There’s no sense in trying to describe the present
it always runs like dye;
diffused and confused by constant currents
in the river of my mind.
Memory is the ferryman
who laughs beneath his breath
each time I seek him, begging
to take me there and back again.
He smiles like an old adviser
subject to a child king
and picks up his oars, still dripping
from the last time I came knocking.
He never ties his boat
I know why, but he won’t say.
he hopes one day I’ll turn the world
and let the dingy fall away
Like a tired tutor ready
to let his pupil fail
he swings a gaze that navy father
would save for son before setting sail
Do you find the silence clearer?
He pulls us from the pier.
*Because I won’t bring back
every cricket to your ear?
Or does the laughter seem prevailing
when I don’t give you the chance
to collect in such detail
each abundant downward glance?*
My finger starts to tap and
I anchor eyes on opposite shore
and clench a fist into the dye
that hurricanes about the oars
The bank beyond this river
is salt white washed and dry
and shows off only footprints
I dragged out from tides
Its only touched by water
where I choose to tread
and only on these paths
does the river dye it red
I slip into a grin
and Memory sees me smiling
he lets words fall again
with the clatter of iron filings
*And how about the nights?
The inky drinks of smoke?
Don’t you see they make my job
No more than ******* joke?
The less that I can give you
the more you fabricate.
You sedate your days awaking
to make that other shore ornate.
Every day you come to find me
and we cross this boiling stream
to bring you back the torso
of some amputated dreams.
I can’t fill in their limbs
so you take them to your cell
and flesh out puppet wings
to play heaven with your hell.
You coward of a tyrant
I wish you would realize
the bliss that you remember
is just your best told lie.*
Now he leans in close and stops his row
to watch my face unwrap
we drift a muted madman’s pace
till he curls his words into a trap
Before he even spoke
I feared the question mark
*Why do you find the weight
So much lighter in the dark?*
Sometime before we fell
from the river’s mouth to sea
I chewed a knot within my jaw
And squeezed between my teeth
a defeated growl of malice
Just keep rowing
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:45 AM UTC
There’s no sense in trying to describe the present
it always runs like dye;
diffused and confused by constant currents
in the river of my mind.
Memory is the ferryman
who laughs beneath his breath
each time I seek him, begging
to take me there and back again.
He smiles like an old adviser
subject to a child king
and picks up his oars, still dripping
from the last time I came knocking.
He never ties his boat
I know why, but he won’t say.
he hopes one day I’ll turn the world
and let the dingy fall away
Like a tired tutor ready
to let his pupil fail
he swings a gaze that navy father
would save for son before setting sail
Do you find the silence clearer?
He pulls us from the pier.
*Because I won’t bring back
every cricket to your ear?
Or does the laughter seem prevailing
when I don’t give you the chance
to collect in such detail
each abundant downward glance?*
My finger starts to tap and
I anchor eyes on opposite shore
and clench a fist into the dye
that hurricanes about the oars
The bank beyond this river
is salt white washed and dry
and shows off only footprints
I dragged out from tides
Its only touched by water
where I choose to tread
and only on these paths
does the river dye it red
I slip into a grin
and Memory sees me smiling
he lets words fall again
with the clatter of iron filings
*And how about the nights?
The inky drinks of smoke?
Don’t you see they make my job
No more than ******* joke?
The less that I can give you
the more you fabricate.
You sedate your days awaking
to make that other shore ornate.
Every day you come to find me
and we cross this boiling stream
to bring you back the torso
of some amputated dreams.
I can’t fill in their limbs
so you take them to your cell
and flesh out puppet wings
to play heaven with your hell.
You coward of a tyrant
I wish you would realize
the bliss that you remember
is just your best told lie.*
Now he leans in close and stops his row
to watch my face unwrap
we drift a muted madman’s pace
till he curls his words into a trap
Before he even spoke
I feared the question mark
*Why do you find the weight
So much lighter in the dark?*
Sometime before we fell
from the river’s mouth to sea
I chewed a knot within my jaw
And squeezed between my teeth
a defeated growl of malice
Just keep rowing
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