It's the smell of a mild summer evening. The grass, an occasional bloom mixed with overheated lawnmower and gasoline undertones. It's simplicity and classic rock love songs; U2's The Sweetest Thing. It is complete satisfaction overall, with a pang of uncertainty niggling at that fact. It's when the windows are rolled down with the wind blowing in your face, buffeting your hair. It's the sun shining through the trees--blinking and flashing like a strobe light. Hurts your eyes. Look away. Headache.
It's hearing beautiful things as if underwater. It's having a great idea but no means When you want to say something, but don't have the words. It's you. It is all of you and thank you.

Xeroxed vitals on paperplanes
Crashing into window panes
Broken-heart blisters and voyeuristic veins
Appear and create transparent glass stains
Blue-Green grass on the other side
Laying there, our fathers died
Dreams and streams of alcohol
Run from their mouths with no control.
Shaking, breaking, no where to decompose
Skin peeling off of worn down toes.
Tell me where their love goes
Tell me where their love goes
Everything turned into gun-shy eyes
Blue-lipped Sunday surprise
Bodies breaking into waiting
This is nothing but carbon dating
Bottles breaking of ***** that's so clear
That I won't see until they're near
God and Jesus in picture frames
Suburban families with jungle brains
Broken homes and replacement Brad's
401 k's and missing ads
Finding our homes that aren't so black and white
Let us sleep in our dreams tonight
Validation through our existence
Is dead but still our resistance

I fear the warrior has fallen asleep,
Lulled into chains in the Demon’s keep.
Forgotten prisoner of noble mind,
Honour and justice abused and blind.
And the Race continues in a headlong rush,
Repeated warnings of disaster, all hush, hush.
Wanton greed leaving resources depleted,
Bold voices of reason ignored and defeated.
The world’s inhabitants playthings of destruction,
Mankind’s demise profitably under construction.
What then; the high price of material wealth,
Wallowing deep in the red with nature herself.
The unforgiving Earth spins our lives into death,
Climatic chaos drawing our last dying breath.
Eons of achievements now just whimsical schemes,
As our entire existence floats away with our dreams.

©Paul M Chafer 2014