Every winter since I was just a boy the noon sun shone upon my bedroom window
As I turned my head away from the wall I noticed that light shone upon the entryway to my bedroom
The red hue cast across the carpet by my curtains fell into the crevices beside my bed
Radiation of day’s star was refracted by my frame
And night time had been vanquished
When each spring’s blossom erupted from beneath the hardened surface
Every breath welled from my lungs into the external world of the elements
Then it was replaced by the invitation to partake
In smells of sweet bread, flowing tears
Girls in dresses dancing, boys aloof
Schemed beyond the pasture fences
Catastrophes were addressed if need be
By silence
By calm
By flowing breezes and gentle consolation
By the wonder and force of spring
Triumphing over winter

Words can be unsaid with contradictions
Actions dismantled by apathy
Torture is a weapon of the timid
****** is a thought that breathes

I held a man’s life in my hand
I looked him in the eyes
I spat on his face and I said
“Stop your god ****** lies”

Pity can’t describe the tone
And black is too bright
A colorless voice filled the room
Smoke circles the dry air

“Thing’s have been done for a reason, commandant,”
Orders and protocol of course,
“People have died by your words, commandant,”
His voice was tired and terse

“Battlefields are full of life, General.
Trees and shrubs and grass.
Once we drive into the city
Asphalt fills the path.
It’s concrete and it’s steel.
It’s muddy bricks and dirt.
Beneath the street lie fault lines
Of lust and greed and hurt.
We can’t abandon principle.
We can’t behave as sheep.
We must **** out all the wolves
And help protect the herd.
We must feed their minds with despair
And wet their mouths with vengeance.”

I received the order.
Pulled the string taut.
No more breathing.
No sound came out.

We left the bag on his head
And dug a shallow grave
We threw his body in the hole
Dropping dirt on top
“Here lies a victim of design,
A person with a name.
He had no reason for which to die.
We killed him just the same.”

They wiped sweat off of their brows
And turned to walk away
The sun shone down upon them all
But I turned the other way

I looked down at the grave below
Then above as if to pray
I cupped my face with my hands
It was a shade darker than grey

No, we shall never live on
Thus, we are not crazy
Posthumously stated
Although, not so lately

Words quoted by those
Who ignore the past
Lines from prose
Which ignore final acts

“It’s bombardment
Contamination
Shallow, impromptu
Callous and sad”
So dismayed
Are the critics
At what they can’t have

Without a spotlight on them
Without a solemn reprisal
They tediously sip coffee
And watch in denial

“It will never work, it just mustn’t”
“It can’t be done, for it wasn’t”
Oh, I’m tired of these children
Their fathers and moms
I’m sick of this museum
Now then, let’s all carry on

Tireless hours fleeting away with more vigor now than before
Tedium, wallowing helplessly, while I use my pick and keep digging
I’m digging to find the hidden agenda, the reason for me to survive
I’m digging to bury my past incarnation, I’m digging to conceal my life
My actions don’t follow me, they’ve blocked off the exit from the mine
And the shafts that hold the lumbering earth at bay seem indifferent
My self is the true menace
It despises my flesh and recants my existence
It lunges at me in the darkness, striking at me with its claws
My eyes glow ice blue in the reflection when I see him
And I tepidly back into the wall
As clods first break off and larger chunks follow
The grey skin of my self shimmers and the beast broadens its shoulders
He pounces as the ground crashes in all around us
My death is his beginning

Battered, abused, some say
Forgotten, if e’er discovered
Alone, a knot of fleshy skin
Together, lips of lovers

Days slowly become years as we wander further
Down the path toward the water
The banks engulf us and carry us into
The shallow depths
We cannot know what is below the surface until
We plunge our fingers into the sand and watch the sand
Drift slowly downstream
Life in this way carries on to the next place of settlement
To the next area of contentment
Where the soul will linger inside the banks and
Carry one more body into the water
Where it will discover the sand and it will
Plunge its fingers into the deep

The moments are passing me by now
In the same fashion a hummingbird passes each flower
Until it reaches the one with the sweetest nectar
I am the flower, the days are the hummingbirds
I cannot stop time anymore
Than the clouds can cease to collect above our heads
Then downpour upon us
It is in this way that life is beyond our reach
Because just as the clouds appear solid
So too do our lives appear solid
So too does it seem that we can grasp something
That is innately us although
It is always beyond our reach