Tentacles twist breaking bow and mast.
Clinging and clinching to the once mighty vessel.
A ship once prized by the Navy
Now prized as a partner for the sea beast.
Each serpentine tentacle tightens,
Around wooden board, and cast iron fastener.
Creaking and cracking the boat dances as the beast leads.
Waves crazed as they are whipped to frenzy,
Matching the mammoth's rhythms.
They struggle to keep the beast contained.
White caps covering the beasts murderous desire.
The ship is his, and as dances do,
This one ends in a flourish.
Cracking crosstrees and foremast,
Collapsing the gangways,
Sails still whipping as the dancer's dress is ravaged.
And as quickly as it began
It stops.
The monster sinks back from where his strike began.
The tired vessel following quickly after.
The water forgets its rhythm and steps.

I feel my head exploding,
splitting really,
into a thousand clouds of
silver.
An uncharted breakdown
that is so very familiar.
People should be held accountable for
the actions of others.
The pressure lessens its grip on
my spinal cord.
The musical adaptation of my life
blossoms before my very eyes.
Seen through a dream catcher
that is broken with
nightmares of fallen ancestors.
Please,
forgive me for rambling.
Words are hypnotic and
let me forget about
the ringing in my head.
A thousand decibels of silence,
shattered.
They are forgotten by society.
Forced to live in gangways with cockroaches and
the pages of old leather bound books.
They leave on
a wing and
a prayer.
Bathed in dust and dirt,
they hear the barking of the pitbull
inside my head.
Brought down by the blade.
I once observed a church being boarded up,
blocking out the elements and homeless.
It was calming.
Does that make me a horrible person?
Eerily beautiful.
I wish I could go back to that moment in time,
frozen in place.
My head explodes.
Can you hear the bell tower ringing Quasimodo?
Chimes louder than a bomb,
falling through the rotted out wood.
It's for the best.
The Horseman didn't need a head.
The silence will bring me back.
Remember,
our actions now
are our actions now.
Ring the bell!

I wait for you
In still coffee nights of wonder
In early morning bursts of perspective
In half naked mornings and silent torture
Which are not mutually exclusive.

I still wait for you
Among the faces, in between streaking strips of asphalt and concrete
Among the entropy, in dark gangways of nervousness and catharsis
Among the noise, in impulsive shortcuts and Jack's Mannequin
Which my muddy shoes do not like very much.

I still wait for you
Through the fuzzy vision of late night, walking on existentialist angst, struggling to find the meaning of suffering and life
Through the haze of alcoholic pain, stumbling across residual memories, pleading that all the 3 AM visions would stop
Through the nicotine fog, falling away from depressive reality, building a method heavily dependent on addictive escapist solutions
Which reduces my life span short enough,

To stop waiting for you.

I know you're worried bout your family name
and I understand I do
But will the name give consolation
to a life lived not for you?

Will they thank you for your misery
and the sacrifice you make
Will the name still give you comfort
when at night you lie awake

I never planned for this happen
truth is it took my by surprise
And now my love I'm petrified
that no more I'll see your eyes

For they will look up at another
someone else will you call Dear
all the time remembering
the days that we spent here

Do not tell me if you love me
or if your hearts like mine, unlocked
Simply come down to the harbour
board the steamer where she's docked

She sails upon the evening tide
gangways up at seven
If your hearts to run away with mine
come to cabin two eleven

And if duty is to keep you here
and you choose to play a part
remember there's always a place
for you inside my heart.

There has been
oppression
further back than
ball and chain gangways
in droves
as doves flew freely before them.

All the way
up until today,
when anonymity is entitled
to the one who
delivers this deadly recoil.

Think not in terms
of tones
bestowed upon us.

Some of us welcome it.
Regardless,
it is.

The most ****** up thing
before the trigger releases rounds
into your intentions to be
is the thought:
"She is this,"
as you take.

Us and Them
make us black and white
with the same hot, red blood spilling on the concrete.

A film celebrating
The greatness of a Nation
Patriotism its theme
Sacrifice its Core

A Cinema hall
Name translates as Gift
The hall playing the film
Would soon become a Coffin

Lives of many
Ended before they started
Kids on the aisles
Engulfed by the flames

Arrogance of power
That money can buy
Negligence of repair
Transformers unleashed their power

Smoke spreading across
Car parks and gates
Fire  keeping it's date
In all its rage

Hell brakes loose
All for a fuse
Stairwell and Ariel
Sounded the deathknell

Running towards the exit
Emergency lights not fixed
Chaos and confusion
People already dying of asphyxiation

Fire alarm not installed
Authorities knew it all
Even the Projection not stalled
Seating arrangements breaking the law

Box seats gates closed
Exit gates bolted
A careless employee
Took a break by bolting the middle gate

Deviations and violations
Fire service delayed
Gangways failed to accommodate
Balcony seemed far away

Exposed to carbon monoxide
Succumbed and died
Toll stood at 59
Injured crossed a hundred

A full house
Turned many into empty homes
Tragedy cover up with travesty
Ticket price  not just a life

Friday the 13 th
7 th month of 1997
Set the record for the ticket prize
A life for a seat