In my youth
the trees sung to me
their arms reached out kindly;
those giants who shaded me
from the brightness of the world
enabled me to later return
in the entrenched skin of a man
and at breaking day,
repay them harshly.
As the rusted teeth of the saw
bit deep into their bodies
I marveled at how their backs leaned
as they peered into final sky,
seeing only unfeeling blue
and not the caring green heads of neighbor.
My aged hands ached
from the effort and rotted task
and all too late,
did I remember that past smile
as arboretum became mausoleum;
now my gums bled freely
from my own hand's past neglect,
as I struggle to remind myself
that I was once born from the same soil.
There's a joy
in my soul that rings
a halo around Saturn
that blinds all when it is reflected.
I reach for it
long since hidden
something I thought gone
Mourned when it was left behind
When I dig down
catches my eye again
it becomes the tableau
that gives me peace of mind
I know that
night holds a chill
as I remain steadfast in feeling
I understand I'll make it
I KNOW that I will.
I raised my voice today
You only tuned me out again
The pregnancy wasn't planned
But it was a chance to begin
You reached out to me
then knocked me to the floor
at how my body
so willingly accepted the gift of yours
You were scared
And so was I
the choice was ours
and it became our guilt
as the life inside me went away
as day led on to coupled day
the only surprise left
was departed touch
as did our love
until nothing stayed.
TALLY THE MARKS, Copyright © 2020 Andrew Layman, All Rights Reserved.
Let my words burn and catch fire
to better reach you in the high tower
propel callous thinking to new heights
in order to teach the biased few.
Do not roughly misconstrue
the sacred meaning of life
since it is meant to be this
and not made wholly out of that.
We were born in a broke down palace
where purpose is disagreement
and forgiveness in all its charm
has become worth less than a fraction.
Nostalgia is what anchors me
gentle reminders of a more simple life
where the minutes drifted through
and I couldn't process time.
Now, I am overwhelmed
when youth has sheltered me
and blessings were so easily overlooked.
Let us submit to fate
both you and I
we were never meant to live
and never resigned to die.
Our hands crafted to gather
then push far away
all those fragile little things
that raise our emotions high.
To say we truly understand
is to be understated,
and to live on those terms
is bound to be a lie.
AS WE LIVE AND BREATHE, Copyright © 2020
All Rights Reserved.
I am dead
I am not dead enough
Remember me once,
if memory is kind,
your small song bird.
Chorused stories that I once happily sung for you
Filling a house which made it a home
With my echoes of voice
that heightened ceilings, and breached the walls
And you answered back, encouraged me, with silence.
Your form merged into rigid countenance, face hidden behind the folded others.
My song--- was it enough to provide me with your love
Tell me please because I cannot hear you
Soil has no speakers, only the quiet ones with distilled tongues
And life shall be its only witness
Truly my hidden pain was your sordid gain
Has my late dowry increased your love for me
Dusty dollars of faded ghosts that once carried with them, morality
Sadly, there was never enough time, never enough to hold for ourselves
So the time has come for your voice
I’m so afraid of the darkness, my bed is hard and cold, where are all the comforts I once knew
I ask you please, begin--- there can be no shame when I am your only audience
Do not fail, the reach is too great in some other way
Sing me a song father, sing me back to sleep.