New Year’s Eve
and the clatter of suitcase handles
defying the quiet car
concerning the woman in the seat beside me
silently screaming
into her teeth.
Pop! Pop! The train is under attack
the assault we fled from our point of origin follows us as
chaos kids chuck
firecrackers on the rails,
new worries, same as old and
further furrowing the silent screamer.
The air is must, jacketed bodies still heaving
from the sprint to catch the train
now sweating in repose and slipping off their winter shells and
no one is comfortable
so you know we must be traveling.
Someone cracks a window to combat the stale air,
sliced bread eaten plain & crumbs crumble the floor
furrowing brows yet further.
We’re all going somewhere
as our minds trace where we’re coming from
collectively and silently screaming
“THIS YEAR WILL BE DIFFERENT”
and most of us now sporting
furrowed brows
as the train pulls us inevitably forward
towards the future.

With old Henry Knox we marched past river and rocks.
Twas 75 and Redcoats had to die.
So over them mountains came my Cannon and I.
The winter set my body to freeze and the cord cut through flesh with ease
As we marched on to Boston.
The rope burns my hands and the ice bites my feet
Frost bit feet and rope burned hand
But when we win, hell, will it be grand.
Them Redcoats thought no threat would e'er come nigh.
But look up high 'cause here come I. With cannon to make the Redcoat die.
With my frost bit feet and my rope burned hand.
And when we take to Boston, hell, but it will be grand.

A chisel and a block of stone
Every blow vibrates to the bone
Sweat stings the eyes
I'll shape this man that I despise.
Each pound a declaration
I won't accept these deprivations
Shards break off and fly
Drawing blood that stains like dye
I'll draw a man out of this stone
As every blow vibrates to the bone.

Listening to the clock on the wall
while memories **** my mind
sending chills across my barbwire
scars

Mocking echos hit the wall of
distaste while feasting still
takes place

Hate is less than here...
it's more about a life wasted
on midnight dreams soaking
on a **** filled bed

A tight grasp around the
the old hags neck keeps
the control in place
...while the gnawing on fingers
chokes the swallow

Conjuring up old shadows
on *** spilled walls
becomes a solo puppet show

Shallow breaths mask
excess flame
While chasing time~

A stroke of lightning
Everything is on fire
What could we have done?

Bombs fall and friends die
On this day, black as the smoke
That now fills the air

That smoke fills the air
The only light we can see
is from burning ships

We will not back down
As dark as the day now looks
Brighter it will be

And so he falls apart.
Cracks at the seams as he tries so desperately to crawl his way out.
There’s no turning back.
He can’t erase what’s already been done.
And the memories chew at every thought.
It’s all he can think about.
Mistakes, betrayal, failures, and all that’s gone wrong.
If by some miracle he takes a step forward,
he somehow always goes two steps back.  
He want to change.
The numb feeling in his soul he can’t take anymore.
And alone he can’t do this.
His heart constantly begging for help.
Perhaps help is out there.
If only he could find her.

I exploded into a terror of destruction when you walked into my life,
but at the same time I fell into the glowing light you shined all around me.
I was failing fast,
about to be completely shattered,
lost in a mess of the grandest kind.
I would have drowned if you hadn't swam in and carried me out.
And though I crashed and burned the only blanket that held my tears,
it was for you.
I know I destroyed what could have been,
I let my darkness get the best of me.
Created a story that tore apart the pages of what was real.
I was running,
loosing fast.
Until something stopped me.
And in a fire burning bright,
I came to.
My eyes opened,
and I could finally see clearly.
I knew what was wrong.
Maybe I could fix it.
I’m not sure,
but I’ll try.

I was tired today.
A long night it was.
He tossed and turned.
I tossed and turned.
The room was hot.
The room was cold.
It seemed the sun rose too soon.

Up the stairs
With Creaky knees.
At least the left hip is not sore yet.
Mind over matter, "Walk. Walk. Walk!"
Commanding myself to Step on the floor surely.
Keep going
Just a few more steps.
Keep it up,"Walk, walk, walk!"
Keep moving hip!
Maybe the pain will go away.

Why am I so sore?
Louis Hayes says,
"Fear of going forward in major decisions.
Nothing to move forward to."
Hum, is this really so?

Yes, I do feel like I am being still.
After all, it doesn't hurt when I am still.
Or does it?

Yet, I keep moving
In spite of my musings.