You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

They shoot the blackbirds
In locked cages
For singing of living freely.
They say
"No! No! No!
Those birds are insane
Bums
Losers
Dead to society.
Now,
Go to work
Go to school
Stop at stop signs
Marry
Have children
And pay taxes."
But I heard the lunatic chirping
Riding on the echo
Of a shotgun blast
It said
"Nothing really matters
And the people aren't as important
As they think.
The boundaries they set
Never really existed.
Now quit your job
Throw your wallet in the garbage
And run naked in the streets"
It sounded beautiful
And I can't seem
To get its ringing
Out of
My skull.
How long should I
Pluck
These black feathers
Of mine?

We are never the same person twice.
"Now" ends as soon as the word is uttered;
whoever we are in one breath
flickers and fades in the next
until it is a thing of the past,
a guttering candle.

We are never the same person twice.
I promised myself I'd never fall for a smoker.
You promised yourself you'd never smoke.
And we swore to each other we were not promise-breakers.
So tell me,
when I first saw you with
the ****** thing
between your fingers,
why did I so badly crave
the taste of nicotine
as long as it meant
your lips against mine?
And why was I willing to risk
entering your carcinogen-filled haze
just to be near enough
to hold your hand?

You turned me against my own self,
yet I could not bring myself to hate you.
You could not bring yourself to love me,
though I've given you all the reasons to.

We are never the same person twice.
Yet we are not always so volatile.
I constantly find myself on my knees.
I am constantly digging through our ashes,
Searching for embers that must still be there.
I constantly find you towering above me.
You are constantly pacing around in your drenched shoes,
Blindly extinguishing everything we could ignite
With your saltwater tears I know will never be for me.

We are never the same person twice.
I await the morning this actually feels true.
The morning I wake up a version of me
That is no longer in love with every version of you.

Where the candles illuminate your face..
Where my dreams get the illumination just right..
I see you there for a moment for an eternity..
As my dream candles reflect in your eyes..
You light up my darkness with your luminescent soul..

Soon, the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And maybe in your dreams discover
Words and lines to keep.

For the darkness is a tunnel
Straight to Heaven’s door,
There a thousand poets wait for you -
A thousand gone before,
Before their works were finished,
Before their jobs were through
Now creation of the masterpiece
Is solely up to you.

Hear their spirit, poet!
Listen very close.
You’ve been chosen as the protégé
But do not brag or boast
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like hell-fire, burns you up,
Leaves you thirsting for some water
And reaching for a cup,
That crumbles when you grab it.
While the water turns to dust,
But still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

Feel their breath, oh poet!
Cool upon your skin,
Though sweat and perspiration
Reveal the torment trapped within.
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like a pen that’s out of ink,
Leaves you reaching for a pencil,
And needing time to think,
But both ends are erasers
Now your passion turned to lust
So still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

For the darkness is a tunnel
A tunnel straight to Hell
There a thousand poets wait for you -
At a long abandoned well,
Before their works were finished,
The waters all ran dry
There will be no masterpiece
If all the poets die.

Shh, soon the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And a thousand poets after you
Will search for words and lines to keep.
Phil Lindsey 6/9/15