Nov 2017
Into deep depths, dependent on breadth,
redlining death, lingual flexing.
Thread the new lead, fed on white bread,
a pencil pretends it's not vexing
Next thing you know, end of the show,
red curtains flow, script continues.
Wish we could grow, emotions stow,
sadness, the foe, deep within you.
A sin you believed, your conscience relieved,
the consequence, leave all your values.
No time to grieve, train's gonna leave,
could you retrieve it, or shall you?
Wailing below us, the truth hides.
It's not what we think, or believe.
It's not what we see, or think it'll be,
It's not even real, but the light within-
She,
Is a light.
She,
Is an angel
She,
Doesn't fight
She,
remains faithful
We,
aren't alright.
We,
aren't going.
We,
mustn't try,
We,
cannot go where she needs us to be
A drink
The wizened barman pours another drink
The waiting patron grasps and gulps it down
The barman says, "Now what is it you think
you'll find in that brew, but not in this town?"
The drunk says, "Man, you'd laugh if I told you,
The reason I'm so broken down and cold."
Barman says, "Try me, talk until you're blue."
The drunk says, "Have a seat then, first I've told."
The barman takes a seat and he looks on.
The drunkard pauses, sips, and draws a breath.
The barman tilts his head. "Is something gone?"
The drunkard nods, "I caused my own wife's death."
They sit in silence, the barman stands up.
He sits back down and pours himself a cup.
"You aren't the first to come here drowned in blue."
The barman tilts the bottle back upright.
The drunkard shakes his head, "If that were true,
I'd like to meet the ones who share my plight."
The barman says, "Now, I'm the first you told,
but do you think that means you'll tell yet more?"
The barman, seeing sadness, "I won't scold,
but men who share your plight are in a war."
The drunk says, "War? You must elaborate."
The barman laughs, "It's war within themselves."
He glances at the clock, "It's getting late,
last call for liquor." He points to his shelves.
The two men drank until the morning came.
And, left alone, he stroked a picture frame.
redlining death, lingual flexing.
Thread the new lead, fed on white bread,
a pencil pretends it's not vexing
Next thing you know, end of the show,
red curtains flow, script continues.
Wish we could grow, emotions stow,
sadness, the foe, deep within you.
A sin you believed, your conscience relieved,
the consequence, leave all your values.
No time to grieve, train's gonna leave,
could you retrieve it, or shall you?
Wailing below us, the truth hides.
It's not what we think, or believe.
It's not what we see, or think it'll be,
It's not even real, but the light within-
She,
Is a light.
She,
Is an angel
She,
Doesn't fight
She,
remains faithful
We,
aren't alright.
We,
aren't going.
We,
mustn't try,
We,
cannot go where she needs us to be
A drink
The wizened barman pours another drink
The waiting patron grasps and gulps it down
The barman says, "Now what is it you think
you'll find in that brew, but not in this town?"
The drunk says, "Man, you'd laugh if I told you,
The reason I'm so broken down and cold."
Barman says, "Try me, talk until you're blue."
The drunk says, "Have a seat then, first I've told."
The barman takes a seat and he looks on.
The drunkard pauses, sips, and draws a breath.
The barman tilts his head. "Is something gone?"
The drunkard nods, "I caused my own wife's death."
They sit in silence, the barman stands up.
He sits back down and pours himself a cup.
"You aren't the first to come here drowned in blue."
The barman tilts the bottle back upright.
The drunkard shakes his head, "If that were true,
I'd like to meet the ones who share my plight."
The barman says, "Now, I'm the first you told,
but do you think that means you'll tell yet more?"
The barman, seeing sadness, "I won't scold,
but men who share your plight are in a war."
The drunk says, "War? You must elaborate."
The barman laughs, "It's war within themselves."
He glances at the clock, "It's getting late,
last call for liquor." He points to his shelves.
The two men drank until the morning came.
And, left alone, he stroked a picture frame.
