Have A Good Night

Standard

I gift you this, my inky darkness
Filled the subtle secrets of subconscious murmurings,
A goodnight I give you for day is too bright and hard,
Too honest with its light so I give you night,
Not the cold oppressive black that consumes,
but rather the softness of a mothers kiss or father’s voice
As the bedtime story fades into the harmony of the universe
And snores join crickets in concert.
A good night with the moon hanging heavy like ripe fruit,
or a fair maiden pining for her dark Knight.
Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite
But rather let them dance to the beat of your resting heart
Close your eyes and drift away in the sea of ebony
and let the darkness wash away the struggle of the day.
In the silence that falls only the moment before sleep,
smile and remember to have a good night

Poetry Nowadays

Standard

Pathetic pandering to the same tired people,
Tongue tied they can only snap the same tune.
Clubbed to deaf with cliché, hypnotized blind
They…we are prey and predator, snake swallowing
Gorging on our behinds, entangled in our entrails.
What happened to living words, dancing sparks
the match to set off a forest fire of emotion
Shattering the dam, the walls and washing pain away
Where is the blood caressing pages like ink,
Tracing the cracks in shattered hearts so we can breath.
poetry nowadays needs mouth to mouth resuscitation
So let’s pick up pens, pencils and computer keyboards
Open our spirits and let the soul breath life unto the page

Man’s Search for Meaning

Standard

I am number 119104

Moses told me to stay, his word echoing across centuries

Honor thy father and thy mother, declared the stone words-which,

Eternal; prophesied my long days on earth.

We, humans, departed, carted, from possessions parted

To hell by another name not so sweet, Auschwitz

We were concentrated-crammed into tiny train cars headed to concentration camps

Lined, searched and stripped—then teased and stripped naked,

The only relief the water pouring from the faucets as we stand completely naked

Our friends are smoke, bitter acrid acid smoke floating to the “Heavens,

Smoke is death and death is cigarette smoke floating to the heavens.

We, blank, battered, broken, beaten by baseless banalities-

Life meant nothing, corpses are gory rag dolls unwanted

Dragged bump bumping on the cold earth, earth so cold that we are numb,

Toes blackened, no scream as gangrenous black toes are torn

I am number 119104

 

Human no longer, but masses of bodies clumped nine to a wooden pallet

Shaking in nightmarish throes because it is better to live in a nightmare than wake,

To the living hell, our skeletal bodies clicking and clacking caricatures of death coming closer

Psychics all we could see death, coming closer. Nothing mattered, nothing but preservation

Of self, even biting bloodied lips to hold in bloody laughter as the bloody Capo conjures pathetic poetry

We, baser creatures, dropped into hellish nightmares break, but not all for

Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet-and light shines in the darkness and so fated,

We, cows, cowed by constant callousness head to Dachau aboard a train

Each straining to glimpse a future through small windows, I strain to see my home in flashes

Seeking salvation but the words beat me back and the past is swept away

But we dance, for the train is not headed to slaughter and we will not die today

Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet- light shines in the darkness

 

But even battered, broken, beaten there is still beauty.

For, we said “how beautiful the world could be” when blessed

With a solemn sunset splattering the red blood, blue veins,

 purpled bruises and angry black hate across the skies

like some maddened painter splashed us across the skies.

“How beautiful the world could be…

Be my wife, I remember asking her to be, to say I do,

I due to death but no longer as she rescued me

Giving me life and reason though her life is uncertain

We commune as one and my wife and I are become one

She is my tree of life, giving me the courage to face the world

Like the dying woman smiling silent tears streaming as she goes,

Her only friend her hallucination in which the tree talks

 

Doctors of death, dealing in denial we can’t escape our patients

Patiently planned escape not fated but ended with rotten potatoes

not freedom, but freedom found bound within barbed wire confinement

Suffering acquiring meaning and life becoming purposed, fated

No longer disease wracked suicidal starvation but rather sacrifice,

Bleeding heart no longer numbed but raw, reality rapidly realized

Endless hate in sadistic flesh sacs, demons walking in flesh of capos

Brothers in race but venomous snakes measured against momentary

Kindness in soup from the bottom or saved morsels of bread broken

The very best of us did not survive.

 

 

Then suddenly, Freedom.

Nothing.

Faltering steps through fields of flowers…

Nothing

But slowly we wake wondrously to reality,

The nightmare is over for most,

No more “Soup from the bottom please”

Or “Attention, Attention” and alarms

No more death smoke rising silently

I step, after faltering step

Through a field of flowers and fall.

“I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and he answered me in the freedom of space”

“I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and he answered me in the freedom of space”

“I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and he answered me in the freedom of space”

I am human again.

Subspecies aeternitas.

The future has finally arrived.

 

 

 

 

The Runners (Partner Poem)

Standard

Co-written with hastywords

 

The phantom highways

Stretch before us

High speed, racing towards
A destination we can’t see yetOur feet are weightless,
each step covers miles
and yet we are going nowhere
endlessly running

Weariness threatens us
On our endless destination
Urging each other forward
Holding each other up

We are so real, so poignant
but only paint brushed on canvas
bursting with life and color
an endless moment captured

The earth under our feet
The sky our sunlit canopy
Never a more beautiful picture
Captured, a living symphony

She strokes our surface, lovingly
as she paints our moment, her dream
Her wheelchair creaking softly
as her brush dances
and a tear traces a path
to her smiling lips

 

Quest

Standard

Have you ever just wanted to walk away?

Drop everything, grab a bag and fling yourself into the unknown

Each step carrying you into your future

Each footstep kicking up dust and uncovering your destiny

 

Have you ever stared at the moon 

hanging there like some mystical fruit

ripe and tender and just wanted to pluck it

to reach up into the galaxy and consumed worlds

swallowing entire civilizations

 

Have you ever sat down, closed your eyes and disappeared?

Your body fading as you sink into a different world

a world of fantasy where you understand why you were born

and you are special and your life means something

 

Have you itched to break free of this mold 

and uncover your true self?

Have you longed for freedom until your insides bleed

and you can barely breathe for longing?

Have you started to walk away and then

stopped?

 

The unknown too strong

the bonds too heavy

the burdens too tight

the people too broken

have you tried to fly 

but drowned in excuses?

 

Have you felt so alone in your desire

So broken in your failure

that you sat down and created

a poem

a story

a song

a painting

a dance

a memory

a joke

a moment

art

hoping that somehow by airing out your fears

you will grow wings and fly

when in reality it’s just a mirror

that tells you the fairest in the land is waiting

but you’re too afraid to leave.