After years of toil, and digging through the soil,
an old man may still look for purpose,
or just for that one who made him feel,
joyous emotional inspiration.
He may have shuffled his deck;

but the only card she saw was the fool,
he may be an ace of spades, or a king of hearts,
but the only card she saw was the fool.

So he will struggle, onwards to the end,
be it victory,
or history...

I am Emperor. I am Death.

All ye who challenge my reign over kingdom and kin
know not the true consequence of thy sins.
In flesh, I come bearing bountiful wealth and crown;
alas, in decay, I may claim nothing as my own.
Upon white steed I ride, demanding thy reverence,
for no mortal plea may earn my benevolence.
My castle is made of shattered coffins and bone.
The lives I take are etched upon my throne.
I am balance, bringer of law and order supreme,
yet my presence is sought only in screams.

"Our true end hath come!" my countrymen thunder,
"God, please save us! Death shall tear us asunder!"

Wherefore doth thou cry for a holy savior?
Wherefore doth I warrant such behavior?
I was thy maker, thy just and wise king,
I asked for no riches or engraved rings.

I am Emperor, I am Death, and in the very end,
the only true kingdom is made of dead men.

I'm envious of playing cards,
played according to the game,
unashamed for following the rules.
The suites mix seamlessly,
pressed together to make the deck.
When they're drawn up
they're played immediately,
know their fate
when their face meets the light.
Then they lay discarded for awhile,  
before being shuffled up,
and brought back to life.

one by one
each card is dealt to you,
another chance comes your way,
seven new chances lie in your hands.

each card
is full of new hope, opportunity and desires,
you take a close look at them all
with those gleaming eyes.

to you this is nothing but a game
as you feel no shame,
you skip over other’s emotions
and reverse the connections you have made.

you proudly discard them each
one at a time
and pick up more along the way,
before leaving the others behind.

they eventually all are placed in your discard pile
until there is a singular one left,
a single card, she is all that is left,
and you contently call “uno”.

your turn approaches again,
you look down at your final card
with your gazing green eyes,
and you place her too, in the discard pile.

the draw
five cards
three
maybe just the one

i don't flinch
empty cups
nothing new
laughter, empty

paths of green
ivy and oaks
sumac i hear
i listen

sparse in other woods
sparser than here
webs catching passerby
my eyes watch

in the distance i see the melting
heated
a wanderer's corpse floating
swim upstream the message declares

As I listen to Charlie Parker I imagine
                                                  your body pressed against mine
But you're far intangible as the night's sky.

You left no scar but a lump in my throat
                                                 excruciatingly squirming to burst
Into tears and I'll be here awake in the breakfastless morning,
Shooting gazes of rage at the wall as my coffee's brewing.

No fault on both,
Nobody's fault but my foolish heart's.
I dealt the cards and the Joker came out.