It's become clear that I've been charred by the lighting
And left deafened by the thunder
And somewhere along this trail of clouds
I've failed you
But the more I breathe, the more I believe
That the storm we weather
Will always make us savor the blue

The weight of my insecurity
Tips the scale beyond capacity
Yet I still bear the burden every day

The sound of my inner voice
Reverberates within my ear, duplicitously,
Yet I nod in subtle agreement anyway

The pulse of my constant fears
Makes my heart envious of its rhythm
Yet my veins ever widen, to my dismay

All while the warmth of my depression
Has become far too safe a shelter in this cold
Yet it seems that the frostbite....

.....is still underway

It's my birthday today, and I can remember a time
When some things weren't so distant
And other things weren't so close

I remember when all I ever wanted
Was to pull you close and make love to you
To be part of something I couldn't understand

I remember when all I ever wanted
Was to find the edge of our universe
To find the brightest of stars instead of the deepest of scars

But now, the effortless way you drift away
Makes me feel empty and unsheltered
And rusts away at dreams that once shimmered

It's my birthday today, and I can remember a time
When I wanted a future with you
More than I wanted a future with myself

I keep a faded picture
Thirty-two cents
And some lint in my pockets

The picture is who I was
The thirty-two cents is who I am
And the lint is what I will become

Keep pace, troubled feet
I am chasing my ghost through corridors again
Where the dark is boundless
And light is hunted like a hungry mouse
Save face, troubled eyes
Close now, leave tomorrow to the visionaries
Where life has become a race to the graveyard
A place where all the winners finally lose

So, I revel in my own destruction
I am judged by the jury of my own chapped hands
And I stitch wounds that have,
For all intents and purposes, become threadbare

Stay here, faint whisper
Stay within the shadows where I can hear you
Leaps and bounds have been taken
But night won't abandon me like the cowardly sun
Don't fear, faint courage
Rise up, leave lethargy to its hibernation
Clutch tightly to the reasons for your existence
Break skin and bone if it means your survival

But, I revel in my own destruction
I'm judged by the jury of my own squinted eyes
And I stitch wounds that have,
For all intents and purposes, become threadbare

Timidly, I step from hue to hue
In darkly lit dreams, I trip over blue
November abates, but December shuns
Nimble feet dance across a midnight sun
In exile, I stray into a path of thorns
Tearing flesh from bone like a lover's scorn
Grief, like rain, soaks me from head to toe
Stars, without name, chased back to shadow
I blatantly defy the brittle words of a liar
Yet, timidly, I step across the ice and the fire
West we go, for our chances are fleeting
I miss the mess that I was, is history repeating?
A plea resounds through the battered night
Names unspoken, surely an oversight
Take my hand, follow me back to the abyss
Where brokenness is whole and ignorance is bliss

Timpani,

Set the beat of my disposition
Be the background to a frail condition
But don't stray too far from this broken heart

Echo the pain of my convictions
Bring forth rains that drown ambitions
But don't stray too far from a hollowed chest

Timpani,*

Become the music in my musician
Erase the scars of this inquisition
But don't stray too far from my humility

Pilfer just a hint of intuition
Become the sound of my ammunition
But don't stray too far from the edge of my sight

Echoes have grown quieter
Raindrops on the tin roof have grown softer
And daybreak feels like just the sequel to night

Patience has grown thinner
Vultures have grown bolder, and hungrier
And I find myself starting to sprout wings

I used to speak with a fraction of compassion
I used to smile with a tinge of yellow
I used to sleep with the promise of sweeter dreams

But now, the reality is,
Nothing makes me happy anymore,
Not even sadness.

And mired in that realization,
I am losing all sense of color
And by tomorrow, I may awake as pallid as the moon

I see you glancing at the brush,
But our bristles don't hold paint the way they used to
And for all the folly in our atmosphere, I am sorry
I know I'm the one who exhaled the most

Remember, your father told you,
"We run the most standing still,"
But my stars have remained perpetually frozen
Since my love ceased blushing your alabaster skin

If you cinch the tourniquet too tightly,
To summer's dismay, I may not heal by autumn
And whether you whisper treasons of the universe or not,
My anchor's still aweigh by first light

Broken words taste bitter upon my tongue,
And it's becoming clearer and clearer
That you were my road to Arcadia
But, as I am prone to do, I derailed us both

I see you glancing at the brush,
But our bristles don't hold paint the way they used to
And for this achromatic atmosphere, I am sorry
I know I'm the one in black and white

There's no evidence
Outside of the standard fare
Newspapers, melodies, and such
That any of us are real

The way we dispatch
With pleasantries and daydreams
And recoil from the sunrise
With the swiftness of a blink

There's only proof
That we squander oxygen
With every infected inhalation
And do it all over again

Traced by a pencil,
We're still waiting
For a simple splash of color,
Both brilliant and bright

Sometimes, my words end up lost in translation  
I feel as though I'm speaking
To a room full of bystanders
None of whom care what spills forth
From this cotton mouth

It's like there are two of me
One to speak the words
And another to think the thoughts
Neither are in communication
Neither know who the hell I am

Scatter-brained is a loose term
Loosely held together by patience
And carelessly painted grey mornings
My head collects the words
And the same head rejects the connotations

I can't open my lips for all this trembling
I've never been one to placate nerves
Or to weave brilliance out of inhibitions
I just ransack the audience's hopes
And sprinkle them with pessimistic hail

Some might believe I may be hamstrung
By a heel only Achilles might covet
And a frailty in how I read between the lines
If I fail to impress, will I just forget?
Or scar myself with phantoms of things unsaid?

Undoubtedly, there are places for people
Like me, of my ilk, of my stature
Not that I've ever stumbled into such a place
Or climbed the ladders that they set
In front of feet that prefer the ground

The memories come
The way a flood comes to a desert
But it's too late, I am parched again
Footsteps
Footsteps linger through forgotten halls
But as a father I'm just an echo within

Bitter is just a different sweet
And sweet is just a different bitter
Tread lightly, each step is more reckless than the last
Trespasser!
You trespass on ground not made for your two feet
So move thyself, and do not return til' storm has passed

I once spent uncertain days
Drowning inside the wishing well
Dry, and drier still the wishes would become
Terrible
Terrible, all the things that I would rip undone
I devoured the essence of all I loved for just a meager crumb

Under layers,
A word lies dormant in the dark
Under pressure,
A quiet rage swells in the deep
Soft earth,
Hardened where good men fell
Eve of eradication,
Waiting on division and the end
Under clouds,
We tear the fabric of blue skies
Under bombs,
We shed the skin of our apathy
Beleaguered body,
Sleep now, so I can dream
Surreptitious knives,
Withdrawn from the back of belief
Wander off now,
Til' tripwires change your mind, child
Come home again,
Death begins at the first uttered word
Come home again,
Life ends at the sound of silence

My world distorts around me
I seem stuck in two swirling dimensions
These photographs are just faded sketches
Of a life I no longer remember

Climbing, falling, heaven and hell calling
My feet are cut by splintered halos
I would stand on ceremony
But my knees are buckling and losing strength

Slipping, sliding, sun and moon colliding
I dance with these apparitions rising
My heart is heavy but my burdens light
While this cataclysmic civil war rages into dawn

There's an aperture in my memory
And I feel my sanity spilling out
Each step I feel the vertigo growing stronger
Am I a caricature for an audience of one?

Silence!
The field mice have scurried off,
With the last of our sinister seeds
In their spangled, spiteful masquerade
Now the reddest of rivers carry wistful reveries
Out to a cold, callous sea
Tomorrow, the sun may climb once more
But where peace sleeps, war dreams

Coveter!
Dwell within your own spirit,
For these souls have wretched memories
And their willful, wanton deeds
May yet still sunder sons and daughters
From mothers and fathers
Tonight, we stitch our children back together
Because where peace sleeps, war dreams

If I took a walk around
In your unconscious, what would I find?
Would I see myself bouncing around
Like a pinball
Or soaring through the air
Like a phoenix rising?

Would I collide with your dreams
And be annihilated?
Would I see you naked
And cowering in your shame?
Or clothed in all your splendor
Like the day our eyes first met

If I took a walk around
In your unconscious, would I see how to love you?
Would I witness your favorite movie?
And be splashed by your favorite colors
Would I see the pain that you stowaway
Or the smiles you've yet to discover?

Would I want to run from your demons
Or take up sword and shield?
Would I see the same man you see
Everytime you look at me?
Or would I stare at myself, thoughtfully, and wonder
Who is this person I pretend to be?

There are depths of him
That will never see the light of day
The best of intentions only dig deeper
The seeds he plants only wither and decay

"My undoing" says the poet,
"Is the pity behind my personae,"
"The faults lie at my doorstep,"
"An eternity away from utopia."

He will never declare peace with his pieces
No matter how many wars he has waged
He will never surrender to his demons
Never unlock the key to his cage

"But the true culprit of the caper," says the poet,
"The orchestrator of this somber symphony,"
"The dastardly villain behind the hideous mask,"
"Will always....be me...."

Nothing's on my mind
Least of all, you
Because the world scatters its superstitions
In varying shades of blue

Sacrifice your sanity
To chase bliss with calloused feet
Sacrifice your yesterdays
For a glimpse of tomorrow's heartbeat

Sacrifice your piteous condition
For a second chance at history
Sacrifice the bittersweet aftertaste
After you leave what's left of me

Nothing's on my mind
Least of all, you
Because the world spins on emptiness
In varying shades of blue

Therapy is a drenched raincoat
In this holy war of insignificance
I have no fear of these falling leaves
Tangled webs, or mangled governance

I scale the sky with winter's hands
I wash my face with summer's pesticide
We still revel in these accouterments
While quarrels fade with the coming tide

Fraying edges will tell of my road
Crumbling youth will sing of my songs
I am vindicated in saltwater seas
As falling stars shall right all my wrongs

Part I

There is a trail that I've walked a time or two
Wearing heavy shoes made of crackling fire
I've left behind only a charred unrecognizable road
And a sunrise as bitter as its roots

The trail parts swiftly, cleaving me as it cleaves itself
My route is camouflaged in winter's blanket
I spin on heels that have worn their welcome
And I walk beyond the borders of this dream

There's an old woman in a cottage
Who tells me I have a mist behind my eyes
"Brown is the color of failure," I tell her as I pass
And she flashes a half-smile that chills me to my bones

Part II

Late to rest, yet early to rise
Quarrelsome images tirelessly haunt my sleep
The old lady waves from the bottom of the hill
But it's too late to turn back now

I see a saddle of good weight resting against birchwood trees
Yet no sign of steed for miles around
As calloused palms meet calloused leather
I sense the spirit of its rider wash over me

The path now winds like a time traveling clock
My breathing hastens as my feet carry on
I hear whistling but I'm unsure of the source
Is it me?  Or is it something out of sight?

Part III

I come to a clearing at long last
Blistered feet have taken me far, just not far enough
My pupils sense a brightness I haven't encountered before
Instinctively, my hands shield my cowering eyes

The old woman is there, whispering to lilies
In a language my mind has no hope of comprehending
She pays no heed to my presence at all
Yet she knows that I linger in my bewilderment

She plucks a lily from the unblemished earth
And I see a brilliant steed at the center of the shimmering field
"Brown is the color of failure," she says with a parched grin
And suddenly my path becomes very clear

Part IV

I flinch as the light overwhelms my perception
Evolving now into an ethereal embrace
Though blind, my feet move without my mind's approval
And suddenly I am mounted upon the majestic horse

Like a snare drum, its gallop is steady and gallant
My sense of direction in disarray as I'm carried through the woods
I hear the woman's hands wringing at weeds in the distance
Despite how far from the clearing I should be by now

The horse tenses and sneers as momentum careens to a halt
I feel myself being thrown through air, time, and space
My brown eyes blink as oxygen floods my rested lungs
Gasping, I realize I'm as awake as I have ever been

End.

She waltzes through his mind
While he trips over her melody
And eyes finally lay down their silent guns
He's a shameless drifter
A bedraggled amnesiac in disrepair
Yet he'll never forget the way she moves
The clouds burst of bronze as she rises
Rivers run of silver as she falls
But he remains a frozen epiphany
Her brilliant eyes like a morning star
Her lips flushed in crimson repose
As she sways her way into guarded memories
She waltzes through his mind
While he trips over her melody
And eyes finally lay down their silent guns

Stars are out
A few too many for a one track mind
To count
The scenery is like a matte painting
Where the artist
Simply forgot to finish

This December moon
Hangs a bit lower in the sky
Than I remember
Your hands feel icy
But if I turned my head
Your gaze would be colder still

My desires are self-evident
While yours flutter
And flitter in the winter breeze
There are no shooting stars left
They've all been shot down
Leaving dust to fall around us

Our lips used to crash
Along this horizon line
Saturated by a fountain of youth
But this phase has ended
We are waning like the moon
Waiting to be made new again

In one hand, I hold forgiveness
In the other, I hold deceit
I weigh each and every reason
To repay you with one instead of another
But I am merely human
And this scarcely beating heart
Has surpassed limits on its misuse
So I turn on the water
And wash my hands of them both

I am a weary traveler, yet I fatigue from sitting still
I've been on this trail, seeking medicine for my disease
Not sure if I'm still alive, or merely ill

I am lukewarm water, yet I burn from the cold inside
I stop at every impasse, pushing rocks out of my way
And wondering if my legs are broken, or if they overstride

I am a rudderless vessel, paying no mind to signs
As I drift from place to place, from dream to dream
Retreating from this world without a finish line

I am a weary traveler, yet I fatigue from sitting still
I've been on this trail, seeking medicine for my disease
Still not sure if I'm alive, or merely ill

We were the exception to the rule
We were the silence in the wind
We were the weapons of mass destruction
We were the end in every friend

We were the moonlight in the daytime
We were the covenant of emptiness
We were the broken raft on the beach
We were the clumsy in clumsiness

We were the railroad headed nowhere
We were the meteors in the atmosphere
We were the liars in the candlelight
We were the dry eyes behind the tears

We were the serpents in the underbrush
We were the venom in the veins
We were once the pillars, yet now the pillaged
We were once the sun, yet now the rains

These cracks grow ever wider
Opening, never closing
They breach the road of dawn's suffering

The steam rises in a barren winter
Warmer, and warmer
A preamble to a year of desolation

The chair in the corner rocks in rhythm
Monotone, creaking and shadowing
A ritual of maleficence that lives ever on

The clouds billow in the morning
Hastening, to a new day
They fill empty souls with a devil's breath

The distance grows ever wider
Opening, never closing
Breaching the walls of a windswept hamlet

The garden cowers into the earth
Retreating, for the sounds of silence deafen
Weeping for a dream that was never born