I cry to you…
I know I love you brother…
But why do you see clearly now?
Please watch…
Watch your family, your wife, your kids,
and your friends…
Because every now and then,
we will look up and ask for a moment
of reassurance that you miss us.
See you soon…
Or as soon as I meet God.