My home has been invaded.
Not by the usual suspects.
Instead, by the ravenous locusts of judgement.
Of the "I told you so's" and not good enough's.
A territorial plague that infests the very structure of molecules.
Never has a room so full felt so empty.
Devouring the fabric of electron bonds
To where the air itself is heavier than water
And my lungs choke,
Desperate for smoke.
The condescending eyes,
The pollution of a space I once called mine.
A space once pristine has now
Festooned itself in patternous greed
Where opinion is paragon before law
And the laws once laid
Leave a cavitated wake
As they lay helpless by the wayside
Waiting for a passer-by
To claim the unclean deed
And draw away what sickens me
The raw and busted hide
Plays brave but cracks to the festering wound
Of unbridled, wild pride.
So strong are those that sit on perceived thrones
That even in another's home
Basic courtesies are considered contrived.
And the sickness soaks
Deep in the bones
Of the worn and weary
We should all hope to press without due regard
Late last night I had a date with Death
And she wore a corsage of my last breath
Around her wrist and
I dressed to impress
Half-heartedly desperate to look my best...
I wore a sweater-vest
With a spoon, I slit my throat
And pulled my tongue through the narrow hole
I figured I was getting dressed to die
So I wore a cuban neck tie
I picked her up at eight
On the street parallel to the eastern gate
Of a golf course adjacent to cemetery trees
... Seemed about right to me.
We strolled through the evergreens
And a thorny briar of trees
Silently chewing on epitaffy
I was unsurprised that there was a plot
I had not surmised
And when we found ourselves raising hell
I checked my watch for the time
I walked her home along the shores
Of a river called Styx
With a gondolier called Charon.
And despite his non-speaking tone,
It was nice.
We walked to a house made of brimstone and bricks
I found myself standing at Death's door
and peered inside expecting fire
But instead the fireplace was roasting goat hide
And I leaned in for a kiss
Instead of a kiss, all she gave me is...
A pat on the shoulder
And said we could still be friends
After all, we'd be together in
What dew so sweet
On the morning willow grows
And the blood runs true deep
Alas the body overthrows
Pray thee to gaze
Lay waste to the east
Upon western glades
Resounds, the bay of the beast
In mortal coil
On cracked earth resign
The body transform
Lay return to the mind
And in provincial mist
Walk thee twixt the cold
Eyes upon skin
And tattered remnants of clothes
And speaketh no name
But pray eat and sleep
And rest now anon
A fortnight defeat
For liketh the moonrise
Three days a month full
Give rise, hounds of hell
Ne're the sunrise to cull
Some men fight for charity
Some to save their youth
Some men fight for pride
Against an evil brood
Some men wish for safety
Far from foreign shores
While some men live and die
By the blade of their own sword
And while we waste the days at sea
Alone and unafraid
And long times from our lives and homes
We often tend to stay
The claim is always righteous
The innocent to save
And while men stand on walls at night
Some sleep in the shadows wake.
And Neptune mighty, king alas
Send fair winds and following seas
And guide onto familiar shores
Those that choose to ride with me.
I dont mean to deceive you, men
I aim to misbehave
For those who stand fast, I intend
To place you in harm's way.
So make your peace to the deep
And Davy Jones be kind
Let your waters run swift and true
Leave no man left behind
I feel sometimes
That I am standing on a ledge
That when the clouds clear
And the seas are calm
I can glean a moment
Of the lost Atlantis
And far above the city lights
I can touch the stars
And capture a breath
Of the human soul
If you could for a moment
Experience this elation
Than you would come to realize
That at most you know nothing
And that simple fact
Is the greatest truth to know
On the edge of this precipice
Made jagged by fire escapes
The world below seems small
And falls away to nothing
The grand canyon cannot reach so deep.
It is here that I find a segmented
Illusion of peace
And a serenity
That escapes me so completely
When I look away
That I become empty
A vessel without a captain
A being without purpose
On this ledge
I have more strength
Than the bitter moments that
Fill the space between these interactions
Here I can know God
And I am not a believer
In these breaths of
Where I can finally be alone
And in that loneliness
Finally find a path
That allows me to stumble
My way back to myself
When I am on the verge
Of all that I am
Of all I could be
At this point of decision...
Is someone trying to talk me down
Your interest seemed so sincere
I thought I ought pretend these words have purpose
But as you read
You will see
That these words are worthless
You fell for it.... don't hate. :)
Where I grew up
We didn't celebrate celebrity
And weren't slaves
to the cattle-drivers of the masses
Where I grew up,
We were just young
We toiled on train-tracks
Inventing troubles requiring
A daring escape.
With our stick-strapped-satchels
We foolishly mocked the local bums
Jealous of their freedom.
Ignorant of their pain.
Imitation is the hallmark of love
And yes, we loved the bums
And we were thorough through it
Where I grew up
The incandescence of the late afternoon
And early morning suns
Drew in a vibrant orange
Cast as paint on pale walls
The apartment... and eventually... the house
Shone brighter for it;
Though it seemed to struggle less in a house
That was considerably more empty
Especially around the holidays.
Where I grew up
We were taught racial and radical equality
Exacted with extreme prejudice
At every pep rally and presumably PTA meeting.
And while neighboring towns held race riots
We were racing our bikes, well...
I do miss my rollerblades
Where I grew up
Every girl was pretty as a movie star
And chased the bad boys
Like in every story I'd ever heard
And those boys won by popularity and power of presence
Girls they never deserved
Where I grew up
In winter we built massive palaces
From the winter's teardrops that huddled together
For warmth after the plow
Where I grew up...
I grew up too soon.
A little more than a little at a time
And it became clear
I had to move.