The old names that I used to know
Roll out no more, like curtains old
Like a theatre in the lesser days
When more was sung in older ways

As I sit here in the mirror room
With lenses quiet as a tomb
Just to think of names I once had seen
Alive, a thread, in poetry seems

Would'ya close the curtain, lock the doors?
And stoke the candles inside no more?
Because the poets heart is quiet when
He life is brightest in the eyes of men

So be it showmanship deceived
Would you show me the name of a friend indeed?
And I'll read and read until bygone age
Until all the lenses have passed away

And the stars become the only screen
Where the heights of poetry
And the shallow depths of the human soul
Can be ere seen

For as the old names that I used to know
Quietly pass away
Only words remain like fallen snow
In the masterpiece of a city day
About the authors who I never see anymore. About our society which worships media and forgets so quickly about verse and live theatre. About some of you people. My favorites. And about the future when all of this man-made technology comes crashing down. Masterpiece for the theater reference, not for the quality of my tired work.

From my "Almost Asleep" collection.
Fell beings are we
Who delicate our time
Not to those causes which are above us
But to the strength of arms
And the will of the mind
For our own success
Do we see it, whatever IT may be
Though
What small recesses our minds have.
Quietly justifying
The existence of the other
The lines of his jaw
The turn of her hair
But not in hand
For its beneath the surface
Of the conscious mind
That the search began
And there it will end
There it will end
Just beneath the surface things. Next to the shadow, just to the right.
Thoughts which echo
Like the sounds of Ray LaMontagne
Through the somehow and the same
Bounce back and off these northern stars
And slowly fall
Down beneath our feet, this hilly plain
My heart it's like paper.
Seanathon Jul 10
It is the dance before the long dance
With music played for two
With one a mask, and one unmasked
We linger still
Until the truth of the song is renewed
The truth being...that one is not the other.
Seanathon Jul 9
When the sea calms after a storm, it is easier then to see.

But you should never forget what the sea is, what it's meant to be.
It remains. It never really changes.
Seanathon Jul 8
Carve the heart out from its walls
Drain the kindness from its veins
Change absolutely nothing at all
But remove the heart, and baby, it’ll die
Because the heart of that place was everything
Good and wholesome, below the sky
When the good people leave, you'll know, you'll know.

"Look, pain is there in the world, and there's catharsis through that. I feel like there's... a rapture, if we can get through it, if we can confront things." -Derek Cianfrance
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