You wallow in your soberless prison,
Clouds of misrey surround you like cobwebs in a long forgotton castle,
Your thoughts play the role of Judas better today than they did yesterday,
You try to escape from you self imposed exile like a fly from a spiders web, But you're trapped, like a curious ****** by her first kiss.
The drumroll of battle sounds in your head,
Today, the boot must go on the other foot.
(Breezy)

We own a pond;
mottled bluebottle,
flecked in freckles
when the sunlight
skims the surface
between the moss.

I dip a finger inside
and stir. A nebula
swills, swirling like
a whisk of spilt oil
from a water spot
sometimes found
underneath a car.

My fist plunges in,
embalming a gulp;
moss bandages
around the orb that,
withdrawing in drips,
I see a new world
set alight upon it.

In the midst of my shallow existence, I built a hall.
For you, a perfect storm, to flood it all.

have i ever been the last thing
on anyone's mind
before they rest for the night
anyone, anyone at all?

an angel rushing down in the blushing sky
pushing cotton clouds into my eyes
floating like god with a devilish smile
the dreams of the fiends on the bathroom tile
scatter like roaches in the flash of light
that flickers from the ceiling in my mind
with my head in my hands I sometimes cry
I have looked for myself in the reflection of time
and no one was there so it must have been a sign
a sign for my future and that spark sure shined
I realized that life can not rewind
like a child when he watches his pet dog die
now I am swimming in beautiful grains of sand
watching the sun fly golden across blooming farm land
insects jump from the ground to the palm of my hand
who could pretend to be alone with this many friends?
who could complain of the end when the blame
is on the moment when things begin?
such a fickle life us mirror machines live
we are focused on we do not see
and in that moment we cease to exist
our hearts die in the inevitable turbulence
of grasping at the fireflies of thought our minds invent