uncertainty

i want to know why the world tends to disorder,
when all we seek is a foundation with no cracks.

i want to know what direction my head would spin
if i were from australia.

i want to know if there's heaven or hell,
so i can take a break from this moral parade i wage.

i want to know the meaning of life,
so i can rip that page out of the dictionary.

i want to know what's wrong with me,
so i can try to find what's right with me.

i want to know what death feels like,
so i can pick out his face at the corner market.

i want to know why a thousand years can pass
without me really knowing.

sorry, thoreau

If I lived my dreams,
I'd pilot a schooner to Zanzibar;
Cruising down the river of Chance,
Only to fall off the side of the Earth.

If I lived my dreams,
I'd stand before a crowd of millions,
Postulating on the fate of man,
Only to lose my belt midway.

If I lived my dreams,
Life would be an adventure, and
I'd die a thousand times
Before I find the resolution.

On second thought,
I'll have my eggs with a
Cold side of reality.

epiphany

That day is one that I’ll never forget,
The sweetest memories created there.
The moon smiled wide with no evinced regret,
And starlight intertwined with golden hair.

You asked me how it felt to love someone;
A rush of feelings caused my mind to freeze.
The fireflies flashed brighter than the sun;
The wind spoke softly through the darkened trees.

I rose to leave, and looked into your eyes
And then, a sign came down from up above.
I found the truth within a sea of lies:
Three months, five days, I knew that it was love.

This chance was on that I could not have missed;
The world sped ‘round its axis as we kissed.

rachel

I've never met you,
But when it rained
On the chalk-covered sidewalk,
I read your mind;
Beautiful, unique,
Always creating.

Today was your birthday;
I walked to the corner store
And bought a red balloon,
Knowing if I set it free
It would find its way to you.

Leaves turn,
And I know it's your time.
Warm cider,
Cool Autumn breeze,
You linger on the
Whispers of the wind.

the quilt

At the heart of each man
Is a thread, and
At the core of each thread
Is a sin.

When these ends come together,
They form the quilt of our existence.
The darkness comes together,
And it grows.

maybe

Maybe the feeling of living is like
A flame, nipping at the toes of those
Who know no better.

Maybe the feeling of laughter is like
A cool drink meeting parched lips, in
A reunion long-overdue.

Maybe the feeling of love is like
A dream in freshly-cut grass, imagination
Basking in the summer sun.

Maybe the feeling of dying is like
A water molecule vaporizing, leaving
This life to start anew.

I wish I knew.

just shut up and run

One day during my sophomore year, I learned a very valuable lesson about life. It came at a stage where my newly-acquired “sophomore swagger” was on full display, and I can imagine I was quite the burden to all around me. We had just left the school to go on a run, and I, always on a quest for useless knowledge, asked the typical question: “Where are we going?” Now, if present-day Tom were to be pestered by fifteen year-old Tom, I’m sure my response would be along the lines of “shut up and run”. However, Jeff Sousa, my captain at the time, responded, “It’s not about the final destination, but about the journey”. Of course, I didn’t fully appreciate these words at the time; after all, I knew we’d stop running eventually.

Standing here now, three years after that fateful day, and four years after I first laced up my sneakers to run for Dighton-Rehoboth, I finally realize the true meaning of that statement. Often times, we get caught up in looking toward what good, and bad the future may bring, and miss out on the present. I’ll be the first to admit t hat I’ve had many races where each step had me counting down the meters until I could collapse on the ground on the infield, knowing that my job for the day was done (well, at least on those days where Mr. Pease wasn’t feeling too sadistic; there’s nothing quite like the two mile-mile double). However, standing here now, there are no more meters no run, no more laps to be miscounted at Voc, and no more handoffs left for me to pray I don’t drop the baton.

What I can say is that this has been an incredible ride. I think I speak for all of us when I say that I never imagined myself at this point, getting food first at the banquet, being recognized last by the coaches, and taking one last look at this school that’s been our home for the last four years. Thank you parents, coaches, and friends, for making these four years the best four years of my life. And always remember: if you ever find yourself wondering where you’re going, or how you’re getting there, just shut up and run. Thank you.

constellations

Lonely stargazer,
Where is your lover?
Your wandering mind
Deserves a better partner.
As I watch you from afar,
Your desperate glances
Make me linger, and
My heart breaks ten times over.
Our meeting place is the sky,
But our hearts do not have wings.
When we embrace,
I'm dreaming out loud,
Composing a symphony of which
You are the melody.
In this elemental world, my dear,
I'm water, you're lightning, and
Our love is quite conductive.

dear you

Is it wise to say I love you?
Is it safe to say I miss you?
There's this void all around me,
I wish you'd see that
You and I are better off as 'we'.

a reflection in st. patrick's garden

Once a year, I take a stroll to the graves
To reaffirm my place in humanity.
I always stop before the same plot,
My ambition's final resting place.

As I fall to my knees,
My face brushes a solitary daffodil;
Rejecting the stars,
And numbering the days until you return to me.

The feeling lingers;
The corolla is a pillow:
Always cool, and unwavering in its
Protective state.

As I fall into sleep,
I'm in your arms again:
An imperfect reflection in your eyes,
Destined to be a faulty anchor to your life.

And then the petals are
Razor blades,
Cutting, tearing, peeling
At the flesh, and what was once whole is
Nevermore.

But then I see it's
Just a flower;
The flora to my fauna,
Blowing along in the wind.

palpitations

The pace quickens,
My heart stops.
I close my eyes, and
My soul drops.

when guns go off

I've always found interest in reading newspaper summaries of track meets. Millions of articles are written about so and so winning the mile, or D-R clinching another title. Then there's the postseason recap, where we all ready about working hard, and overcoming adversity. But not once do they talk about the feeling associated with track. No combination of words could describe the sensation of having a gun go off near your head in the middle of New Bedford (and live). No amount of ink on a page can give an outsider the feeling of reaching your physical limits, and pushing past them. Ladies and gentlemen, track is more than a sport; it's an experience.

These past four years have really shaped me as an individual. Track has solidified the idea of sportsmanship in my everyday actions, and taught me to push through whatever boundaries I have envisioned for myself. Track has shown me that the collective effot of a wholly dedicated group triumphs over the effort of a few self-interested individuals (such as the Seekonk Warriors). It has taught me that every personal best, whether it be mine, or an opponent's, is a victory for all of mankind. I hope you pardon the cliché when I say that track has helped define the real...me.

I'd like to pause for a second to address the juniors. Now, I realize that this may be the furthest thing from your minds right now, but every step you take, whether it be out these doors tonight or down to the track for practice, brings you closer to the end. We're very lucky here to have the dedication of individuals like Mr. Rubin, Mr. Fyfe, Mr. Espinosa, and Mr. Antani, as their heart and soul translates to opportunity on our part. So, juniors, cherish every moment; savor every last lap you run on that track, as each marks one less moment you have left until you're standing where I am.

I'd like to leave you all tonight with a story: John Stephen Akhwari, a Tanzanian marathon runner in the 1968 Olympics, fell and hurt his knee in the early stages of the race. Rather than quit, he kept running, and finished the race. When asked why he did not quit, he responded, "My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start a race, they sent me 5,000 miles to finish one". I know I speak for all of us seniors in saying that I will miss winter track, but I know we're going out with a bang in spring. Thank you.

when confusion reigns,

it pours.

phobia

There is something that chills me to the bone
Like nothing else.
More harrowing than rape,
More violating to the emotions than rape,
And more disturbing than mass genocide.

The fact is, the worst sight
In this world is your face
The first time after you've said
You don't love me.

façade

Looks can be deceiving.
Blondes don't have more fun,
Mr. Confident hates himself,
And Richie Rich can't buy soul.

They say blue eyes break
The most hearts,
But from what I've seen,
They're the ones most brokenhearted.

a plea

My condition boggles even the
Keenest mind:
The Human Condition.

The state of having held,
And lost.

Of having spilled ink
On an unworthy page, and
Having spilled love
On a hard heart.

As I lay here,
With my morale still
Unmoving on the carpet,
I wonder why my heart
Refuses to burst.

bridge to nowhere

I was never worth his pasture,
I hope you see that now.
This catatonic ticking of
My life's clock has me
Up a wall,
My lack of ambition
Defeats me.
I would kill for some arrhythmia,
And die to quiet my thoughts.

We all jump off a bridge sometime,
It's just a question of when.

the night

I lay awake sometimes
And listen to the night.
The sound of promises being broken,
Dreams being lost,
And widows being made.

If I still my failing breath,
I begin to hear the static.
It tears away at my skull,
And rips my mind to pieces,
But I'm powerless to stop it.

I'm down to my last Ambien,
And there's a long night ahead of me.

one in a million

Tens of thousands of thoughts
Cross my mind each day:
What to do, what to say,
What to eat, what to wear,
Where my life's been, where it's going,
And the only thought that makes me
Truly stop and think is you.

alphabet soup

All of us are letters
In this too-short tale of our lives.
Some of us are S's, letting their
Popularity define their existence.
Others are A's, paving the
Way for a storyline of their own.
As for me, I'm the letter Q,
And my only happy ending
Lies with U.

lifeless shards

Turn of a card, roll of a die,
Dreams to dust in seconds.
The streets are paved with broken hopes,
And hearts beyong repair.
Spare change brings the sweet taste of salvation
To those who are so lucky.
A sinister shroud descends upon
These desolate masses.

Everybody's gotta die sometime,
And each man prays to God that he is next.