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
Sad
Broken Promises
StandardBroken 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
Standard
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.
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