Sunday, November 16, 2014

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Daylight savings

Nov. 2, 2014

The cold touches the morning
For the first time since spring,
Coming a full day after a heavy rain
The chill of wet still lingers in me
Even after the streets have dried
And so I stumble into the new day
With an extra hour, limbs stiff
And an acute sense of feeling old,
Each season decreasing
The time left on this mortal coil
And paints my consciousness
With a dim shroud extra daylight
Cannot possibly illuminate,
For a time when what I do
And changing seasons will cease to matter
We bundle up against a chill
For which a coming spring cannot cure
And we prepare for an afterlife
We know nothing about, only guesses,
If only we could turn those clocks back
As easily as we did today, live backwards
The way Merlin reportedly did,
To know the exact measure of our existence
So we might parcel out its pieces better
Letting far less of it go to waste,
I have already outlived most I thought of as dear
The curse that comes with survival, if not old age,
And how lonely it becomes when one
Has seen the last of those who have come before
And have no one left to comfort me
When my time comes.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Free bird

Thursday, November 13, 2014

I hold it up in both my hands
This trembling, feathered creature
I can identify only as a bird
Because it has wings,
Broken wings on which it
Cannot fly away,
But will the moment I mend them,
The way it must
Its soft touch lingering
On the tips of my fingers
And on my lips as I wish it well,
Aching to touch it again,
And again feels its softness
Against my calloused palms,
Feeling its warmth against
My warmth,
It breathing my breath
This precious moment
Caught in an instant
And release, this heart break,
This lasting gift that
Must be given away,
Real and unreal,
Previous, but not possessed,
A dream dreamed
But not forgotten,
A memory so vivid
It always seems real,
My wings broken like its are,
My heart throbbing
With the same need,
My gaze fixed upon it
As it sails into the sky,
A bird with wings
Then just a dot
Against the brightness

And then gone.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Sugar and Salt

Friday, November 07, 2014

When they take you over
It is never for good purpose
An iron fist hidden
In the velvet glove of love
Nor is the salt spread
As sweet as sugar
But rather like Rome did
To Carthage under Manius Manilius
Designed as conquest
And to spoil the landscape
For future growth,
They needing you to need them,
Shackling you with mind-game chains,
Shaping lies into images of truth
Until you can’t tell the difference,
Turning love on its heads
And loved ones into enemies
We are not,
So that you have no one else
to turn to except for them,
no one who can help
when the fish finally shows
from under the glove
and you realize that this is not love
but something mean and evil,
by which time, it is all you have
and cling to it drowning
in Sugar and salt
convinced that
bitter is sweet
until you learn to like it.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

The void inside

Saturday, November 01, 2014

I dress up each time in my mind
A carved out face with fixed smile
I don’t always believe
The sawed teeth of the carving knife
Still evident on each deep slice
A candle lit inside of me
Making my eyes glow
Filling the empty space inside
I hope each time to fill
With something more substantial
To replace the substance removed
Not love or lust, but existence
The day to day of it,
That face that is a real face
The heart that does more than tick
A life that is more than a jack a lantern
Propped up to scare kids
As they come to my door for trick or treat
We living our lives with fixed expressions
Actually believing there is nothing else
When there is always so much more
Out there just beyond our finger tips
Something to fill the void inside