pungent coffee, stains my mouth, as
i sit and drink in my surroundings,
a carnival of unknown people, parade,
and talk, and shuffle around, each
balancing a steaming cup, careful not
to spill a drop, as chaotic roar
of countless voices, bubble
and boil over into incoherence - the
background noise of modern age,
conversation rendered silent, in
this coffee house

death is
just

cold.

not the fading memories
leaching, lost, into the soil,
and warped as jaded speech
woven through the livings tales.
death is seclusion from the sun,
to stall, to stop, to lose ones way,
forever left at last breaths point,
as time continues on its way.
a coldness deep, to lock in place,
persona lost, caricature replaced.
unknowing darkness keeps
the new unknown,
as coldness claims
the final home.

(for Kiwi - 06/08/2009)

in lieu of gifts and flowered word,
in my stead i'll place your care.
at each dawn i'll hold you near,
talking of our love so clear.
at each noon i'll hold your hand,
sharing of the day we'd planned.
after noon when we sit close,
your troubles i will comfort most.
on the eve we'll laugh and joke,
sharing smiles with other folk.
and as night falls and sleep takes hold,
my Love for you remains untold.

notes lie crumpled in your hands,
frown split lips spill forth your sobs,
as eyes - soft focus look beyond
the clouding veil of life.
slipping out, the blood red streams
(re) paint the bathroom floor.
thumping from the door makes up
missing beats from your chest:
faltering, looking backwards,
fogging mind grasps childhood wonder
sights and sounds and vivid flow
swimming through the decades past.
final breath amidst the splinters,
showering from the broken door,
distant echoes, growing colder,
time, it hangs, forever more.

Life is
fake,
life is
real,
life:
a concept,
thoughtless spiel.

Flesh bag, flesh sag,
stitched to fragile bone,
jelly eyes
**** the light,
as brain
devours the whole.

Gibbered lips,
cast to the air
the only tale they're told,
a truth, a truth,
that casts no light
beyond it's owners trail.

as curtain falls,
night takes its bow,
and words, they fade away.

a history, cast out of sight,
henceforth to be unknown.