think of an utterance elicited somewhere far off
a language of lies
things announced, but never taken
by the senses of your peers

imagine the sound of a collapsing planet
fire and ice and crystal dust
core grinding,
ground scraping,
forms lost as it falls apart

the roar of a dying star
like an angry beast in the dark
its long reach takes with it its legacy
existences sustained

comets which streak by
frigid tails that catch the eye
an aurora in its blinding light
a show best visible at night

unseen collisions
yet always acknowledged
confirmed - for sure - by expensive machines
watching as they go
from our house and down the road

they pass an unseen boundary
crossing to the other side
their noises,
a symphony
the beginnings and ends of life

passing like the moon
in the light of the dawn

we have a perspective,
without reason
to truly believe

i’d rather take this chance,
than lose it once and forever

i’ll live out the rest of this dream
in unshakable regret
at the words i never speak
when it came time to

a vision
an illusion
something deep within my thoughts
an idea,
something fake
unreal
untouchable

where was it that we have gone
i won’t step back to into it
there are no maps of reality
in a dream that i cannot remember
a world of abstract mythology
of aspirations and fouled hope

thank you for the introduction
but i think i will take it from here
frankly, i've got nothing going for me
and i'd hate to have to rely on
your virtual handouts

it is certainly more than slightly
awkward to think
that whatever my spoken word cannot
reveal
these digital letters can

yet even then
i possess a dichotomy in personality
unparalleled in its legitimacy

i wonder
how cheery and nice i sound to you
through these words that you will never see

when i know
i am looking out there
i do not see
a different man

just, a person

i find myself
facing disaster
i see the sun
dying in your eyes

born of fury
in the darkness
fall to dust
in the night
time is failing
love - forgiveness
i will hold you
through the night

and the moon is a desert
where the wind cannot wail
we fill our deadened sea
with tears of joy
and never ending hope

is this the world you won’t remember?


frozen in time
a second in infinity
your mind is alive
warmed by a memory

moments here are lost
silence at my touch
in dreams i follow you
through voice a darkness grew

flashpoint
lost in a haze

safe to stay
from our mistakes

a future
that we fail to see

in another world
growing still
endless time
nothing wasted, nothing wanted

and i
can change the past
my fury
melts the past

you’re
out of sight - out of mind

elements of anger
wastes the night
winter’s fury
burns it bright

elements of anger
claims the sight
winter’s edge
obscures the night

i claim the light

flash. kaboom. there goes the neighborhood.

the sky lit up in the dead of night
birds went quiet, kids started to cry
had the messiah come to deliver us from earthly sin?
had the angels descended to fight their fallen kin?

bombers, whose engines shrieked their resolve
razed the ground below in days long lost,
to the hours they lived in
cities burned to the ground
in a heat which smelled of powder and flesh

people screamed
but nothing legible
just sounds, like claws on a chalkboard
empty noise
without meaning

reach to the sky
walk on the clouds

we have a dangerous penchant
for self destruction
in our times of struggle
we seek to fight
we find glory in power
and praise in an outcome

we want war
we stand alone
we want revolution
we want a change
we want violence
we want hate
we want resolution
which we cannot create

reach to the sky
turn to rain
walk on the clouds
it always ends the same

the sweat cools
where the body overheats
in sudden wakefulness
within the dead of night

no sounds but the heavy breathing
of a startled form beneath the covers
momentarily dazed, unaware of the surroundings
in which it finds itself

eyes shut, it all comes back again
those lucid pictures, vivid sounds
where insects crawl beneath the skin
and one drowns on land

the fault was singular, of course,
a suicide in a fake landscape
a poor show of emotion
where no one may judge

quite often it would happen
in painless reality
where red stains white and
black beats blue

the air kissed the blades of his wings,
the concrete,
a firm pillow for his aching soul

the sun may rise again,
but some things stay dead