christmas morning
here without warning
he's just awoken
but tired yet
pretty presents
he won't make a mess
tearing them open
he begins to dance
mom and dad in robes
rubbing their eyes, they've been told
johnny's been a good boy
look what santa's left
momma makes breakfast
he can't guess what christmas brings next
eggs & bacon galore
that was good,
can i have some more?
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 10:06 AM UTC
like clockwork
time passes
and falls to the ground
like today,
tomorrow,
and yesterday,
like clockwork,
days pass
and fall to the ground
time passes
thru souls so lost
time it cost
to find them
thru hearts so broken
time is only token
to mend them
thru memories
time only sees
days back then
time passes by
thru empty spaces,
touches the sky,
and breaks it
then minds of the old,
mended broken hearts,
and once lost souls
take it
piece it back together
into one
a newborn birth
to lose a soul
to break a heart
to grow old
time falls to the ground,
back to earth
like clockwork
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 10:01 AM UTC
friday afternoon
hands raised
still colored and stained
with the paint
from yesterday
sitting
fidgeting
not wanting to wait
I live for this day
standing there
watching the same
the day
for which I live
day after day
asked to stand
in front of them
and so I say
for show-and-tell
I brought my best friend
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 5:42 PM UTC
an empty lobby... behind the counter,
no one waits
empty chairs gathered around
just taking up space
paper walls cracked with time
and stained with age
so this is home...
an outline
where the calendar used to hang
the clock
stuck at three
and the sun hasn't shone for days
behind the counter
in another room
a man breathing
like the air will leave him soon
hey, mister
i'm looking for somebody...
i was hoping you could help me...
the man gets off his seat
and as he shifts
without a sound,
the old chair squeaks
he finds his balance
and makes his way to me...
in his hand
a walking cane
across his heart
a darkened stain
the fear and tears he bares
he bares the pain
you could see it in his eyes
the eyes that don't see past time
one foot in front of the other
one step, and then another
walking backwards
backwards in time
he takes his
and time takes him
he reaches the counter
and looks me in the eye...
he speaks his words
like a sweet soft song
he speaks with a half-smile
to hide all that's wrong:
up the stairs,
the second floor
on the right,
the second door...
he listens...
as i make my way to where he led
he listens...
painting a picture in his head
he listens...
to all that's dead
up the stairs,
the second floor
on the right,
the second door
deeper...
the heat draped in the sky,
the stars still in the night
deeper...
deeper into gray,
deeper and further away
the curtains
on the window down the hall
open, just to let the dust in
then let it fall
gathering with time
like missing pieces to a plan
never to see the same place again
from where they first began
the walls like jagged stone
edges chipped away
discolored with the tint
of never seeing day
and yet,
the night still fades
deeper...
calling up from the bottom,
up from the first floor,
an old voice in heavy gasps:
she checked out
some time before
and so i stand...
a stranger at the second door
back against the wall
the ground weightless beneath my feet
my head buried in my hands
listening...
...a beat
between the cracks and gaps
falling to the ground
falling...
without a sound
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 5:41 PM UTC
in a casual masquerade
we found ourselves
the two of us, crowded and alone
being the only ones exposed
we danced to music
the both of us didn't care for
we didn't mind, either, the windows
half open or half closed
forgetting our footing
dancing then broken by laughter
i fell into your eyes, at first led my toes
how we flowed, you flowed
how a boundary, our ceiling
had fallen once more like shattered pieces
of a mirror image no one really knows
still it grows, and we're all alone
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 5:40 PM UTC
i lie awake and i
reflect on my affection
somewhat consciously...
though i write and breathe with
the same, flowing alertness,
my thoughts, however, are not as graceful...
i find you somewhere
within this maze, with its throbbing walls
and musty confusion
to which i find no end.
at every turn, i falter
and where most routes are chosen,
i find i'm becoming better acquainted
with the ground:
it's endless, senseless detail,
lack of order.
we have our similarities, he and i...
though, as i walk upon him
he ages,
as do i,
and in the lapse of time
we only grow closer
usually by falling
and leaving our mark behind.
this is my journey to you,
this is my journey through you:
may they both be led happily
and in the same way, end,
though all the while, happiness being
knowing that it never does
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 5:39 PM UTC
Stand tall, dark and peaceful Night;
fall not into the open arms
of the distant fading light,
for, like the sun, alarms
are, too, destined to set.
But instead, March on
through fields of dancing, green,
endless shamrock silhouette,
where the beds of dirt they rest upon
are, in waking, always the most serene.
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 12:07 AM UTC
Mediocracy...
these words I write
governed by a
standstill, at-war democracy
that's got me medio-crazy,
executively lazy
judgmentally hazy,
and lawfully spacey,
running on as their own prisoner-of-war escapees
in search of freedom from the ordinary
and overly, extraordinarily
conservative binds
that constrict the construction
of these hardly courtly,
yet ordered lines.
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
Summer picnic under maple trees
thru brunette wisps
blew the summer breeze
At the table up the hill sat the family
talking of what life was like
to be free
Ran by the lake in a summer dress
never having to stop
never having to rest
Stood at the shore dressed in yellow;
could feel the sand
between delicate toes
Sore eyes looked down at her and saw two
there, at her side
but no one there knew
Gently touched the girl’s hand
so she would come to understand
there would come a time for her too
there would come a time when she grew
There would come a time for the sunrise
and the summer skies too,
but too quick for sore eyes,
too soon
Now she reflects and remembers
what it was like
to be younger
And she wishes
she could feel the summer breeze once more
at that family picnic, down by the shore
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 12:16 PM UTC
Your Surface caresses – the face –
Warm when the Sun is high,
When the Storm brews – you’re like a Whip –
How the Stars and Moon weigh,
Affecting your Tide upon us
Your Voice – is convincing –
Your Whispers – like Salt – on our wounds,
Though, through castles – slicing –
Built towards the Sky – by guided hands –
Curling over, crashing
Onto – raw – from tears shed – your Storms –
Born from Vengeance – washing –
Tainting what is held at – the heart –
Walls – swallowed – by shallow
Bitterness forced – our way – footprints
Swept – yet – we will follow
Jan 20, 2010
Jan 20, 2010 at 6:08 AM UTC