Archive for December 2011
Fire me
Which Direction?
No matter which way
you phrase it: I stumbled.
With only one foot in
to begin with.
White car, black stocking.
A million of those
and only one of you.
A city scan
finds no results.
A return to the scene.
My heart jumps
up and down.
Unparalleled.
Hopeful.
…No
For every million drops,
there is one catch.
And we clutch it tight,
just like the first time.
The leaves fall intermittently
as the wind brushes by.
And we are reminded
of the greater nature.
I’ve come here to tell you
of this place I found,
hidden behind the bookcase door,
but you don’t read much.
Why would I tell?
Why should you know?
The answer to the questions
you’ll never ask will simply be…
Mounting
Any moment can be
Taken.Thrown.Torn.
Frowning brows
must be lifted.
False reality written
on the other side
of the big hill.
Reality is dug deep on the other.
The city speeds
and oncoming lights
rarely get a second look
on the blacked out road.
Angered brake lights
resemble the dirt.
Where is everyone headed tonight,
so fast and careless?
Melody
Waste me,
so I can waste you,
and pretend that
the piano keys are never wrong.
I’ve been waiting here,
with a lack of moxie,
as the notes
drip out of my ears.
Stay here,
so I can stay too,
and sing you some words
to lift you up and over.
The wall is taller,
when you think about it,
but the film score
will soften the fall.
Play
This time
you can ask.
This time
you can say
Hello there.
How are you?
I’m doing good,
also.
There’s a missing link
between
the good and great.
Come to my side.
Slightly dire, I’m sure.
Tilt back, swallow it all.
Flicker the light switch
on and off.
And Quiet
This must be
the living description
of the detachment you’ve become used to
breathing.
And I only wish it stopped.
Or hadn’t started.
I only wish it was cut in half.
Or hadn’t started.
Macy
Nine years later.
An empty nation to return to.
Propaganda Christmas
holds hopes of the future.
Digital camouflage
only fools the fearful.
They’ve no concept of
time or reality.
God, this can’t be.
This is what He wanted?
Their prayers for peace
conflict the start of conflict.
Wouldn’t He want your child safe?
Teach your son to hold his tongue
on the playground,
but fire your gun on the war ground.
Here in this room
Wandering nights
and walls for balance beams.
Spinning tops
and flash light dreams.
Wasted moves for improvidence.
The impasse awaits.
A questioned materiality
is often forgiven by falling leaves.
Reds and yellows.
Orange and green
Grass blanketed by the
prettiest month you ever did see.
Vows of desires
hindered by a self-indulgent
exploit. All that you ever wanted.
Undeveloped days spent under the sheets.
Down the wishing well
Turtle’s pace while I plummet.
On to the bed I land
into slumber.
Good night.
For I am not who
I will be when I awake.
And you’ll still be the magazine
with one page.
Your substance is questionable.
Your reasoning is flawed.
I only get to feel good
to make you feel better.
But no longer shall I wait,
as this pause that I take
will linger,
so carry on.