Have A Good Night

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

Broken Promises

Broken promises, like dreams forgotten,

nightmares whispered against sullen silence,

and hopes shattered by lips unbending

are the scars we, bare, bear

The scar-stories that crisscross our bodies

and riddle our psyches with questions,

small fantasies created to cope with the pain

whispered in secret slumber, as our secrets slumber

Each jagged promise a layer of naivety stripped,

naked and raw, as the nature is observed

the story of the self, whored to the masses

in the form of scar stories that darken our eyes

and overshadow our youth with burdens borne

Each broken promise, a burden borne on broken back

Each battered body beckons, begging for blessed rest

But the scars seethe and sorrow for forgotten sanctities

and there is no peace, no, not even in the silence

Toy Boy Soldier

I was young once, just a boy

Running around, playing with my toy

Sword, gun weapon, chasing slaying dragons, laughing

Cootie distressed damsels rescuing

I was toy soldier hero with the power of god in my hands

World creating, adventure making, winter snows and desert sands

Invincible and powerful, I ran, jumped and played

Reckless and heedless, needless warnings by my mother made

I am young still, someone’s son

Running around with my gun

My gun, bomb, grenade weapon slaying damsels crying

For the dragoncontries vying

I am a boy soldier zero hoping to be held in God’s hand

World traversing, bloody sight seeing, heeding demands

Invisible and powerless I run, hoping for one more day before I died

And I can hear my mother say, be careful she cried

But now I am boy soldier toy

Puppet boy wishing he was wood because wood don’t bleed

or hear them plead

Or be shook and puke watching them spill seed to satisfy evil need

But blood flesh boy toy soldier I am, controlled jerky death dance, in Vietnam

Guam, war whore forced and penetrated by ideas

My maiden blood spilled, innocence killed, tangible fears

As the end nears, it becomes clear; I can hear that voice whisper

My dear son, and I am gone

Momma, why do you cry?

Momma, did I die?

Momma, why mama why?

I was just a boy playing with toys

In a war playing with us toy boys

Bleeding, my blood feeding the needing of power

Taste of death in my mouth sour

The world is splattered and showered with my blood

Running rampart red in a flood

Millions of mes buried in millions of seas

Our flesh feeding the trees

And now I say please.

Please tell me why, why I must die.