one more

one more cigarette
one more postponement
of acceptance
this isn't
how you ever thought
it would work out
the chorus of existence
faithlessly praying
for change



in autumn when the awards were dispelled
he prayed in the basement
to his bodhisattva
drinking coffee
dashing against depression
his desperation to dream
dreams of driving home to his father
through fires in the forest
true freedom to come from ghosts
goodbye my grief
all my heroes have insomnia
to live and love under moon til morning
mortality transfixed to the muse
music gods and nature dance through night
while pain is trapped in photography
and poetry rains a red blood street
go now to the mill
say farewell to relationships
the separation that had to come
sleep now my son in stillness
be a stranger to surgery
your minds survival is in the trees
and when it's time trust your wine
and unleash your words

image: http://www.flickr.com/x/t/0095009/photos/fotoshock/5337002027/


a soul unfinished

a pipe before bed
his soul born old
musing on the muse
and the smile she inspires
the literal joy she brings
on tie died wings
yet the smile a secret keeps
night drawn long he sits alone
the fire wanes
moon peeking through elder trees
he climbs into the wooden cave
sharing the sky by divided night
spirit damp she makes it bright
and yet together they may not be
and so his soul would not be right


poison wine

staring at the bottle on the shelf
contemplating opening for the sake of feeling
it calls, entices
fingers trace the gentle curves
afraid to release the intoxicating scent
to drink to hide or to release
words creeping closer to the surface
lingering on the choice already made
glasses left on the shelf
bottle taken straight to mouth
the crimson dribbles past the corner of a smirk
poison or divine unknown
can never escape her
feelings consume consummate
there is no hiding
an error to imbibe
ponder how to purge
the wine warming your veins
but a part never wants it to end
the warmth the numbness
the room spinning
the spinning thoughts cannot be purged
the bottle overturned to suckle each and every drop
parched at the wellspring of despair
panic when there are no drops left



for decades the words have got me through
catharsis through ink or type
until now
no words come close to describe the depth of darkness
no eloquence to trap the despair within a page
to make it mine and move beyond
the golden noose binds no more
i cry for the children
punished in their innocence
for what was never meant to be



shivering on cold sheets
the winter wind
or the ache within
the space beside him empty
she warns him of the fire
consuming as it rips
through the brush
he'd welcome that death
with a kiss
if for but a moment
the cold would abate
emptiness overwhelms
no tears left to run
how can this be what
was meant to be

five five

grey sky brushed
bloated with rain
wood slat fence
before my face
unfinished pine
beneath my back
my birthday
buried alive
i wonder if
based on the occasion
you could forgive me
for saying i love you