We shall go and ride into the snow,
We shall see the rivers flow, they flow thru me!
Take a candle my love,
Take an ax my love,
We shall burn our way thru hearts and chop away above.
Take your coat my dear,
If you intend to get in here...
You see you're not the only one who can't find me.

We shall float downstream in a boat,
We shall charm the Cobra with deceit.
We can try to take the Dragon's gold,
Or we can steal the Cats from our feet.
Take a candle my dear,
You might burn your way in here,
But I doubt the fire will get thru the stone...
Take that ax my child, but you just might drive me wild,
The blood and steel won't let me feel alone...

Many thousands of years it seems,
Has led me not to believe in dreams.
So if you will excuse me now,
I must let Them know somehow,
That They can't get to the stitching from the seam.

Take your coat my love,
But you shouldn't expect too much...
You see you're not the only one who tried to get inside.
Take that ax my dear,
And plant it here.
I know you will be happy to see me gone-
In the long run.
And promise me,
That you will sit,
By
The
Sea...

The whistle blows to sound the charge
and over the top they bustle and barge,
covered from head to toe in mud
and soon tainted with flesh and blood.

Up the ladder with slippery rungs,
a scream of rage from terror filled lungs,
adrenalin coursing through every vein
with the fear of not coming back again.

Knee-deep mud ******* boots from feet,
tangled in barbed wire, feel a blast of heat
as a shell explodes just off to the right,
leaving in its wake such a dreadful sight.

Bullets whining and whizzing by
calling the names of those who must die,
screams for help from men in distress,
their lives torn apart in the horrible mess.

Distant machine-gun fire from a bunker,
shells and grenades exploding like thunder.
Looking for shelter to weather the storm
and praying he won't come to any harm,

a private, no more than twenty years old,
who joined the forces, feeling gallant and bold,
now shaking with shock and confused disbelief,
just stumbling and mumbling in mortified grief.

His heart skips a beat; his eyes open wide,
a smoky shell crater; a place to hide.
He dives down, into the shattered remains
of fathers and sons without any names.

The bile is rising along with his fear
as he senses his breaking point is quite near,
alone in a world of death and destruction,
ducking down and beseeching redemption.

A boom to the left, the ground heaves and shakes
and that final shell is the shock that breaks,
as a scream wells up from deep down inside
that is far too hysterical; too terrified to hide.

Breaking right through the walls within
and carried aloft on cacophonous din,
eyes squeezed shut to block out the sight
as he enters a world of eternal night.

The whistle blows to signal retreat
and men bathed in death are now on their feet,
running and slipping on the lives of their friends,
aware that each heartbeat could yield a dead end.

From the crater he watches with a vacant stare,
he's no longer afraid for he's no longer there.
Snuggling deep into his mother's embrace
as he gazes up into her sweet smiling face.

Curling up into a fetal ball,
he doesn't register the Sergeants call.
He's lifted and carried to be safe from harm,
saved by his friends; his brothers in arms.

*
Written by Darren Scanlon, 6th June 2014.
Revised 23rd July 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

Every "hello" contains
cancerous cells of "goodbye"

Some will never breed well
others will grow to a malignant farewell.

is playing head games with a Buddhist;
making the Buddhist boiling mad;
getting under the Buddhist's skin
until the Buddhist swears like a trucker...
Or you could watch a funny movie.

~                     *         In our hearts there is a lacking
                                       We made these boxes meant for stacking
To build our pyramids right to the top
                                 In hope to fill the hole
                                             But in truth we've no control
       In this stream of life were ascending
                         And we are all just pretending
                              To look full and whole to the rest of the world
       But maybe its just a tax
                         To these lives that where attached
         So that hole will be full
                                      once we've gone
                             Yet still I'm wrapped inside this coil
      That with it brings turmoil
               Though i am still young
                      I feel my soul is old and done
     So with what time i have left
                                              I will sit and take deep breaths
                             And listen gently to the falling rain

Trying to will a new life
is as absurd as reasoning with death,
weighing the heart of beauty
or throwing stones at the moon.
No one is allowed to start over.
Everything is exactly what it is
and nothing is like anything else.
The effort to begin anew
is as hopeless as trying
to erase the stars.
Only keep moving. Wake up,
put your feet on the floor,
take a step, take another.
There is your new life.
Just whatever happens today.
   ~mce

An old man smitten against the odds;
what could be more pathetic?
He knows a lot. He knows better than this.
He has been to war, married, divorced.
He knows all the games from both sides.
He knows she is young, beautiful, far away.
He knows that she chooses whom she wants;
that she runs the game.
He knows he brings nothing to her
but empty hands and a worshipful soul.
He has stayed alive this long
by knowing and covering the odds.
In that, he has always been smart.
Never play the other man's game.
Keep a clear head. Surprise your enemies.
Know when to laugh and walk away.
And yet, he wants nothing more
in the world than a seat at this table
in this most unlikely game.
A chance to win what can't be won.
A chance to have what can't be taken.
One very much last chance.
An old man smitten against the odds;
what could be more pathetic?

  ~mce

six string serenade
she smiled
she played
as her fingers bled

cool blue in shadow
a memory flees
caught sipping China tea
all the way from Spain

if I call
on a phone
hung on a wall
can I call
in all my memories
of tomorrow
. . . collect

(follow anybody , every grain of sand has destiny . . . and a duty . . . every single separate , meaningless , grain . . . of futility)

i constantly think about your well-being
where you are, with whom you are sharing your time
not your romantic companions
but just your companionship

its ******* that i care
you never cared about my feelings
your actions have shouted that in decibels
but i can't shake my desire to care for you

i hate myself for this
because there is nothing i can do
or that i should do
my heart aches again, this time for futility
stupidity
and the inability to love myself more than you

I wait

for the return
of the warm summer breeze
despite feeling winter's kiss -
for all my stars aligned.

I wait

for the bloom
of the lilies
despite the barren land -
for allmy star s aligned.

I wait.



I truly wait.



for the sound
of your footsteps
despite a love long lost and forgotten.


f or al lm ys ta r sal i gne d.







fo ar il m n ts a rlsa lg  yed.















aro  l sf m yl sla rgs a ni ed