INDEX
A Smallish Sea
Every day that turns to dark
I ponder life without my one
my one of life and all that is
and all will I wish be that I
can stand or bear to think not dream
a love
a night
a smallish sea on
which I drift a piece of plank
from pirate vessel partly sank
or far above that wooden shard
a fence outside of my front yard
a thought well held then
carelessly misplaced
and you are the
kind who waits
and patiently
will prod
until
I
remember it is you I love
Elizabeth
Who am I, to think she could be mine
this precious gift could surely not be held
by me - one of earthly flaws and simple heart
but as I did believe and felt a hope I saw that I was... right
Alas, as laughter rang about her I knew
the vicious thorns of inequity, the light shone
too bright, much too bright - cast by those
of like blood who saw me not through eyes of
love but eyes of... truth?
And if she should fight off that light
and shade me with her heart
I will forever treasure this fragile gift I hold
so gently - afraid of gripping too tightly and
holding only dust
And if her eyes cannot bear the light
and she finds she must run away
I will forever wait in the darkness that once covered me
and let me have one small moment of
her
FOR MY PARENTS ON THE
35th ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE
MY LOVE FOR YOU IS A SECRET
UNKEPT
WHAT'S NOT SO PUBLIC IS THE RESPECT
AND ADMIRATION I HAVE FOR YOU
BOTH ALL YOU ARE AND ALL YOU DO
NOT JUST FOR ME, BUT OTHERS TOO
AND WHILE YOU GAVE ME LIFE ITSELF
IT'S WHAT YOU'VE TAUGHT ME THAT IS MY WEALTH
NOT BY DEMAND, BUT BY EXAMPLE
YOU'VE SHOWN ME HOW THERE CAN BE AMPLE
REWARDS OF SPIRIT, HEART AND SOUL
OF SACRED TRUTHS AND TARNISHED GOLD
AND AS THE YEARS HAVE TUMBLED BY
IT'S SEEMED SOMEHOW UNFAIR THAT I
SHOULD BE THE ONE WHOSE GAINS ARE HIGH
FROM WHAT YOU'VE SHARED TOGETHER
wistful twisting spines of charred
silicon
spoil the perfectly flawed cage
that sings with wind and pulse
and slowly burning rage
crawling questions seek the truth
as liars build a tawdry mask
to hold a face that glows and shimmers
chrome electric final task
mind of storm shakes plastic voodoo
loose while sinking head erases
everything that he see you do
christ in hollow clown mask faces
tip of wire stings the cortex
spider feeds on simple code
as the wisdom found in nature
starts to crumble then erode
steal the sun with hand impaled
chase the patterns now implied
drink the blood of the machine
at the speed of light you've died
It's a horror show
inside my head
all the walls are painted red
except the ones that hold no hue at all
dragons on a carousel
spinning round and round in hell
holding court inside cathedral hall
a thousand acolytes lay down
and shed their tears for thorn and crown
can it be that they have found a light
what's the color of my scream
can you see inside my dream
is it all a memory of sight
harvester of life am I
kaleidoscope of sinisti
I embrace the theory of the night
I've no fingers and no rings
fallen angel dirty wings
maybe there's too many things
living in my head
frost-laden roses stiffly caress
her face, so simple in expression
mother's milk in hardened breast
and words that seem denied repression
spoken at a gathering of moles
heard by none but nonetheless
repeated with conviction great
as tears are saved in teacups and
displayed, for all who hate
the words that they've been told to love
proof is auctioned off as faith
the buyer finds he's been deceived
human spirit? just a wraith
a shadow smaller than perceived
crying can not make it so
killing only harms it though
a kiss of innocence can give it life
the sound of sin is relative
to what you take and what you give
'tis not the licking but how sharp the knife
for if the man before you was
proud of the work it is he does
his edge will be so clean to make you bleed
but if he spent his ample time
indifferent beds with too much wine
or prayed too often counting on his beads
this instrument of love and speech
that at a whim can curse or teach
will stay a weapon in your simple head
but if you do not use it well
it is but this that I shall tell
it is by that same weapon you'll be led
a simple
traditionary unenchanted tale- or a
momentary lapse in social mask
fragments of incendiary fear and
accusations fly at one who asks
for definition of a life to be
or references of knowledge claimed and told
as obvious to those with ovaries
who transform warm creations into cold
misshapen parodies of all the pure
no more worthy children on the earth
with silenced hearts cursed never to endure
the joy and pain twixt death and holy birth
life that would have been is now erased
this thing you have discarded has a face