I can't see through your eyes
It's too hard and takes a lifetime anyway
But I read what you must have read
As a child coping and surviving
I can't image how hard it must have been,
Mother stuck with you and that is that
She always said she had her reasons
She tried to explain them to me
The immature never listen anyway.
I think I might understand now, it took me another decade.
What was the value I add, you always asked,
The anthem of the mind only you could hear,
But I heard it too, in song first,
But I heard it too
We live to grow, everyone, together,
In the world you lost your Father
And as to a scared little child of nine
A shadow never quite the friend,
I can feel that fright you must have suffered, sometimes,
I wonder why,
Perhaps you still ask the question for this reason
That you might forget and everything is lost
Your life taken from your hands,
Then come those hungry who cry out for more
Just as she wrote, the anthem of her cold heart

Slowly they count
The hands of time
Gliding without rest
Macbeth he screamed
They are here
A slow and relentless march
tic-tok, tic-tok
Here it is and there it goes
Without applause.
Stand still impervious!
The moments wash over you
Yet still of grit and mud
You are ever a rock, steady.
You close your eyes
As a tear niggles your flush cheek
Life is here and there it goes,
You mind is here and there it goes.
You are but here
Never moving
You are but here
Never moving.

scared
little heart
you fool
in fervor
don't walk away
live, love
all she wants
is you hand
on her hip

I am small
I am worthless

but for my beating heart swell,
I am useless

Not a chance taken
not a hand reached out,
but for the roll of the bones
I am alive here
And perhaps well

I am insignificant in my mind
and I am useless

For in the fire of ambition
People find drive
And perhaps in the arms of retribution
People find action
More so in act of living
People find the need to live,
While I have found none.

I am sitting here, still,
Without a sound
Except the sound of my heart
My body live
Mind still
Fear and other maladies of existence
I am but a man on a beach
A castaway
Food, shelter,
Alone.

in grandiose dreams of building castles that last of sand stone and other things from the dirt, the air is free so I'm told, I should build castles in the air and foundations under them, said of chicanery the old fool by the pond, but none the less it is what it is, imaginary, never materialized, sadness in the face of it, to get out of town starting down a quite calm road that lead nowhere, I walk out to nothing

the slaves mustn't revolt they mustn't think they must be quite and sit still, their arms move and no more hear hear you dunce back to your seat there are lines to scribe and things to quarter back to it back to it worthless meat neeord waits for none

the streets aren't clean, left in this gutter to dream, out at the cars I see the stars and their precise meander oh how I wish I were a star without a care in the world, pun intended hurhur, looking down upon everyone else and going about it, these mechanical birds wound up must be such fun to watch, ****, **** and ****, oh I wish I were a star. I sit here in this filth, putrid, but home, a star I am for myself, shining black gold.

this crippling fear the walls close and so it would seems the madness of it all consuming, for the walls they close and I'm here and nothing is changing, the sun sets and that is that, don't lie down, time to go at it again, happy ******* friday here's a monday for you.

unsuspecting,
another stroll in the park,
happy tottle caper
jump the village wall,
Never be sad little one
your horns will grow
so your life flows

but the day turns
to night this sable dark
you are placed on your sternum
to head an inoculation
comes death, you sleep
not knowing much
but a moments struggle
to live as such.

Tonight I sat by the corner of my room,
Dreaming of nuclear pasta and
Bottles of ultraviolet water.
I was alone, and it was bleak.
Everything around me was lost
In the sadness of everything else
Swallowing everything else.
I sat and wondered about each moment that passed
And how each moment slipped away until the next came afresh, unbound.
But I remembered the one that came before the one next, and that too was bleak.
Bleak, cold, filth, like a grotto filled with rats and dead fish.
The floor creaked as I shivered sitting there,
Life it seemed was given and not had.
I lit candle, for it seemed macabre
And I need that,
It was homage, an appeal.
The shadows about me had flickered as if alive,
A life given.
I remember wishing, wanting to be something.
For the few precious moments that passed it seemed believable.
Betwixt my cold finders and burning wax,
I could feel and light sprung briefly.
The joy was maddening, almost manic.
I had whispered ferverently that I had won,
Ever briefly,
But the voices had come back,
And those moments had passed,
I blew out the candle and wept.