Tuesday, July 27, 2010

leaves of preydator

leaves of thought

thoughts of prey/predator

imagining the beginning the end

and some time for an in between.

if i said "i love you" one more time

could we change our minds?

would a difference be made

the second i felt the lonelies

creeping up my back and into

my unsuspecting heart?

swan dive--up and out over the simple

waves. the choice is crucial--

drill for speculations, live in vulnerability,

carpe diem until our diem can no longer carpe

or

swing in that soft hammock that life offered us.

listen closely to the words spoken in our ears,

examine, place time neatly in our pockets.

collect options like figurines on a shelf

fall fall apart

one to two

if only to travel the

road less travelled

and the beaten, reliable

path. oh life, you simple silly life,

how can i be expected to

get you right?

Monday, July 26, 2010

a sense of self

the cold cold metal and the dried blood.
Helps us forget what we could or would
have been.
the songs that wind their way through the
Ancient speakers sing of times we fight
times we cannot admit to them.
the winding music sinks its teeth into our
aching hearts.
The aching times of which we would not speak.
Dearest debtor, you have not paid your rent.
dearest boy, do you have what I had lent?
Time and time with footsteps in her wake--
nothing but fists held in our hands. Nothing
in our hands. to show. nothing to show.
Quiet lands filled with silent whispers.
Silence, then murmurs of what was had.
The bridges she kept moving back.
The dam she loathed and loved away.
Hands on your face, and tears form rivulets
on your angel skin. The whining music bites at our
ears. It holds a mirror. And challenges us. To see
ourselves.
Could you see yourself?
You writhing, mewling, retch?
and you claim to know the good of life.
You claim to know. you said you knew.
You craft the cancer that steals his breath.
You form the sting with the edge of your lips.
You let the siren song burn through his ears..
and the saintly blood
finds it's way back
to the felted earth.

Friday, July 23, 2010

nothing to say, less to rhyme

so close but even farther away.
so far and never closer.
"baby come back!"