We build towers to touch the sky,
Yet forget the earth beneath our feet, where we lie.
It's not fun to look up and not find stars,
Everyday we go pick up new battles and the wars.
We dig up our own graves and find people to complain,
The balance is off, the peace is hard to reign,
We are powerful, but our energy is misplaced.
We find ways to distract, ways to be dazed,
We were once tall, yet we grew so small.

Love is the ultimate
-we all fall short

that is why we have each other
to help us back to our feet

"Physical matter is music solidified" – Pythagoras

You stand there with that rose in your hair
singing that small song in a big big way
your voice cracks and you stare at the air
while everyone else is thinking, No Way !

You once were a mouse with no door
and your voice was a tiny whimper
Today you sing as if your life is much more
than a mere complicated existence, its much simpler

Your stand there with that rose all askew
thinking your a femme fatale, and by the way,
who asked you ?

I sought to pierce the astral screen
discover things which lay unseen

existence layers to strip and peel
all cosmic secrets to reveal

with book and spell I tore the veil
beheld all things beyond the pale

creatures that rule the land of Leng
ghoul’s midnight feast, the yellow king

fungi that steal and eat men’s minds
horrors made gods that sit enshrined

the gates of mortal souls open wide
to blasphemous things that crawl inside

I descry the future’s dark corridor
where the stars are an endless sepulcher

and now I know my folly’s curse
my reason slips, my thoughts perverse

I must escape and look away
lest in this charnel house I stay

but I cannot stop through act of will
my vision seeks, strains further still

the last recourse causes gorge to rise
I must be free from these hell born eyes

the knife clutched in my shaking hand
I gouge and stab my sight be ******

and for a moment I am free
but then I am brought to my knees

o’ gods of pain and fear abhorred
my sight but clearer than before

all vision now within my mind
I would bless who could make me blind

with eyes which cannot close or hide
forever gazing and open wide

nor even death will seal them shut
on these horrors my soul must glut

my body fades I cannot die
and eternally through madness fly

We met three times
Over fifteen years.
The disagreement paled
In light of his diagnosis.

He unexpectedly appeared
At my door, then stood in my kitchen.
He had a few serious questions
About brotherly affections,
And after spitting into my sink
(the poor man)
He wondered if I thought less of him
For not sending cards at Christmas and birthdays.
Is that what he came to say?

Next was at our last family wedding.
He was still steady on his feet.
We were five Irish lads.
The sisters said he was the handsome one.
He was.
There are six of us posing in this final shot.
He's wearing a Lucille Ball tie,
Losened around his neck,
Yet covering the gill-like scar
Running from lobe to lobe.
His hands are buried deep
In his pants' pockets.
His smile says Good-bye.

I saw him for the last time
A few weeks later,
Standing, bent and coughing
At the intersedtion of the roadway and Nature Trail.
His rib cage raging from contortions.
He waved off an offered ride.
And then he was gone.
It took us years to get here.