Painted darkness formed
from my attempt at light.
why should I repent?
when I was forever doomed to night.

Oh God! I know I am doomed,
my penance for my destined crime.
no sweet void awaits
those from my ****** line.

Children of the dark unite!
For our final struggle against the light
In the name of the Father
Let us fight our final fight

It was in the war he died
wasn’t it?
The woman, ah my daughter
she says it was just the other day.
I remember those days.

How old is she now?
Eight? Eighteen? Twenty-eight?
Look at the flowers.
I remember the flowers.

Who is this boy with her?
He looks familiar, is he my son?
No, my son died when he was thirty-one.
I remember those days.

Stay for dinner, where’s the rice?
Where’s the water? Where’s the lights?
Do I know you? I can’t recall
I don’t remember anything at all.

I don’t believe in Poetry
In symbols and syntax and art
For a poet’s soul does not strive for punctuation,
for alliterations, and assonance and poetic license
it is not the muses nor the gods who seeps into our words
rhyme does not happen with an intellectual smirk
the romance is real, it is pain that we feel, there is hunger and experience and darkness that lurks
In our hearts… or light, or whimsy and flight or beauty and stars so bright
They blind us with their fantastic light
So I do not believe in poetry, but I believe in poets
And I know them by what they write

There is not one part or two or three that encompasses you
There is no one part that makes you worthy of me
Nor is there any unworthy
You are, and I am, and all of us is
Never doubt that you are my reasons
And never fear my heart won’t be here
For where you are is where I want to be
In your soul, your mind and your body
And where you can be, I want a role
For to be who you need me to be
Is my heart’s greatest goal

there is a tick to the tock
and a great marvel of experience
if we had a day to be who we are
then we could be the way our gods were
we know more than most, but less than all
for what we’ve lost is something we cannot encode
there are an infinity of feelings and an infinity of thoughts
and we’ve lost them to our cruel cold mechanical dictators
we are losing ten steps for every one gained, we are learning
less, being less, loving less, hating less, feelings less
but we will have it all recorded forever
because we’ve taken steps
we are the sum of those
the end of an equation
we are x