In Your Eyes
Now gone are those Autumn days,
All your words and all your ways.
All the love that was in your eyes
Fades like time as November dies.
In my mind, that song plays on,
But now the inspiration’s gone.
Your voice sings softly of regret,
Blurred by alcohol and cigarettes.
Emotions breathe from time to time,
Reminding me that I’ve been blind,
All those months and all those weeks,
Hiding in that time I seek
That’s full of warmth, a rising tide,
Crashing in a sea of lies.
On that street, that wind still blows,
Singing to the streetlight glow.
I’m sick with all the reasons made
To forget that every season fades
As those few months of memory
Reverberate in poetry,
As freely flowing lines of Fall,
Spoken in an empty hall,
With all my anecdotes of fear
Softly falling on deaf ears.
All the love that was in your eyes
Fades with time as passion dies.
Democracy…. postmortem
With each fascist idea ignored by the apathetic masses
Every fascist act becomes more and more tolerated, more accepted
Every link in the chain of propaganda strengthened, every lie legitimized
With each corporate-media spin of truth believed
Every child indoctrinated, lashed to the pseudo-righteous’ rapture-dream
Every cog in the government machinery lubricated, every gear oiled
With each step towards the fascist’s ideal scenario
Every freedom becomes debased, every right demeaned
Every hope is dimmed, every dream derailed
With each day we become more and more controlled
Every thought a supplanted subconscious saga
Every viewpoint is skewed toward the fascist’s notions
“THE HOLY LAND”
Does this place a story tell, a land broken and blooded on the road to hell..for thousands have died in faithfull loss, the curse of religion their only cross…and more will die in wars ebb and flow..such bitter hatred can only grow..but surley in gods grace we all must trust, to ever even count the cost…and in ourselves all truth must lie..without intervention from up high,,so all heed well and learn for all..the price we pay condems our form……..
A NOTE TO A FRIEND
Hello old friend, to you i write, this page of hope and long held thoughts..
As you know, my life has changed, through long roads and winding ways.
Yet still you remain my oldest friend, for tetherd are we, for better or worse..
you brought me hope in my darkest days, a glimpse of hills and shining meadows..
Freedom thoughts, the glass pool of clarity.. and a shoulder to lean by..
The staff of life are these,and deep have i drank from our friendship.
For we have been blessed with the tie that binds.
For all of these things, i thank you, my oldest friend..
“WHY TRY”
why try, or even bother.. whats the point.. the deals been done.
your claims are false, the dyes been cast.. last man standing.. hold the flag.
no point to prove, no point to make..wasted words.. my own blind faith..
misplaced ideals, misguided lies, a slice of fate.. no ring of truth,
a burning passion, so sadly spent, to ease the wounds of those so dear..
forget your claims that rang so true, for they are gone..like the innocents of childhood they are no more..
Several Muses Converging
If I die
Today
Would you be there
To catch my soul
Before it
Gets away
Would you keep it
In the dark
For me
The sun is rising
And you know
How much
I hate
The light
If I live
Today
I won’t make
Any promises
I can’t keep
But I’ll be there
To hold
Your soul
Until the sun
Comes up
If the sun
Never shines
Today
Will the darkness
Consume us?
Will our souls
Fly away?
Reflections of a Monday Morning
I turn into musings
Drawing away the animated
With my VCR
It’s awake
And it wants to show me
But there’s so many wholes
And I just can’t
Here you hear
What it’s like in that vacuum
Where things seem to be
All over again
I stopped my clock at 4
Knowing it was thyme
Focusing on blurs and
Developing my flaws
Wondering what would happen
If my body were to become
A hit Broadway musical,
“Long live the new flesh!”
Another Poem
It’s like being
Alone
All over again
Trapped
In a mind
Full of toxic thoughts
And little hope
No answers here
Just questions
And guilt
Over what you have done
It’s like being
Home
Again
Lost in a world
Where all things
Know their place
And there is a place
For all things
No doubts
Just relief
In knowing
You are done
Untitled #6 (Audacity)
I was starved for a ravenous look
his words, a hook my bitten lip just took
he tugged, as two
intentions shared a smile.
I looked around
his room and found his face
replaced the walls in rather kitschy taste.
He was
just that face,
a body,
chiseled from dark earth
a space in time that
night will swallow
if polite.
It turns out he wasn’t.
So, with my why’s satisfied
feet led and head followed
heart to bed.
I marveled at Audacity–
where he lives with others,
brothers, all thrust in a maze
of their own self-lust
and I pity him–
so undone by my
“dic tion”
’cause he can’t tell his friends
what I said or did not do.
Practicing
She never cried on Sundays. It was her “covenant” with God. She loved Jesus so much that she’d often stay in bed all day, taking lines of my Ritalin to help her focus on the scripture.
I didn’t know anything then, sitting in the smell of lukewarm chicken broth, in our kitchen the color of faded lemondrops. She stirred aimlessly with one hand as the other clutched her morning mimosa.
I asked her why the pages in the Bible were bloody.
“It’s a reminder,” she said finally, wiping roughly at her nose, “of all that He did for us.”
A single tear made rivets in the silence of my soup. She almost never broke her promises.
