That stopped me cold. I thought about the days when I filled notebooks with poems, short stories, essays, and more. And I realized it had been more than a decade since I “checked in” with myself.

I flipped through one of those notebooks a week ago while my girlfriend, the wonderful Jeannie, looked on. And she wondered why I didn’t try to take some of the gems within those spiral-bound pages and do something with them.

I didn’t have a good answer.

I’ve decided to dust off the better pieces in those old notebooks, and perhaps put together an e-Book of poetry and another of short stories. I may even attempt to see if I can find a publisher who will put them in print.

(Completing the first issue of the Victory Streak remains an active project on my docket, before anyone asks.)

My loyal blog readers will get to see my poems and short stories first in these threads. I hope you enjoy the following poem, entitled “We Should Have Known Better”:

“We Should Have Known Better”

In the bosom of fire
as it beckons against the starless darkness
you and I rush in where demons fear to tread

Bathed in hatred
underneath the heel of despair
We eulogize our love where they bury and number the dead

But it’s a passing thing, you see
like the shift from day to night
as swiftly as I lead us to sadness
I can make everything right

In the bosom of light
cast against a cloudless sky
you and I rush in where goodness fears to tread

Filled with devotion
under the heel of love
we resurrect our affection where they disturb the dead

But it’s a passing thing, you see
like a change of the season
I can place my love on a pedestal
and knock it down without reason

So the pendulum savagely swings,
chemicals boil in my head
synapses crackle with lightning
I smile and silently wish I were dead

I lay down at night and dream of a place where I cannot hurt us
but even in my dreams my palms
are stained with the blood of a thousand regrets