Poem: Choices


Howling thoughts in my head

lying awake in my bed

my soul is filled with silent dread

Walking in the night alone

the trees can’t speak but can only moan

it seems the world is stripped to bone

Figures hide behind every door

and seeing kindness is no more

times of love have turned to lore

Where has all the beauty gone

the lovely eve and blazing dawn

humans now are all just pawns

They had the chance to save the earth

to clean their mess and show their worth

and instead of killing choose re-birth

But time slipped on and they lost their way

most figured it would happen on another day

so in the end sweet home was left to pay

***

In my mind I know this is not yet true

yet slight is the chance to make it new

bring back life to this planet blue

As time is running out for you and me

for every animal, bird and tree

It’s all our jobs to set us free

Advertisements

Poem: Sleep Sweet


I love to climb upon my bed and sleep

and place my head upon my pillow deep

My body caught in one place all night

while my crazy thoughts soar off in flight

It’s the place I leave my morbid doubts

and also the endless brain bending shouts

They’re left in a far away place

and are replaced with open space

The space is filled with trips and tales

anything goes that side of the veil

And oh the places that I do go

some I recognize, some I don’t know

But the ones where I have already been

I often end up visiting long dead kin

And passing back through clicks of time

can give moments of the lost sublime

Because mistakes passed by twice

this time can turn out quite nice

And now with the Autumn chill

snuggling under the covers deeper still

Living the the land of dreams

is sometimes better than life it seems

So let me sleep long and sweet

and all those I’ve ever loved this evening meet

 

Impurities


There are some things we have done in our lives that others may never understand.

In a dream last night, a person visited me, someone I spent time with in my past. No-one could understand why I would ever spend time with this person. No amount of explaining would help, in fact, it usually made everything sound more insignificant as though I was making excuses for our friendship.

Some things are best left undefined.

Maybe it takes years for us to understand some of the things we do. They may just feel right at the time, at a certain age or given circumstances. When one tries to corral something out of character, and treat it like an unwanted guest, a crack can form in the every day surface of our armor.

Who are we then really?

These oddities are maybe then part of the schema of life. The little impurities we swallow or wear, (that others can’t bear to endure), but that make us deeper and more magnificent.

So, we learn later, the scars are our beauty and our choices the strength.

And all shall be embraced in the end.

Poem: Madness Approaches


There is an otter swimming in the tub

and chimps that wear evening gloves

Sometimes a little gray mouse

playing  music with her beloved spouse

Or a drowsy dreamy sloth

sipping upside down chicken broth

And the sleepy lion laying near

is too lazy to really fear

While nearby drying with a towel

found in the bathroom is the owl

In every corner of these rooms

birds chat with Vidal Sassoon

On a chair tucked away in the back

some lumbering bear his toupee so black

Little creepy crawly insect things

with ancient writing on their wings

All these creatures just hanging plain as day

looking like they’re here to stay

Maybe it’s all not so bad

the outside world is just as mad

 

 

 

 

Poem: Shot & Other Sadness Thoughts


They are gone

yet we tread on

dead-eyed zombies

feasting upon what they left behind

Their flickering ghosts

flash upon screens

and disappearing voices

echo to screams

yet we watch

holding

their dying dreams

***

I was handed my sadness like a suitcase when they pushed me out the door so long ago. It has been with me since then; something I hold near me as a reminder of the pain. But it is also a gift. A beacon to see pain in all other things. I carry that with me too. So this is why I will never truly feel at peace–not fully. Only tiny bits, at moments here and there. Because what I am meant to carry is a story of sorrow. And this sorrow gathers sadness and pain within it and to hide in the crevices, unreachable, forever.

 

Poem: In Memory Of A Father-In-Law


In the gymnasium

performing the mental exercise of the night

dipping in and out

of sardine-squeezed bystanders

I keep losing you

Cold-shouldered around a corner

like I lost myself when I had you,

why is it all so slippery?

Only pieces–

the catch of fire hair you shed long ago

But now we both have lost

him

And our shared sorrow

brings you

here

as a lamplighter illuminating truth

And even though our bond is broken

a gift is given:

his love for me

uttered from lips I once touched

This sweet small something

settles in

Then you turn from me

and walk back into the crowd