Dec/20/2009: Puddles
The outside world, like a gloomy vacuum
of dust mites and mists of Avalon
no warning sign, but it begins to rain.
Where I am inside, my ears are unaware
Through the glass the inverted ocean is muted
evaporated waves coming down in sheets and droplets
I only know to study the puddles
little mirrors scattered all over the sidewalk,
rainbow ones on the street that the cars leave
A few drops bend a puddle that takes them in to grow larger
each puddle wants to grow larger, to meet the ocean, they want
to show that they won't dry up next time the sun comes out
The grayer the rain cloud, the better
only luck decides which cloud they're formed under
The puddles, in turn, study the umbrellas
it's not their day until water pours down the plastic like a shower curtain
until people run for their front doors, polyester shields left behind in the car
until fury driving the wind flips and tears the umbrella away
Drivers splash high-speed gutter water onto puddle laps, or someone crazy enough
to wash their car during a storm sprays a hose in their direction
but reflections to the clouds all gleam the same way
"Take us with you when the sun shines through the blinds
and the wave of the ocean follows a bit behind."
of dust mites and mists of Avalon
no warning sign, but it begins to rain.
Where I am inside, my ears are unaware
Through the glass the inverted ocean is muted
evaporated waves coming down in sheets and droplets
I only know to study the puddles
little mirrors scattered all over the sidewalk,
rainbow ones on the street that the cars leave
A few drops bend a puddle that takes them in to grow larger
each puddle wants to grow larger, to meet the ocean, they want
to show that they won't dry up next time the sun comes out
The grayer the rain cloud, the better
only luck decides which cloud they're formed under
The puddles, in turn, study the umbrellas
it's not their day until water pours down the plastic like a shower curtain
until people run for their front doors, polyester shields left behind in the car
until fury driving the wind flips and tears the umbrella away
Drivers splash high-speed gutter water onto puddle laps, or someone crazy enough
to wash their car during a storm sprays a hose in their direction
but reflections to the clouds all gleam the same way
"Take us with you when the sun shines through the blinds
and the wave of the ocean follows a bit behind."
Oct/8/09: Secrets
I've got a million words to say with a five hundred character limit
Paraphrasing is futile in this case but I'm told I'm concise
Perhaps we'll meet soon, in a place where I can speak
As the waterfall flows, I'll see you in the hidden cave
Only the bats can hear the echoes there.
There will be the day I spill the words of love, the endurance of love,
and the letter that can fit on my finger
When it will show my colors of weakness, vulnerable but not frail
(Therein lies the truth in my disguise)
You will see past my three hundred and sixty-five misdemeanor notes
For I am more than the black dots on your page
My name is dynamic and clean, you see it all the time
But I'll watch you take a stand, and you can watch me when I do
And maybe we'll see another world when you and I
Are placed between the line of strangers and spell the music through.
Paraphrasing is futile in this case but I'm told I'm concise
Perhaps we'll meet soon, in a place where I can speak
As the waterfall flows, I'll see you in the hidden cave
Only the bats can hear the echoes there.
There will be the day I spill the words of love, the endurance of love,
and the letter that can fit on my finger
When it will show my colors of weakness, vulnerable but not frail
(Therein lies the truth in my disguise)
You will see past my three hundred and sixty-five misdemeanor notes
For I am more than the black dots on your page
My name is dynamic and clean, you see it all the time
But I'll watch you take a stand, and you can watch me when I do
And maybe we'll see another world when you and I
Are placed between the line of strangers and spell the music through.
Oct/1/09: Angels Above
There is nothing singing
above the clouds. I am certain
God is there but he is alone.
I saw a raindrop the other day
It laughed before it died.
But the fire in the twinkle
told me everything, and I saw
that God is lonely. He has friends
who pray to him, they want
everything and the world
And he gives until he cannot
Yet the praise only begs for more.
I have seen many men fall to their knees
I have heard many women cry until they bleed
I have felt the children dying from all the need
But God is one alone, and his strength is not
limitless. The angels you have heard on high
are only eagles, who do not care for gods
Their wings that beat the wind
are not the hymns that you have written.
Time is closing soon, that invention will be lost.
Because God needs to rest, and for him we must die.
above the clouds. I am certain
God is there but he is alone.
I saw a raindrop the other day
It laughed before it died.
But the fire in the twinkle
told me everything, and I saw
that God is lonely. He has friends
who pray to him, they want
everything and the world
And he gives until he cannot
Yet the praise only begs for more.
I have seen many men fall to their knees
I have heard many women cry until they bleed
I have felt the children dying from all the need
But God is one alone, and his strength is not
limitless. The angels you have heard on high
are only eagles, who do not care for gods
Their wings that beat the wind
are not the hymns that you have written.
Time is closing soon, that invention will be lost.
Because God needs to rest, and for him we must die.
Jul/26/09: Hide and Seek
There was a smile
behind a doorway to a room
of fogged mirrors and chapped lips.
I scraped down hallways
of expended lights
My footsteps bounced
quietly along the walls
But the smile made not a sound.
I panicked then, I had to know--
Such a minute detail
that once did not belong
Wonder never came before.
Rushed by adrenaline
I tore into the morning room
Eyes searching vaguely
for that unfamiliar curve
And as I watched gold bullets
shoot through blasé blinds
A thought danced, held enthralled
The door clicked shut, I found it there
behind, a smile of my own.
I offered a tentative hand
Electric and urgent, a sensation sparked
The seams beneath my skin
Ripped, re-stitched, repaired
My stretched letter stole
exploring, across its newfangled face
Searing a line to find its corners
Aligning in conscientious consensus
A pleasant curl from the base
of my mouth, alive in surprise,
With pleasured aim and utter delicacy,
I smiled for the first time
in all its ingenuous fragility.
behind a doorway to a room
of fogged mirrors and chapped lips.
I scraped down hallways
of expended lights
My footsteps bounced
quietly along the walls
But the smile made not a sound.
I panicked then, I had to know--
Such a minute detail
that once did not belong
Wonder never came before.
Rushed by adrenaline
I tore into the morning room
Eyes searching vaguely
for that unfamiliar curve
And as I watched gold bullets
shoot through blasé blinds
A thought danced, held enthralled
The door clicked shut, I found it there
behind, a smile of my own.
I offered a tentative hand
Electric and urgent, a sensation sparked
The seams beneath my skin
Ripped, re-stitched, repaired
My stretched letter stole
exploring, across its newfangled face
Searing a line to find its corners
Aligning in conscientious consensus
A pleasant curl from the base
of my mouth, alive in surprise,
With pleasured aim and utter delicacy,
I smiled for the first time
in all its ingenuous fragility.
Jun/20/09: A Bid Of Farewell
One-hundred percent ruled the lines between the quarters resting with their bullet-ridden flags, lamed refugees and soldiered bunkmates who’d survived since the wires had measured one foot high.
On the smeared finger prints filed away in rows of dusty cabinets, I printed my fingertips on the ink that had been thoughtfully spilled, translating retired words simply forgotten and unspoken to their fullest capacities.
While the city, once swept so clean as preparation for the invasion, now lay open and lifeless, broken but not timeless because the clock still clocked and the hands spun the time away, missing only the second hand and the decimal point signaling midnight and midday.
“Maybe we could…have” was a lonely whisper I stumbled upon, lying in the field of trampled grass and rotted leaves, of soil and stones dyed red and greenly painted black, disrespectfully.
A remorseful blossom floated by, sorry for surviving, yet the sky stayed dry, as it had cried too much in the past, switching instead to a different tact.
Exactly so, thought a dew-eyed captain, who, with a newly sewed badge above his beating heart, turned from the gilded window, eager for another war to exact revenge long overdue to the honor of his dead father’s name.
The redness longed for a companion to play with in the dark, another color of its own to giggle and chase and swirl in. Metallic and cold, it longed for understanding, a life to beat for, for more veins to seep in and out of.
Locked away for a past twenty-even years, a forty-odd captive within the final cell of the last row in a neglected prison hadn’t given up on escape. Though the rusted key to his freedom had long since been thrown away, tomorrow was his birthday, and nothing was stopping him from digging the last hole of his life.
The darker souls continued to wander, restless, but entombed under old smoke and ashes and rubble, they were forced to bend disjointed knees, lower severed heads, and drag boneless hands across the dirt as they paced, eager for a chance, a reincarnate, a tool to exact century-old rage, unfettered and growing quietly over the years.
And so the yester-turned-today arrived and became, alight with the sparked fires of war in the eyes of the men and the ghosts and the blood that shivered. The past distorted, retracted, unfolded, melted, warping astride the present, until no one could draw a line between the two because there were no differences, except those on which they focused for the future, the after that could come to be but would not ever.
On the smeared finger prints filed away in rows of dusty cabinets, I printed my fingertips on the ink that had been thoughtfully spilled, translating retired words simply forgotten and unspoken to their fullest capacities.
While the city, once swept so clean as preparation for the invasion, now lay open and lifeless, broken but not timeless because the clock still clocked and the hands spun the time away, missing only the second hand and the decimal point signaling midnight and midday.
“Maybe we could…have” was a lonely whisper I stumbled upon, lying in the field of trampled grass and rotted leaves, of soil and stones dyed red and greenly painted black, disrespectfully.
A remorseful blossom floated by, sorry for surviving, yet the sky stayed dry, as it had cried too much in the past, switching instead to a different tact.
Exactly so, thought a dew-eyed captain, who, with a newly sewed badge above his beating heart, turned from the gilded window, eager for another war to exact revenge long overdue to the honor of his dead father’s name.
The redness longed for a companion to play with in the dark, another color of its own to giggle and chase and swirl in. Metallic and cold, it longed for understanding, a life to beat for, for more veins to seep in and out of.
Locked away for a past twenty-even years, a forty-odd captive within the final cell of the last row in a neglected prison hadn’t given up on escape. Though the rusted key to his freedom had long since been thrown away, tomorrow was his birthday, and nothing was stopping him from digging the last hole of his life.
The darker souls continued to wander, restless, but entombed under old smoke and ashes and rubble, they were forced to bend disjointed knees, lower severed heads, and drag boneless hands across the dirt as they paced, eager for a chance, a reincarnate, a tool to exact century-old rage, unfettered and growing quietly over the years.
And so the yester-turned-today arrived and became, alight with the sparked fires of war in the eyes of the men and the ghosts and the blood that shivered. The past distorted, retracted, unfolded, melted, warping astride the present, until no one could draw a line between the two because there were no differences, except those on which they focused for the future, the after that could come to be but would not ever.
Mar/13/09: The Magical Disappearance (Of A Wizard, Apparently)
The city sleeps alone tonight
Flavored mist, granted by the night of fireflies
A lonely walk, a deep thought, patience to wait
A croon whispered softly towards to sky, my love
Darkening matter looms on the edge and we dream
Of tattered beliefs and plead perseverance;
Punishment, a sacrifice in return for salvation
They already speak in past tense
simple terms set in motion
hastily, carelessly. Survivor’s guilt got him, they’ll murmur
Not the least bit aware. These ignorant people
Misguided, emotions running past empty, hinging their greed on falsehoods
An aging nun, a silent priest, creaking pews and a saddened steeple
Grace was amazing, but the future is here, a present for the present
Who needs this book and this lie to live a lovely life?
Another day to come and pass, another believer diagnosed
Psychosis, the walls tilted and echoed
Crazy person, the crowds outside nodded and agreed, greedily
Trow the dirt, faster! faster! The triumph littered the grave
Streamers with cigarette breath, surrounded in the scenery of extinct trees
A final prayer, closing door, broken keys, stuck lock
An ending breath, intake, release, to disappear
For nothing better, a growth to pride in only in death.
Flavored mist, granted by the night of fireflies
A lonely walk, a deep thought, patience to wait
A croon whispered softly towards to sky, my love
Darkening matter looms on the edge and we dream
Of tattered beliefs and plead perseverance;
Punishment, a sacrifice in return for salvation
They already speak in past tense
simple terms set in motion
hastily, carelessly. Survivor’s guilt got him, they’ll murmur
Not the least bit aware. These ignorant people
Misguided, emotions running past empty, hinging their greed on falsehoods
An aging nun, a silent priest, creaking pews and a saddened steeple
Grace was amazing, but the future is here, a present for the present
Who needs this book and this lie to live a lovely life?
Another day to come and pass, another believer diagnosed
Psychosis, the walls tilted and echoed
Crazy person, the crowds outside nodded and agreed, greedily
Trow the dirt, faster! faster! The triumph littered the grave
Streamers with cigarette breath, surrounded in the scenery of extinct trees
A final prayer, closing door, broken keys, stuck lock
An ending breath, intake, release, to disappear
For nothing better, a growth to pride in only in death.
Feb/6/2009: Cry Violet
It’s a fine thread tread on by mistake
Planned coincidence! It’s not a break
Of dawn, fast gray eyes, look me not
I’ve felt more presence than I’ve sought
Cross-hairs laser me straight, one hundred trillion cells on fire
Frozen electric, spilling guts and detonate wire;
Strapped to a prison as my battery leaks
My conscience loses and my future lies bleak
My nerves are detached but I can still blink
Lost in translation, my mouth cannot think
As they reach into my mind and bare my shame
Eyes closed, face turned, the questions stay the same
Blue reconfigures normalcy, but my eyes burn violet
locking away all the secrets I kept
I’d been nurtured without identity, my human wayside
I’m running out of time
I’ve been taught to believe in trust
But along with hope, belief rusts
Blind are the words that direct the walk
Another tally begets the chalk
On the winning side of losing, I’m found to be lost
There’s supposed to be a bridge here but somehow I can’t cross
Nine lives! mewed the crow as it swallowed the cat
They’d left a message on the wall, but my lies painted it black.
Planned coincidence! It’s not a break
Of dawn, fast gray eyes, look me not
I’ve felt more presence than I’ve sought
Cross-hairs laser me straight, one hundred trillion cells on fire
Frozen electric, spilling guts and detonate wire;
Strapped to a prison as my battery leaks
My conscience loses and my future lies bleak
My nerves are detached but I can still blink
Lost in translation, my mouth cannot think
As they reach into my mind and bare my shame
Eyes closed, face turned, the questions stay the same
Blue reconfigures normalcy, but my eyes burn violet
locking away all the secrets I kept
I’d been nurtured without identity, my human wayside
I’m running out of time
I’ve been taught to believe in trust
But along with hope, belief rusts
Blind are the words that direct the walk
Another tally begets the chalk
On the winning side of losing, I’m found to be lost
There’s supposed to be a bridge here but somehow I can’t cross
Nine lives! mewed the crow as it swallowed the cat
They’d left a message on the wall, but my lies painted it black.
Jan/25/09: The Eleventh (In Three Parts)
|.
The ambiguity of it all, it must be killing me
The lamps glow dim, flickering with the beating wings of moths
But I cringe in the shadows lit by fireflies with broken beams
Daring myself to come out, though the wolves pant and circle the spotlight
Come to us, join us, run with us they whimper
Taunted, I’m haunted by all the ways of the crescent lies lazily
The veins string along a yes but a test is run and the heart beats slow
The bloodied curses new and ancient old inscribed over the door give away nothing
But the opening swathed in weeds hold a secret within, waiting to be discovered…
||.
Gulls cry for cover, though the sea is nowhere to hide under
The claps thunder, the strikes light, the raps hail, the snaps rain
It’s pouring in the sea, blood unshed and tears unwept
The lived lives live down a signature,
Stamped with the breadth of a breath of Eve, a pact made with Lucifer, the left hand,
who never fell but directed the chaos below, who obstructed the Devil with his splendor,
to sign their lives away for the lone tablet fashioned in haste
What Ten Commandments? There were eleven
The last was supposedly accidentally lost, no, purposely
For the Almighty Above had mistaken the truth of its own creation, a discovery foiled to concealment
Tricked by the lies that gleamed like diamonds, diamonds of a snake
Green was a damper, and the red gloss was just too much
He punished his own of his jealousy, his misery
He gave them nothing, none of his love though he allowed them life, he forbade love
He had been deceived by conceit hard as glass, glass-beaded eyes of a snake
Until the veil lifted he grieved his mistake
The snake he condemned, he cried in fury
And as the sky reddened in warning
He shook, he wept, he heaved, he prophesied–
“The Eleventh shall hide the truth,
The Eleventh shall bring no relief,
The Eleventh shall perish the defiant,
The Eleventh shall shame the untainted
The Eleventh shall burn those most sacred
The Eleventh shall weaken the first ten and carry through to the twelfth, who shall betray
The Eleventh! The Eleventh!” he roared,
“The Eleventh decrees that no one shall bow down to me!”
This he proclaimed and threw across the landscape
But as the words poured through the seeds of being,
he regretted regretted and attempted to retrieve it
The all-knowing lost himself and knew all but himself, lost the Eleventh and regretted
Above he bore the force that drove the wind
But the lie he lay lies behind the glass-stained chapel
Beneath the rubble of rock, where lies the snake in eternal slumber,
Securely protecting what it has wickedly wrought.
|||.
The final arrival in the destination of finality
I’ve reached what I’ve sought all my life at last
My heart has given out my true age and my ending wish
Resolute, I’ve stated my sworn unhonors and unhopes
Hell has resonated with me since birth and I intend to carry on with nothing
But light manages to reach me through the thickest of darkness
The Devil, confused, allows it to send its request, and I don’t ask
A chance, the softness offers, to heal what has always been broken, a certain mistake.
Me? But I want this, not you, not what you want for me.
A million shards may still be pieced if you have the right glue.
No. I don’t need you. Take this light away, my soul aches.
The time passes with each letter that flies itself deeper into oblivion, but time doesn’t end and you will still be here.
Find another willing soul who would rather be saved. I’ve done no right and I intend to stay.
The shadows surrounding you grow large, but your true monster has long since been defeated.
My insides are permanently black. You’re nothing if not persistent, but I am stubborn.
The sun still shines, yet a shadow is cast to the East, painted with evil. Will you do it?
Then bring me back when I am done. I am not promising. No cross should bear my heart.
There will be no shame and I shall not promise either. This task will parallel your fears and recreate what you’ve believed and been. Are you ready for it?
Yes.
Find the missing Eleventh to redeem your lost soul, a soul equated with more than you believe. Find it, and you will discover within what you have always been missing.
. . . . Show me.
The ambiguity of it all, it must be killing me
The lamps glow dim, flickering with the beating wings of moths
But I cringe in the shadows lit by fireflies with broken beams
Daring myself to come out, though the wolves pant and circle the spotlight
Come to us, join us, run with us they whimper
Taunted, I’m haunted by all the ways of the crescent lies lazily
The veins string along a yes but a test is run and the heart beats slow
The bloodied curses new and ancient old inscribed over the door give away nothing
But the opening swathed in weeds hold a secret within, waiting to be discovered…
||.
Gulls cry for cover, though the sea is nowhere to hide under
The claps thunder, the strikes light, the raps hail, the snaps rain
It’s pouring in the sea, blood unshed and tears unwept
The lived lives live down a signature,
Stamped with the breadth of a breath of Eve, a pact made with Lucifer, the left hand,
who never fell but directed the chaos below, who obstructed the Devil with his splendor,
to sign their lives away for the lone tablet fashioned in haste
What Ten Commandments? There were eleven
The last was supposedly accidentally lost, no, purposely
For the Almighty Above had mistaken the truth of its own creation, a discovery foiled to concealment
Tricked by the lies that gleamed like diamonds, diamonds of a snake
Green was a damper, and the red gloss was just too much
He punished his own of his jealousy, his misery
He gave them nothing, none of his love though he allowed them life, he forbade love
He had been deceived by conceit hard as glass, glass-beaded eyes of a snake
Until the veil lifted he grieved his mistake
The snake he condemned, he cried in fury
And as the sky reddened in warning
He shook, he wept, he heaved, he prophesied–
“The Eleventh shall hide the truth,
The Eleventh shall bring no relief,
The Eleventh shall perish the defiant,
The Eleventh shall shame the untainted
The Eleventh shall burn those most sacred
The Eleventh shall weaken the first ten and carry through to the twelfth, who shall betray
The Eleventh! The Eleventh!” he roared,
“The Eleventh decrees that no one shall bow down to me!”
This he proclaimed and threw across the landscape
But as the words poured through the seeds of being,
he regretted regretted and attempted to retrieve it
The all-knowing lost himself and knew all but himself, lost the Eleventh and regretted
Above he bore the force that drove the wind
But the lie he lay lies behind the glass-stained chapel
Beneath the rubble of rock, where lies the snake in eternal slumber,
Securely protecting what it has wickedly wrought.
|||.
The final arrival in the destination of finality
I’ve reached what I’ve sought all my life at last
My heart has given out my true age and my ending wish
Resolute, I’ve stated my sworn unhonors and unhopes
Hell has resonated with me since birth and I intend to carry on with nothing
But light manages to reach me through the thickest of darkness
The Devil, confused, allows it to send its request, and I don’t ask
A chance, the softness offers, to heal what has always been broken, a certain mistake.
Me? But I want this, not you, not what you want for me.
A million shards may still be pieced if you have the right glue.
No. I don’t need you. Take this light away, my soul aches.
The time passes with each letter that flies itself deeper into oblivion, but time doesn’t end and you will still be here.
Find another willing soul who would rather be saved. I’ve done no right and I intend to stay.
The shadows surrounding you grow large, but your true monster has long since been defeated.
My insides are permanently black. You’re nothing if not persistent, but I am stubborn.
The sun still shines, yet a shadow is cast to the East, painted with evil. Will you do it?
Then bring me back when I am done. I am not promising. No cross should bear my heart.
There will be no shame and I shall not promise either. This task will parallel your fears and recreate what you’ve believed and been. Are you ready for it?
Yes.
Find the missing Eleventh to redeem your lost soul, a soul equated with more than you believe. Find it, and you will discover within what you have always been missing.
. . . . Show me.