They are both withered and grey.
Still, they wait.
The rooms here, and there, are silent and the halls are barren.
The paint on the fence has faded and all but chipped away.  
The moons have passed and so have many faces.
With each waning phase their bodies have weakened.
But something grows, so slow and steady it's hard to notice.
Still, they wait.
They have died.
In stillness, they wait.

Cross the distance
Close the gap,
Make a stride traverse a
Infinite chasm.
Every pale replacement
Is a soft lie
Whispered inward
At a truth, a need
To accept that
The otherside has faded to myth;
Fallen to shadow.

Having recall
Of the way oasis feels
With certainty, the grass is greener
Back in the place
Filled with emerald eyes
White teeth smiles,
Skin like guilded earth.
These
Recollections
Made me certain I was touching eternity
When the waves brushed my skin.
There is wordlessness in this knowledge
A sublimity, a divine loneliness
Knowing the expanse that
Divides lands,
Stretching beyond sight, perception, and physicality
Feels like nothing
In the distance between us.

Read me, Hear me.
I am existing somewhere
Strewn between each letter that
Your eyes caress.
I'm mingling with the meaning
I've chosen to impart
With riddles, with metaphors,
With everything but
The truth.

I'm tangible.
Whisper my writing and know
That I am a scrawled sentence
Of desperation;
A Vagrant, caught wandering
In the downpour
Without the language
To capture the way
The rain smells, or the wind tastes
Or the earth sounds.

Oh read, and know
That I am crying out
Along each line to the seraph
Of a letter that I've struggled with
To grant a modicum
Of the nonsense left in my heart.
I've cried out
Thousands of words;
Screamed them until they furrowed
In paper, in computer screens
Into the faces of hapless lovers
To no such avail.

At the end of the day, read and know
That my writing is as futile
As loving a dead man,
An errant, wandering heart,
And a depth-less, angry river.

Days of sunshine,
skies of azure
and scents of blooming flowers.

Days of never ending conversations,
careless guffaws
and childlike jests.

Days of heartfelt promises,
unrestrained caresses
and wild beating hearts.


I think I've fallen again...

.

In the blink of an eye of a hurricane,
In the nick of time after time,
In the heat of the night of the living dead,
It is I for whom the bells chime.

In the midnight hour of decision,
In the moonlit sky filled with stars,
I am cut with a scalpel’s precision,
My blood flows, but soon will be scars.

My only friends will betray me,
My own words have a venomous taste,
I can spit at those who would slay me,
For I’ve outrun all the demons I chased.

In the blink of an eye of a needle,
In the nick of time running out,
Perhaps one more time I can wheedle,
The voices within me to shout.
Phil Lindsey 1/8/17

They walked into the crowded room;
Spotlight hot; it made them sweat,
The crowd was cautious, curious,
Yet they had no regret.
For they were open, honest,
Wore their feelings on their sleeve,
And while the world was watching,
Professed what they believe.

We are equal. We are worthy,
Of your tolerance and love,
There is but One should judge us,
They are in Heaven, up above.
Should a God that loves us equally,
Be considered gender queer?
Can future generations
Be rid of prejudice and fear?

We only ask you give us,
A chance, an equal shot.
You will find that we will give you
Everything we’ve got.
We will make a difference in this world,
We will find our place among the rest
Some strive for mediocrity,
We will strive to be the best!
Phil Lindsey 1/9/17