Tag Archives: poem

Sleep Now the Orphans

Like laundry hung out on a line
dried out, rained upon and dried again
abandoned long ago
an empty house to look upon
             only a strong gust away.

Weak tears tiptoe through the thick dark
a secret well-kept in the day
             is given freely in the night
where dreams lie like graves
with grotesque things beneath loose dirt
             only a strong gust away.

In this place love is built of bitter things
bonds that will live here until they die here
too fragile to exist beyond these walls
the world we’ve made revels in the broken
             only a strong gust away.

If you’ve nothing left to cry for
you can look out at the stars
clawing through the darkness
with admiration
             only a strong gust away.

Selling Coffins

Someone is always behind the curtain
don’t listen to the lies they might tell you
the roots of words can be twisted askew
but you can of this one thing be certain
someone is there to exploit your burden
to change the dynamics of all you knew
just to find reasons to make you subdue
as if consumed by some violent sermon.
They cannot fight these battles on their own
so of course they beguile us with their charms
with more wealth than we could have ever known
because the best way they can avoid harm
is to offer us an interest free loan
thus consigned in their name to take up arms

The youth – factory farmed
to keep corpses alive
the impoverished deprived

Lives – are always ending
for those we should be spending.

Exultation

A dispute can always be found
between two competing parties
who know the others desire
and will gladly set it on fire
humbled
to see the other on their knees
they return back home and retire
forever in range of the sound
of those who the action inspired

What brings us to this horrid place
where the last bastion of hope dies
on the parched lips of empathy
uttered in the night breathlessly
concessions
like there could be found compromise
between the futile entropy
and the encumbrance of space
to bring light to life desperately

But there can be no forgiveness
between a rock and a hard place
though each needs the other defined
all that is in the self they find
disavowed
seeking another’s warm embrace
the memory of something kind
despite all that has been witnessed
share the loss of a world maligned

Humbled concessions disavowed.

The Bees Knees

With life this good what could remain of our pursuits
All the pretty things one would want are in our reach
all the dreams we had persist while we are awake
we but need to reach up and harvest those sweet fruits
and be given all we ask – no need to beseech
for it has been ordained this is all for our sake.

We need but define those luxuries we desire
and watch them take form in the hands of those who serve
for tasks are sure to be provided to us each
and we must be the beacon to which they aspire;
all get what they deserve.

Though should you find your destiny in jeopardy
do not agonize on thoughts that make us older
your place remains as always one of dominion
that place where the lesser people shall never be
for someone must always be pushing the boulder
to bring life to our valuable opinions.

Find the nearest sturdy back on which to crawl
to carry you to the other end of your dreams
for the world has put you there on their shoulders
and given those below endless reasons to fall
lest all this burst at the seams.

Canvas

Where was this page then
               when all I had was lost
               and I was undefined
in need of exactly this kind of friend?

               Where were you at that time?
           Why be here now when I need you least?

               Will you still be here
           when I need you again?

                      I can feel your fragility

                          I can feel you screaming

Bring two fragile things together and risk breaking

                       The sound is anxious starburst
               beautiful

        Yet so often you long for emptiness

               Void is truth I guess

          How genuine of you to keep me at bay.

The Great Game

The world breathes a strong wind of something fierce
but will pause for swords drawn on the field
weapons desperate to plunge pummel and pierce
to find some foe and through violence have them yield
young souls made to retreat behind their shields
as if they wish to live another day
but such defenses will find their fate sealed
behind doors that cannot save them from the fray
for defense is the way of the prey.
There the aggressor will find victory
as long as they keep the others at bay
The battlefield is no place for chivalry
Chivalry is an intimate exchange
found where old stories are so arranged.

Every soldier who enters the fight
dreams of peace maintained and honor fought for
but rarely thinks of how such fires ignite
or how peace and honor could be found in war.
They believe in points and will settle the score
for king, for country, or for distant lands
all things that have been fought for long before
all things that are forever changing hands,
as stable as the desert’s windswept sands
and as formless as a cloudy night sky
nothing ever as grand as what was planned.
Though such vague ideals have led many to die
there is empathy deep within their fall
for we are all just children grown tall.

Fall

The city stretches for miles
from this height it looks like a destination
not a place,
               not a home
nothing out there is discernable
not in any real sense
               you can make out landmarks
               but not their feelings
               not the nuances of being there.

The wind senses my fear
               rises up in jest
                              pushing me toward the edge
my heart lies there too.
               a battle on two fronts
I exchange my hat for a taste of victory
with the blurred streets below
drawn in vaguely violent impressionism.

I reach out over the edge
               to warn it of the dangers down there,
but it ignores this
               falling,
caught in a mad dance with the wind.

I say nothing,
               but my head is cold.

Ra

There is no such thing as sound
in this cold tranquil place
where light is too busy to stop
and every movement is a drop
that could leave you in space
never again to be found

There is no such thing as sound
but you can feel your heart pound
with every mass ejection
that rushes your direction

In this cold tranquil place
the indiscretion of a star
can easily erase
any dreams you had thus far

Where light is too busy to stop
do not find yourself in its way
for there you can not stay
a storm to a nest in the treetops

And now I am space bound
listening for signs of grace
spinning like a damaged top
where light is too busy to stop.
In this cold tranquil place
there is no such thing as sound.

Talk to Corporate

Discover fear
the pain nearby
a dear friend found
on the ground scrapped;
around here they keep us rapt.

We must be scared
no one cared first
prepared for loss
but not cross then
they toss failure – embrace Zen.

Zen is nothing
anything failed
numbing their mind
concede kindly
or find the exit blindly.

Folly follows
and swallows hope
wallows in shame
but the game stays
proclaimed the winner this day.

Harness the pain
bring to reins fear
and gain their vote;
take this note down –
keynotes are heard in breakdowns.