With Apologies to Everyone I've Ever Known

I hurt people, though I don’t mean to
My apologies somehow don’t ring true
I scare people off, including you
Wish there was something good I could do

Misunderstandings get amplified
Can’t ever fix them, though how hard I’ve tried
There’s no doubt here that I’m the bad guy
I accept that, but I want to know just why

I’ve always thought I had a good soul
Never saw the monster in the mirror
But if doing evil’s all I know
That makes my life’s direction clearer

I’ve only ever looked for love
I could not so deliberately
Bring someone I cared about to harm
Or so I thought til lately

Who will dare to drive the stake in
Putting me out of our misery?

The devil’s working in me through my mind
I feel his influence inside me now all the time
Still I resist, still I try to be kind
But he crushes and embarrasses me for even even trying

I push away the people I most care for
Misunderstandings precipitate wars
The ringing in my ears from their slamming doors
Why have I never learned all this before?

I’ve always thought I was so normal
Never a reason to think otherwise
Now I see just how aberrant
I understand how “I’m not like other guys”

How much more living must I do
Before this damned world is through with me?

I only hate myself so the world doesn’t have to
It’s not their worry, it’s mine
And they shouldn’t spare the time
My punishment’s been seen to

In the war between evil and good
I guess I know just where I weigh in
I found the devil quite a charmer
And poisoned my own  karma
God hates me, and he always wins

So I can only count the days
Til the devil calls me home
But this existence seems endless
Waiting for someone who’s sinless

To begin casting stones


Ryan Patrick, 1997

Bounce

wave the paddle
fan the air

smack the ball as hard as you can

it recoils out
to the extent of its tether

and then returns again

the band never breaks
as hard as you try

and the ball has no words to say nor tears to cry

slap it some more
at a wall, at a door

you’ll find it’s never worse for wear
the paddle may crack
and the band may stretch

but the ball, you’ll see, will always be there

so wind up your arm
and work on your serve

your open palm is mightier than my pen

I have no defense
and you know I’ll be back

and then you can hit me again

Ryan Patrick, 1995