BLACK CAT, BLUE CAR

forever lost in their missed steps, beyond the cracks
steel garbage cans line up along  the blackened street tar
received without reply, for in those times gone unnoticed
two are poised, in it's strangeness; a black cat, blue car

by and by, as time flies to lives unsettled or to pass
this life stands stagnant, unmoved, hot to touch, near and far
anyone who wishes, in a subtle voice, lost among the whispers
unfazed nor rattled,  side step, both; the black cat, blue car

on a city street lives collide anonymous silhouette, the alley
heading anywhere else beyond pavements façade, scarred
close enough to touch, by the ruts, lost in moments, to pass
together they poised, to stare down defiant; a black cat, blue car

By Michael Perry

BEING ALONE
cascading snow; gentle, falls ****** pure
in silence, with no regard to the ground
below, random, already filling in where
no footsteps, before or after go, to lead
elsewhere, another time and space the
winds will whisper, their voiceless voice
muted, with no one here, all unwatched
by anyone, for the naked branches are
poised;  will reach up skyward; as palms
outstretched in readiness for; to ask for
God's grace, having their most humbled
hearts filled, tonight, the  humanity of;
and the waiting begins, only I the one, an
observer of, I see, things seen and unheard.

by Michael Perry

A MOMENTS PEACE

it seemed  to have rained forever, unable to concentrate
I paced back and forth, never without a moments peace
in that constant rat tat tat, that seemed to go on forever
never stopping until-finally this morning, as I
glimpsed the sun, I opened up the window, let the air in
from my vantage, up here, I can see everywhere
as I spy upon the people, who constantly walk below
I see how they go, in their never-ending blend of neutral color
one long continuous line of ants they walk with a precision skill
going to and fro-so the question becomes- who is better off-
as I write for a living, hand to mouth or they; earning a decent living wage
-each day, we cope, go about it, on our own; we both turn a page



By Michael Perry

A PLEA

with so many seemingly
dark filled times ahead, behind
while some days still remain
we will go forward, resilient
knowing  that we must be strong
a little bit longer, until we get there
take a moment, be a child once more
as you did then , look up , search
the night sky, find the brightest star to make
a grown up wish upon, make it a plea that
we will have peace and dignity once and for all

By Michael Perry

ANGUISH

what is left of me, are the pieces
of stilled anguish, unbearable
to the leavings of a gutless wonder

what you have done, can't you see-answer me

I am nothing-no more, like a shell, hollow
my blankness creeps, unable to continue
this deep sense of a careful loss, unable to close

what you have done, can't you see- answer me

the realization, of time and again, as if standing still
knowing no matter how hard I try, always the dead air
now I am, if nothing more, still questionable at most

of the sadness, dense, un-moveable, building up, I ask of it
should I whisper, simply pray, will it matter, into empty spaces
the deepest recess, above my head; in hopes any word of you

-will come to me , that's what you have done

By Michael Perry

EN REGARDANT LE SOLEIL  (watching as the sun)

watching as the sun
begins to set, all of time
comes to an end, at least in the
hours before sunset and dawn
i can still see you, no matter where
i look, from the clouds that pass by
i see something to remind, or the people
that pass me in a crowd, having you as
a frame of  reference, i find myself
wanting to reach for, or call out your name
yet i know its all for not, steadfast, i
watch as the fire place embers begin to
lose their warmth, your  picture poised on
a table by my chair, reflecting in the quiet stillness
i think back to a time when a life, as i knew it
before- would be my constant, remaining steady, uninterrupted

by Michael Perry

WHO DECIDES

it's cold today
as we stand near
the upturned earth creating
the last resting place for him
too young to succumb, his body
could not help itself, so it
succeeded where he failed, taking him
without fight or argument
so we wait here as
the hearse pulls in, followed by
a couple cars with others like us
who cannot believe, we are here like this
saying our good byes
it doesn't seem fair, or real but, who gets to
decide that- obviously it wasn't him, if it was
he would be here too, standing next to us
looking down-instead of up

by Michael Perry

SCENES OF WINTER MORNING

in the morning as
the **** frost lays gathered
crystalline grey white keeping hold
across the landscape for now until
the tepid warmth of day slowly climbs
and like a blanket to be rolled back
another crisp winters day is revealed underneath

by Michael Perry

FAMILY

we come
together
maybe, once, twice, as a family
knowing blood is thicker than water
we tell ourselves, until the moment
someone slips, saying the wrong thing
then it happens, all hell breaks loose
the fists will fly, making like sticks and stones
and no surprise, there will be broken bones

by Michael Perry

WALK AWAY

like a spring snow, passing over our heads, burying us deep
within whose depths, it was hard to see, without knowing
for sure, the feelings we had in mind, precious but hard to keep

here we were, ready to succumb, while seeking so much more
It passed us by time and again, unable to see, what the heart was for

whether right or wrong, both our feelings were ignored, for awhile
tossing them aside, exaggerated, justified, or simply nullified

should I, would she, just walk away this time, for all that we know
or take one step back, to being worthwhile, make a flame grow

should I, will she, could we, just stop, taking a page from fate
reconsidering it all, to make it better, fix it before it breaks
so that we can go forward and move beyond our love stalemate

be it a mistake, misunderstanding, or else the consequence
of a heart, figuring out what it needs, whether fight or flee
left up to happenstance, it never crossed our minds, to walk away

we fought our way back, trying to survive, against the tide
like a sea storm swelling, the ebb and flow, in and out
searching the moon and stars, struggling, till we got it right

now with eyes wide, and our love where it belongs, we know the score,
letting the heavens fully align, to be our guide, from behind closed doors

be it a mistake, misunderstanding, or else the consequence
of a heart, figuring out what it needs, whether fight or flee
left up to happenstance, it never crossed our minds, to walk away

By Michael Perry

A MOMENTS PEACE, A CITY WAKES

before the day starts to unfold, still young
and within a moments peace until then
from my vantage point, up high, the 32nd floor
all the inhabitants below form  a different
kind point of view, heads down, the city wakes
with it's own perspective, the industrious ideas
ready to be made, and so do the pedestrians
they as little ants, cross ready to jay walk- no hesitation
they listen to their own inner voices no one else can hear
just as a  close call comes within inches-a yellow cab
jumps the curb, just missing two or three of the little ants
trying to cross, the cabs headlights trail-zigzag, turn, disappear
wanting to make a statement, made loud and clear
one long lasting horn blast that echoes in and out
of this cavernous canyon, made of cement and steel
all the dreams, the nightmares, the possibilities, ready
to unfold and so it begins, a city hums, it breathes life  


By Michael Perry

FIRE AND ICE
in a series of memories we made; thinking back,  lack of clarity
fore-shadowing our fall, taken in by, inevitablely, left waiting
the writing was on the wall-we never thought through, to place blame
when it came down neither of us really knew how to play the game

we are two elements of fire and ice, within moments of love, we are
ready to blaze on-only to lose our way, sure footing-  hot turning cold
what happened to us baby, what went wrong, still, through
a series of memories recalled; where a touch-once meant so much

if only we allowed our passion to survive into another day
with a burn instead of dying with the cold, if only we had another say
two hearts on trial, guity as charged- a love placed on hold
we are two elements of fire and ice; mistaking something more, exposing it all

we were child-like to wish by chance-in an unlucky happenstance full-on
where elusive stars, shone far away, we hate ourselves for not taking another stance
we are two elements of fire and ice within moments of love-ready to blaze on
to eclipse us both;  as touch falls stone cold,  what happened to us, would we never learn

by Michael Perry

A DIFFERENT KIND OF CHRISTMAS 2020

SOMETHINGS NEVER CHANGE

version 1:

you didn't ask me but i
will tell you anyways, i am
not a big fan of holidays
everyone trying to pull off
a good mood for just one day
seeming to fake their way through it
until next morning, with eyes half open
groggy from too much eggnog, rise and shine
as they wake up on the wrong side of the bed

by Michael Perry

SOMETHINGS HAVE CHANGED
version 2:

it seems every year
except maybe this year
as we all gathered once in person
now it will be on zoom, ready
to laugh and spread good cheer
we wish each other our prayers and more
for the coming year, still let us not
forget the hundred's of thousands of
family members who paid the price and won't

by Michael Perry

ONE THING WILL NEVER CHANGE
version 3:

there was a star, oh how it shined
ready to bring together humanity
huddled in the cold, there was
a humble family, Father, Mother
baby son, who sought their refuge
surrounded by farm animals, and
three visitors bearing gifts, coming
from faraway, they came there to pay
their respects to a little baby whose
life story lives, destined to be foretold

by Michael Perry

IN COMING CRIMSON

without emotion
feelings are numb, unfulfilled
the innocence fades, slowly, ebbing away
as the in coming crimson tide rises, seeming to prevail

By Michael Perry

LUSTRE

You and I
once made a pact - to a love that was new
as the years gathered, so did the silences
as we avoided conversations, to be in the same room
we once did-now not the same as the
golden lustre of youth slowly died, so do we here, surrender
with our hands up, clearly  the stars that night
such a long time ago, did betray, the innocent beginnings
of a love that was never given a life to breathe on it's own

by Michael Perry

HEAD OVER HEART (or vise versa)

to speak of love
it begins with the heart
have no doubt, though
your head will always ask for equal time

listen to all the words
that are coming through
do they ring true, or
fall flat - to give you false hope      

whichever way you want
to believe  know that forever
is on the line
when it comes to head over heart, or vise versa

hold your ground, do not give in
until  you are  convinced, truly
talking it through-a second opinion helps
when it comes to head over heart, or vise versa-listen to both sides
                          
by Michael Perry

SEASONALLY CONFUSED

while November
brings with it
more change, we are at
a point, seasonally confused
for it is sunny and warm
today, as the grass
continues to green
with a possibility of
another mow, still
i can't wrap my head
around the fact that
as the roses continue
to bloom despite
many reasons, why not
they  shouldn't- during
this  time of transitions
even nature seems a
bit confused, of or when
unsure themselves, how to react

by Michael Perry

ABOUT LAST NIGHT

about last night, still dulled, leaving a blur
of the anonymously random, reason unforgiven
that of the two strangers-who met last night-
legs and arms in a tangle, twisted, together
expectations sated-and within the dimmed light
of the early morning- the light peeks through-
from the dark curtains slightly pulled back-to  
reveal what remains of the disregard; all the disorder
that collides within having been sustained- from
the pulled back sheets bunched into a knotted pile; or
the random lip stick stain left on the deflated pillow case
as one reaches for ; onto the sticky vinyl table top, left are
two glasses, still half full, or the random change spilled
haphazard onto the rug, silently;  left there to die a
couple pennies, two nickels and a dime- while the two
nameless strangers gather up, their belongings, they
crisscross the room-absolved of a momentary lapse of guilt
to begin their exit from the room- letting the door slam
shut behind, as the elavator bell rings; it swings from side
to side, the paper customary sign, a reminder to the maid
that the room will need a thorough cleaning, once more

by Michael Perry

CRAZY MAN

I am a crazy man
one who lives to take risks
with each turn, every time
building like a drug, fills me up
to make the adrenalin grow
keep me high, be so powerful
I am able to leap tall buildings
in my reckless abandon, I own my
destiny, for whatever it takes
I can beat you, this-every time
to feel ten feet tall-still, make no
mistake, there is no substitute
until mortality- stares you in the face

By Michael Perry

THREE BROTHERS WITHOUT A BUCK

it was still mostly dark, with a crimson stripe
of the horizon, as my brothers and i trudged
into the thickets, ice snow chunks, crunched
under our boots as we tried to be quiet with every step
we felt our prey was close, a prized buck, we've
been hunting him for years without luck, when we spied
him a few years back and we said with each year
passing maybe this one, man against nature, as we wondered
who would win, yet each year, we came up empty-handed
so this year, we felt like luck was on our side, no reason why
it just was, so as we walked into the woods pushing branches
from this side to that, we pushed on, it was a couple hours now
as the sun fully rose, we still hadn't spotted him, we were
about to give up when my brother up head went shoosh so
we froze, both from the cold and the moment at hand, stock still
when a branch moved, it wasn't a branch,  it was him, the
prized buck slowly moving from side to side, it probably knew we were watching still it played along, none of us breathed except for the condensation  coming from all our all noses, in and out- it became a stand still none of us moved, neither man nor animal- it was a moment or possibly more as we stood that way- when the three of us took a step forward, one of us, which one, stepped on a dead tree branch that went  snap, as the three of us looked at each other in disbelief, not again, the  buck leapt forward over  a dead tree trunk and like that was gone, as we headed back to the car, no one placed blamed, we  were quiet each thinking what story we would use to explain why- as we all wondered to ourselves,  why we do this to ourselves year after year willing to leave our warm beds for  the chance to stand in the freezing cold, we created our
story of an animal made out of folk-lore status that grew from year to year

by Michael Perry

LOVE, SPACE,TIME

no mere words, can ever express
my deepest love, I feel for you
to dream awake thinking of how to-make our love
last forever-only God knows the timeline of
how much time we have together-but if I could
with each little prayer, if he's listening; to possibly grant
and extend our time; beyond the concept of human reality
I would; ready for us-to defy what's known of space and time

By Michael Perry

INTO THE MIRROR

I wanted to beat-the system
to live well-past prime, where age
is a number a relatable, an idea
transformed in flesh, here now
looking into the mirror, this morning
I realize, my face is unrecognizable
appearing aged, drawn- where a spark once
lived-from what I remember- to stare back
this stranger, in my own skin, I don't comprehend
maybe its the lights; or the turn of my head, false hope
as with everything else;  age catches up, time marches on

by Michael Perry

DO YOU HEAR THE QUIET

do you hear the quiet
listen as it calls
the silence reaches far, wide
covering the ground, sky
filling in all the cracks
where there is space
supposed to be, invisible, close, near
here, there you can feel it, looming
in scope, enveloping, whole, as you cast
your eyes across the way, there in the stillness
living arcs of lightening, throb, building
to illuminate, crisscross, with energy contained
drawn by heat, it bears down upon, to feed
the silence, ready to let your mind run wild
as you imagine in your minds eye, the sound of
fury, with a crack and hiss;  unheard, the power
of sound held at bay, in a safe distance, still faraway

by Michael Perry

ANONYMOUS GIRL

to look
into her eyes     I fall, deep, mysterious
like the sky, endless, without fault, guarded
I fall, go; I am swept away, taken by
her forever- Mona Lisa smile, frozen in place
I want to reach out, bring her back to life-make her whole
then
the bus makes a stop, 3rd and Hudson
she steps down onto the pavement, into the
night, the bus lurches forward
in a plume of exhaust from behind; anonymous girl
who was there, now gone;  like a painting on a
museum wall, out of reach for someone like me

By Michael Perry

ETERNAL OPTIMIST

wish it true

make it happen

know that i can  

no doubt about it

will i, for sure, just ask me

yes indeed, i'd be happy

make lemonade from lemons

ever more to be call me,  the eternal optimist

by Michael Perry

LOVE PLAYS A PART

love plays a part
in all of our lives
whether it be
familial, genuine, or the pure
love is stronger than life itself
reaching beyond even death
for more than anything
the human mind cannot comprehend
so as you assuage the pain let it ebb, flow
cry yourself to sleep, when the  tears let up, dry
know that love will be there, to carry on, remain infinite

by Michael Perry

ADDICTION TO

out of an ember
as the day fades into night
made from sparks-
of burning faith  made right
to become flame,    we, in this, our heated exchange
having bodies fleshed out
by the shadows, as we are
****** upon hallowed ground
willing to whisper speak, for in our preemptory prayers
out of the soul searching it demands
we proclaim
this divine intervention, we are consumed,
with hearts exhumed, by these stolen demands, we
take heed, to breathe it; as if our last,
ready to
ignore mind over matter
the body and soul, is overcome, free-fall, letting go
to be-  human after all, within our limited capacity
we will accept true love, unable to explain it , other to say, more than this
the complication of- drove us here; with love like a drug, having no remedy or cure; our addiction to this
is made bigger- than we both could have realized

By Michael Perry

BONE

bits of dust created
formed into bone
of something discarded
unidentifiable, was found
by accident, bleached
and sun dried, walked over
how many times, a piece  
of driftwood to be kicked, or fetched
lost to the ways of nature
claimed as it's prey, devoured
by the weather, with no name
once of flesh and blood- missing
fingers, toes arms
within a heart, once beating
now silent , a final indignity
prepared for a potters grave
tagged-unnamed; case closed

by Michael Perry

OBSESSED

what is it, tell me, as you twist and squirm
on the couch next to me agitated, or something
so tell me-this is not you-as you get up; and i
try to move in closer, and you cross the room
to the fireplace, to stir the dying flame, poking it
and in an instant what should have come alive; died
you are still standing, half in shadow, clearly fussing
and momentarily, i forgot where i was,  in that time
you moved further away, i find it hard to take a breath
you did not notice;  i know whats coming- as i see it
in your eyes; betrayal- giving you away, i feel nothing
i stand up to freshen my drink, stare into the mirror
on the wall, i don't turn back, i walk out of the room
i am like a stone, cold, un-moving not giving you the
benefit to explain- i am no longer obsessed with love

by Michael Perry

CAUGHT UP

I am caught up in the days unraveling, wait; see
not ready to accept, to be left empty, unlovely

counting the miles to go, I am lost; I,  unable to find
my way through, minutes strike down, the hours blind

like grains of sand; to descend, bury me whole; my plea
day for night, to **** over and over, look away from me

there, deep within the image, myself; missing, mirror at my side
with eyes still blue, they say are there, beg to differ; who am I?

lost somewhere else, being the stranger who stares back at me
unable to fight back, or to find, outside image, form of identity

my head down between my knees, nothing more the same
fighting apathy before anger; full of shame, wanting; who to blame

got mystery, of why me? as if every single strand , falls rejected
loose one by one or many; a single brush stroke, to be collected

gathered up, one by one; naivete left on a brush, was meant  
for now I know; I am not like everybody else; different; better

by Michael Perry

IN THE ABSTRACT

you make me feel, have given to me, a happiness
i never realized, before, something felt, i thought i lost
a need to be filled, easily craven, wanting more, of love
which was given freely - made so real, no need
to explain further any more of this, i am ready for
you to lead me  once more, to the fount for a drink
fill my cup, be sustained- as nothing you  or i  will
take from this life, or next  -the question of how or why
as it lives on inside us both-the unquenchable  thirst for love
i found in you-you saved me-  i was taken to the brink-
come to think of it-  the simple fact was- we were
a dream once made of shades; a lost reality found
only in the abstract-before this, now we take care, keep safe
this fragile thing; a love  to be felt, we will claim fully as ours
we give into, a life to be lived, a love given, taken, shared

by Michael Perry

EVERY FALL

every fall, that time for burning leaves
once ignited they will lip and curl up
making little wisps,  charred, they rise far
carried by the shift of wind, each
small ember reminds me of fireflies
as they flit on a sticky July dusk night
now a distant memory, still being it's
late October, ready to  remind, with it's
chill, beginning to insert itself, I rub my
hands once, twice, and the day fades
more quickly now,  trying to get this
chore done, every year the leaves fall
I burn them, and they continue to pile up
a never-ending seasonal curse, what's worse
the cold or the leaves, I race the clock, my mind
wanders  as I watch the remains, using my stick
to disperse what's left of the pile, I make small ones
here, there, when my wife  calls from the open door
releasing welcome warmth, the house beckons me in

by Michael Perry

SUMMER IN THE CITY

**** it's hot- jeez
with no breeze
to speak of-and the windows shut
while every fan's-been seized- in the still-ness
of to breathe, there-down in  the alley-the stagnant
pause to  stay,  still, once twice, albeit one, of the spoiled
few-we are, given in to sanctify thy-self- by the created- get a grip
be  (so) delirious- (we are ) claimed by the almighty-
into seeing visions-boy it's hotter- than hot- so hot-
like an egg
cooked on the grill
of a Chevy 68"
with  a hot engine-and the cool
body-given to this climate- if you can -claim it ; here
(she) comes in with her sauntering approach- well then, where eyes meet eyes
yet no takers; no way-she says- it's too hot- with
her indignant style, not even -for money, pay for my time
and the red dress kills, anyways
and she walks on- into the dark- just an ordinary night
-as it spills out in to the late of  July-full summer sweat
the hot- it's so hot- imprinted on ones brain-no one can forget
does it matter - - as life
comes to a crawl-deep
in the bowels-of the city proper- how come- it's so hot-
no one can sleep -everyone is up- it's sweltering- here
boy is it hot- in a city that never sleeps-either way, regardless  

by Michael Perry

RHAPSODY

love is made tender
like  a rhapsody in spring
gently urging us on

with summer the passion builds
into months that follow
ready to thrive-keeping love alive

into the fall, we will gather up
the years like leaves, collecting memories
and messages of hope

and by the winter time
we will rekindle all we shared, give thanks
and praise for another year, having taken life on
  
By Michael Perry

DAYS ARE

days are
fleeting
one page at a time
they fly
try to catch them
or not, who are we to say
when we
have no control-of where
or how they go
one after the other
left to future's rearranging
of their importance-by date
logged into history's book
where they will remain-
left to others
to agree or not, worthy or infamy

By Michael Perry

MIGRATION

out over the horizon's touch
far beyond any reasonable land-
where the sun meets the sky
is a place that -never had a name
found in the  glistening waters of
the north atlantic sea; ready to shimmer
like mirrored glass; reflecting on the
bodies of the artic tern and the swallow
as they swoop in their migrational
journey back, looking homeward- not
stopping until- as  a pod of humpback whales
follow along- diving and flapping their tails
being the giant masters of hereditary- who
come  back year after year to the place
they've always known- in their constant search
for a shoal of krill-there till, as the sun sets pink
on a month of transitions-soon to be fully realized

by Michael Perry

FOR THE DEAD

willows weep
silent stoic
poised in saintly supplication
bitter surroundings meld
leaving barren crusts of earth exposed
ancient roots bleached white
cling together
as the onslaught of night continues unabated
frost heaves deeply cut
furrow frozen ground,  winds moan
incessantly digress to a Winter's canticle
paying homage to the dead

by Michael Perry
(copyright MOBIUS) 25th edition

from this place of pain, wanting to reach out
the snow falls tonight, looking from the window
into the darkness beyond
     as  it falls
                     falls
                             falls
                                       falls
into tears cold and anonymous to the ground below
                    made of sticks and stones
I am alone       I am hurting         does anyone care     despite this
I am made of steel                    I am better than this, so
           in my momentary bout  of weakness - take notice
    by the morning                  still and all                              I                               ­                             
                                          will
                 ­               OVERCOME      

by Michael Perry

A KITCHEN ROMANCE

spoon loves to fork
fork loves to spoon
knife chimes in-cut it
you crazy kids, go on
and get yourselves a room

By Michael Perry

BEEN THERE (anthem for those feeling love-challenged)

we all tell ourselves
once maybe twice, been there
each time-ready
to take it to the tide, we say
love at first sight, making us two of a kind
out of every bad relationship
we will overcome, love is
like a mystery not defined, our hands to the fire

we say we tried it
as we gaze into a crystal ball
looking for that person, hoping
someone will look back, the point being
we know,  we knew better, still
there will be
no visions of happily ever after

each time it may
feel like a sermon being preached
over and over, we know
the emotion, still
love comes at a cost, hard to hold
out of reach, coming up empty handed

why is it
some of us find it difficult
to overcome the stigma, of being single
when love, comes and goes
playing elusive, with our hearts, still
the battle is hard fought, i understand
been there myself, so persevere
someone is waiting, looking to be found

By Michael Perry

Angel of the Street (Sleeping On Concrete)

out here alone, I became aware of  
my new reality, my home- it  was here, out on the street
like a bad dream, I was awakened
from a troubled sleep, you got down on your knees, next to me

you held out your hand, to this broken man
I did not know you, yet you
accepted me for me, speaking my name

my angel of the street
you saved me with your smile
without any judgement, there on the concrete
told me I was worth saving
taking me into a warm embrace, when
others could not see, you saw me
down here, on the concrete- you were my angel of the street

you were a stranger to me, as you
came out of nowhere, yet you knew my name, how come?
still, I knew not to question your intention, I could feel, they were real

with my whole world
caving in, you told me
I was worth saving, you comforted me with
your simple words that healed, you took my shame away
and just like that
you erased all the hurt in my eyes, simply with
the touch of your hand-and then

you were gone

as I raised myself up
ready for the first time, in a long time

to realize-

I had been visited by an angel-who with a saving grace
-gave me the strength to stand up and carry on


By Michael Perry

LEFT TO THE ELEMENTS

like so many memories
to come and go
the writing was on the wall
to think it through- or place blame
neither one of us knew
how to play the game
we are fire and ice, moments carried away
in times of anger and love, on display
blaze on-or turn cold, whats happened to us?

like in a touch, given, taken
absolved, to be promised
could this passion survive
for another day, in a burn instead
or die out in the cold, if only
we had more of a say, how it should be
we were abandoned, feelings exposed
giving up to faith, to carry on-seize the day
we were left to the elements- discovering love the hard way

by Michael Perry

LEFT MY GUITAR

unable to sleep with the night slowly closing in
I am taken back as I look out a glass windowed pane
feeling so solemn in a vigil anonymous, it begins

needing to coax my mind, I struggle with the strain
looking for inspiration or an intervention, that will light my way
whatever it takes, to make lighting strike, and heal this pain

without the perfect words, I struggle, lost feelings lay there
for I have nothing more to give, what more is there to say
so I, left my guitar sitting silent, un-played, there by the stair  

within a night, under a canvas painted sky littered flecks of gold
I am swept, cold air gripped, standing here to stare, made aware
throughout the heavens, the stars are dotted like fireflies, to behold

ready to come clean, get back from out of this temporary lark
I've reached from deep within finding my way back, my way back
letting my voice rise and speak for itself, and yes, make its mark

In just a few chords, the words gradually flow back into a song
ready to play- my finger tips poised, finally feeling the hum
felt deep within, ain't no surprise, it happens as I begin to strum

picking up from where I left my guitar- having the words to share
blended with perfect harmonies I lacked; with more of me to give
my voice backed up, by heart and soul, I still have living to live

By Michael Perry

ONCE AND FOR ALL

counting the days with the long
and slow, much has come between as we
lead other lives, to this point, meeting again
now under the changed circumstances to
rekindle, what was left- would it still be the
same as before, or has time chastened ours to
nothing more, from a once growing flame, previously
expunged-that followed different paths, to now
how can we be sure, as we share a gaze into each
others eyes, would it  tell us everything, we will
need to know,  as we start over, with an initial embrace
will we still be lovers or just replaying- love's foolish game
somehow wanting to be coaxed again- or will one touch be enough
as our bodies find the confidence, once more, with hands over
our hearts as we confess true love- between us, once and for all

by Michael Perry

HUNTER'S MOON

Hunter's moon
yellow stained hangs suspended
lonely; darkness falls
cursed stars spill out of a blanket of night
still transposed; giving silent creatures their cue
a barn owls somber call quickens as the heart of a
squirrel's tail twitches making way through thickets tumble
nixing escape from perils flight
December's petrified wood leaves nature standing dormant
for a time keeping no secrets tonight
once dawn breaks the morning mist hangs stubborn masking
the forest facade from view

By Michael Perry

MAKE MOUNTAINS MOVE

she walks, making them wait, in heels and hose
for so long she stands under a street lights metallic glow
to give them what they want, as cars pull up slowly
she pauses long enough, for a deep breath, and another show

what happens next, will be up to her
before the future slips away, to take control of her destiny
make mountains move; realize the possibilities

in the shadows, strung out, lost in an absent stare
he comes one step closer, to maybe losing it all
he waits only to score, knowing he lives out there
heading for a dangerous fall, or just another close call

what happens next, will be up to him
before the future slips away, to take control of his destiny
make mountains move; realize the possibilities

unable to sleep, she sits there in the dark
she cries night after night, at the door, she stares
he's still not home, he will be very soon
the children close on her mind, she will endure, bearing all

what happens next, will be up to her
before the future slips away, to take control of her destiny
make mountains move; realize the possibitities

What happens next is anybody's guess

By Michael Perry

EYES OPEN-CLOSED

its the middle of the night
my eyes are open, i fight it
hoping sleep will come, at some point
by then, morning peeks through
as the curtains let through light
another day begins, how do i get
through it all, with my eyes closed

by Michael Perry

FIRST COLD NIGHT

it's the first cold night of the season
are you prepared to fight all reason

as you rub your hands clasped tighter
just above a home-made oil drum fire

you stamp your feet up and down and so it goes
doing what you can to get the feeling back in your toes

still your wearing only a ratty sweatshirt won't fill the bill
as tonight, temperatures in the city will tank and tumble

you will remind, resilient to the core, been so all your life
telling yourself you've been through many seasons like this

ready to show off your independent streak, tamp down fear
as you fight the temptation, your mind is made crystal clear

still, as another brutal season prepares to take it's hold
you will resist once more to come in from out of the cold

by Michael Perry

THE BOYS

boys own this town, as they gather here, use their measured steps
meet at the corner, they own it--hot shots-looking around, ready to
keep their circle tight- tip top-from the looks; up to no good-

in the middle of the day, on a hot summer afternoon
with the agitation level at fever pitch, u don't breathe
for no matter, you can feel it, air, thick, like gun metal grease
the passersby, keep their heads down, walk on, click clack, run

if someone does decide to make a play- will they be prepared?
may be,or not -  give them a reason, just because, it will be quick-
watch- one itchy -trigger fingers it, lovingly-stock still, say the word
- the boys are ferocious- ready, prowling up, down, on the make

eyes are watching, up in their blood adrenalin pumped- fear them
zip zap, narcissistic concrete kings- looking for a fight don't even think
if you do blink- ****** on a zigzag -paranoid-deer in the headlights look
mindful, of the silence; ready set,punt- like a deadly-riff raff; game play

if anyone wants to try- u face an arsenal, of full armed-boys, trigger happy
you have been warned, runners will take on all comers; never the boys fault
they stake claim, come fully stacked-racked- making streets on this side of town

- so if you dare- be a pop, pop, bang- bang-hotshot, u be flippant stare down
the barrel of a gun-piece of cold metal steel, hot tempered, say your prayers- quick-
for if you -  made that fatal mistake-no u-turn, when you go cross their piece of turf

by Michael Perry

COOPER'S HAWK

looking out my window this morning
ready to settle at the table with my
first cup of morning coffee, fixating about
what I had not finished last night, just then
I saw a coopers hawk, small, taut, brown and
white, spotted chest, poised, stone-like
on a fence rail the length of my yard, its
short powerful wings, pliant by it's side
it's hellish yellow eyes, searching for
any signs of; even the subtlest of movement
that otherwise might not have been detected
it didn't take long for what happened next

i watched it all in wonder, forgetting about
the blank pages laid out before me, coming into
view a chipmunk scurried  along the yards
perimeter believing itself discreet hoping it was 
safe hidden beneath the brown decaying leaves
that had settled helter skelter, but the cooper's hawk
assumed otherwise, its plan coming to fruition
with a commanding stealth, razor precision
it rushed the pile of leaves and shot sky ward
just like that, leaving no wake, gone out of sight
before the disturbed leaves had any chance to settle back

by Michael Perry