Vivid visions of the past lurk me,
I’m walking on the avenues of once a quick man’s vision,
driving in car models a dead man thought
and voting with rights dead men and women fought—
for, we’re all living life through dead men’s visions—
books of laws and morals woven by dead men’s *****—
subconscious slaves to dead ways.
So ask me about “life” and I’ll reply,
*I’m still waiting to live like my master
for everyone that lives dies
but everyone that dies lives.

Her laughter echoes,
Sorrow follows after dream,
Silence in morning.

I, round the brae of Howth in chalky light,
Lamented my lot more spent in sport than play.
There, land appeared disinterested and sight
Was a teary well.  Cold was the shivering day,
And my frame, a ghost of shadow, was erased,
It receded like the fog.  Just then, overhead
I saw brave birds engaged, a raptor traced
A mourning dove’s faltering flight, how it fed
Its own shining sense of purpose, for not
Wanton sport or lordly state do falcons
So hunt, nor did the bird in peril belabour
His reason, rather he tried avoiding those talons.
A question answered itself within my breadth,
Survival resides in a pageantry of death.

Her eyes were as green as the grass she ran across
as she stepped out of the car and began to sprint up to me
her gait was full of hope,
her smile showed every emotion she'd ever felt
all the pain
all the fear
all the coming to Jesus with a prayer.
But as she saw me standing all alone
and the look on my face telling all,
she new that something was terribly wrong.

I told her the news as best as I could
just trying to keep my own composure
When I was done, I managed to ask if she needed to hang around a while
She just whispered "..no.."
She went back to the car and stepped inside
I never saw her wipe a tear
I was half tempted to tell her flat out that she was coming back home with me
but she said "I need to be alone"

That night i went home and went to sleep
a dream awaited me
It was her in a gorgeous white dress,
her pupils had gone dove white.
she said
"Tell momma and daddy i love them,
they're still trying to save me.
Its hopeless, they just can't see.
All the pills they forced down my throat never did help me,
only the love of the one thats now gone."

"Be a good boy, Play "Beautiful Things" at the funeral.
don't let 'em mourn me too long.
They have better things to do than think of me."
I woke up with a start and got the call from the hospital
Her parents said they needed to see me.
When I got there all i did was say good-bye
and wipe the tears from her mother's eyes.

Story goes that she drove over to the town two hundred miles away
No one knew her beautiful face and the hurt it possessed
Its said that she drank more than she had in her whole life
and grabbed the keys before the bartender could ask if she needed a ride
Cops found the car crashed straight into a tree
they said it must have been going 90.
I guess thats what happens when the girl falls in love with the Marine.

The one constant in life is the opposite of it.
Death.
Lives come and lives go.
People are dying on the East coast right now
and people are being born on the West coast.

The one constant in the mind is the loss of it.
Insanity.
People find themselves and lose themselves.
People are being reborn on their journey's
and people are destroying themselves with their bottle's.

The one constant in love is the loss of it.
There is no word for it.
People create love out of thin air and destroy it just as quick.
People are falling in love with those around them
and those around them are tearing it down in the meanwhile.

The one constant in poetry is the lack of it.
Rants.
People spill their hearts or they spill their guts,
People are writing right now, as I am writing
and I'm also just talking to myself: Poetry.

I wish to become my poetry
Endless thoughts on paper
Lost in time
Forever seen
For then I can never truly die