the same, again, again

I am in the bunker
the wire is crawling with them
like so many black clad snakes
spewing venom at my brothers and at me
and I am out of ammo, my M16 magazines
empty, caked with mud

everyone is looking to me
for salvation, for a salvo of rounds
at the VC, and I find a twenty two
Ruger pistol, the same one I used
to **** a buzzard for sport, one
sinful desert day; and now I aim
at the enemy, firing over
and over, hitting them
dead center, but they
keep coming

I never run out of rounds
but the impotence of my fire
burns inside me--I reach for my empty M16,
but it's still empty--they keep coming

even when I wake, even when
the morning sun has blotted out
the black dream

they keep coming
I keep reaching, reaching
for the empty gun

Find the reason before you

Are fear of something,

I bet you will laugh at the reason

I have searched for you in many things found parts but never the components that existed  within the whole of you.
I have searched for you in others , I have searched for you in the bottle .

I have found emptiness in my efforts broken dreams bitter ends I have found rejection that you never allowed me to see within the dream you cast over are existence .

I knew as I awoke this morning the rains symphony cast upon a tin roof would cause me only to reflect .
I remember you without effort you were my evergreen and those are the worst kind of memories for no others can live up to the delusion of what once was .

Together in those moments we lived more than in these years apart .
I remember it all in spite  of my efforts to erase every single image of you from my dreams .

How I need that delusion when the silence brings nothing but pain.

I have to say goodbye to you now for the poison of what was is killing the moments I have left .

I realize love was are curse and time will remain the burden.

We were the best of are passion nights with you spoken words though few between in a passion cast serenade .
Would remain hours over simple sentences of others.

I wonder do we stand still somewhere in time if so I do not a more beautiful portrait ever could be painted in red sunsets and a oceans farewell.

The hardest thing I have ever done is closed my thoughts to you.

Goodnight sweetheart .

Maybe somewhere in time  we will wake together anew .

Scary yet essential.
I have forgotten how to do it.

ending excuses
I have told.
ending excuses  
I have sold.
I close off for a sense of simple.
What do I trust? Powders in a capsule or powers in what is said will come my way with time?
There is no no stuck if you choose to stay in the middle of the fork in the road. There is no lost if you choose to be alive.

I dreamed of my father
crossing the fields
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sadness
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
and I waded the creek
beneath a ridge
where my mother is shearing
dead roses and the smell
of those flowers floating
to the foot of the mountains
reminds me of her hair
and my father's laughter
disappearing across the hill.