Bad Friend

Bad Friend

Words and acknowledgement 
Only after I provided them first
When I needed you most
You never asked,
Is there anything I can do?
I guess I was blind and never knew
A person I considered to be so true could be
A bad friend

Chasing after a cunning delusion 
Years have gone by without
A whistle blown
The whistle is blowing now—
I am calling you out 
I think all these years I really had
A bad friend

When you left, you always left me
Feeling strange and guilty
As if I failed my call of duty
Loving me back never seemed easy
Now I finally see—
It was you
It was not me

Behind the ingenuous mask lies
A bad friend

A decision has to be made
Do I keep you or let you go,
My dud of an amigo?
I wonder if there are any words
You could possibly say
To make me not want to sever ties
And just walk away today

Leaving behind
A bad friend


Z

 

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Stillness in Nature

Once again, I have collaborated with my fabulous graphic designer friend in NYC (Liz Daggar). Part 3—and likely the final piece—of my nature collection has arrived. My goal has been to inspire people to get outside and take it all in. All three books are available by clicking the link below:

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/naturewanderer


A few pages from the book

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Reviews of the last book

  •     
    By Sarah West
    Nov 1, 2017
    Another beautiful work of art from Zac Gilbert! He has once again shared his love of nature with us through his lovely photographs and perfectly punctuates them with his written words.
  •     
    By Brianna Ross
    Oct 29, 2017
    These books are so inspiring! The pictures make you want to go outside and look at the world around you. The poems are perfectly paired with the creative pictures! Zac really knows how to turn something you normally wouldn’t notice into something amazing. I highly recommend these books if you are looking for a work of art! Each time I look at them I notice something new.
  •     
    By Cathy Norwood
    Oct 28, 2017

    This book is like the perfect cup of coffee, striking, comforting, and reminiscent of things I have felt, smelled, tasted before. The photos speak volumes on their own, some stunning and some haunting, but paired with poems that invite us right into Zac Gilbert’s heart and soul, the combination is intoxicating. He seems to capture beauty in details I might look right over and completely miss. To me, his photos are a quiet reminder to slow down and look around. I sat down to read/look at a few pages and I found myself soaking up each page to the end. These will be my coffee table books for the foreseeable future!

Hey for today

Hey for today

One day he ran
He ran very far away
Wondering if his family
Needed his stay

Fearless.
He should have been.

Soon, he looked back:
He heard a song
He was sitting on a stool
Holding a drink
He was singing along

He wondered why?!
He could not be there

I still see the back of you
Guiding and leading the pack
We biked miles to the beach 
We could say anything!
Any old thing—is the thing
To each other—to anybody

Anything but: Goodbye

Hopefully, we are all okay
Yesterday was quite the memory
Wishing so hard we could go back
Oh, but the pictures we have

The cement treadmill underneath us
Moments, never forgotten
Why did they turn dark and grey?

Why do the colors of life go away?

The only thing that matters for now
Is that we still say
Hey for today


Z

25

25

Felt so great
To be alive
Dancing on tables
Reckless, but totally fine
Dreams that were planted
Grew strong in bright light
Confidently standing—
I was 25
Survival was pretty
Flowed just like water
Every little thing
Was going to be alright

If I could go back
And speak to me at 25
34 me would say:
Breathe it all in, man
Today is the day
Shake it and take it 
As much as you can
You can do anything
You’re only 25!
Just like I wanted
To say to 19 me—

When I was 25


Z

Prayers for Mary

Prayers for Mary

5 out of 7 days
She was there
Sitting, wiggling about
Working in her chair
A total pro
Selling her web
Killing the numbers
A diner burger and coffee
Never neglected
On her lunch hour
I know nothing she said
Now, I have nothing
Only best wishes 
For Mary
She pops in my head
Here and there
Hearing the things 
She would say
The scratching of scratch-offs
Cigarette walks with the dogs
—Hers was called Trouble
Oh, I used to have fun
I know all about fun
So, she covered for me 

While I napped on a leather couch
Lucky winners we were to know her
Now, there is nothing?
I hear she is not all there
When she was always there
I do know one thing thing:
I have so many prayers
For Mary


Z

Night of Cynthia

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Birdhouse
Birdcage

Night of Cynthia

She carries pain
In a designer handbag
Minds are left bound in a trap
I hated the hatred I felt one night
Deceived by superficial beauty
Beauty of Cynthia

She cuts through guts
To her, we’re hers
She dines on
Our vulnerable meat
What a surprise
Under porcelain skin hides
A foul and gluttonous sin

Sin of Cynthia

In a pricey restaurant
Red wine dripped down

Seductive, blood red lips
With the wipe of a napkin
She stood up in black heels
She flew off and she grew

Smaller and smaller
There was no trace left

Left of Cynthia

The curse of the witch

Left my trembling hands with a wish:
To stab evil with my dinner knife 
But, I’m not like her
She’ll sleep tight—she is free

To wake up and hunt prey so naive
Check paid, I went home
Trying to forget the night
Night of Cynthia  


 

Z

By the Creek

By the Creek

Finished circling the drain
He released all his pain
To the ground he’d been seeking
To be horizontal
By the creek

The flowing of the water
Tickled his pointer finger
Thinking
I am not a salamander
It’s no wonder
I’m not squirming
Gonna listen to the sound—
I was here and laughing
Running, flying by
Just like time

A strike of lightning
In a darkened sky
Sudden falling of rain
He found no need for rushing
At the moment
Regardless of weather
Here was the best place
He could ever be

A beetle scurried up
His bare foot—makeshift bridge
Sought the imminent safety
Of the bottom of a rock

Quite a scene to be seen
There spread out
Upon the ground

Soaking wet, simply loving
The reflections on the stream
Head rested upon his shoulder
He lay there
By the creek


Z