heads will roll 

you will be remembered

she yawned
then fell from grace
invited him in
or let him take her
for granted
she can't remember which
only the colors
of the world her father showed her
in stories
and by example
had now lost their definition
and in black and white
instead
up jumped the devil
to prod her
to sneer
to tell his friends
she didn't even know
and it mattered
to her daddy
and it matters now
so far away from grace
and the light
dimmed by neglect
batteries on the cheap
a life with no meaning
who will be the one
to catch her fall
to brace the wheel north
now that her dad is dead
now that she drinks
shame
to oblivion
to forget
what she remembers
to forget
she is only biding her time
an accidental protagonist
for tall tales
of conquests
treasures won and lost
by boys
with little dicks

wishful thinking

what makes a man
hover
above another
omniscient
indifferent
like high trees
to spring breeze
like days
in time
most men drink
to belly laugh away
the rage
and if they are so endowed
to think
drink
to obliterate
having to think
most men eat
in cars
biscuits
cheese brats
gravy stains
on sleeves like napkins
but still think
if they can
they haven't changed
forty pounds later
and their brows were lower
but ideals greater
and there once was a dream
way back when
a pony tail
on a balding head
would have made them
belly laugh away
the surrender of men
to all things
obscene
way back when
there was a vision
just enough
so maybe they could get lucky
get friends
get married
get kids
watch the rage
intoxicate a room
like changing tv channels
late at night
go blind
neighbors know
a sucker to the television
to living
feel the rage
kill
what ever made the man
think he could
hover
above another
in the first place

away from you

been trying
to find a song
to tell you
what i can't tell you
because i die
a little more
every time i try
to conjure a song
by my own pen
by my own heart
and god knows i've tried
die
a little more
for the sake of a song
for the sake of a song
to tell you
i'm sorry
but i've just got to go
pack my bags
i'm leaving here
get away from you
and days like these
to skip stones in a pond
kick cans down sewer grates
think about thinking
of nothing at all
meet people
who could never hold a candle
to you
who just shit when they talk
but these are my people
my level
my place
down on their luck
down in the gutters
of a tin pan alley
in a ghetto
down below the shoes
of people like you
your pretty eyes
beauty
lucid thoughts
laundry lists of accomplishments
stop
dragging you down
to my level
to my place
down in the heart
of the stench
of the defeated
been trying
to find a song
so honest
so frank
so woefully me
but i can't

shine

son
is shining
robins fly by
high
in the sky
other ones singing
your song
from the great tree
over the wooden porch
me in my chair
fresh coffee
and spring breezes
away the world
beyond my senses
and the dizzying heights
of aspirations harbored
back to my boyhood
back to days
spent dreaming of you
dreaming of this moment
back to days
when the space between
dreams and what is real
was but a stone's throw away
a hop skip and a jump
over a puddle
and now i rock
roll
in this chair
seen a little bit
of this cold world
enough to know the difference
hear the music of life
so easy on ears
that no longer wish
to serve as bookends
on opposite sides
of eyes looking backward
of a house of memories
for my son
shines
my son
shines
from east to west
coast to coast
yesterday to tomorrow
and so we shine
all together

this hollow

you are a stick
broken
beneath the heft
of feet incapable
of treading softly
a sleeping baby
awakened
by a mother's whimper
bellowed by the world
to come out in screams
delirious
you are a bird
fallen
by a sling shot
a crime story
in which the killer
remains unnamed
mysterious
like a tear
whose identity is lost
in a river
that swells
then floods
tangible ties to the past
a candle
whose flame
takes the blame
for a fire
that eradicates a forest
and leaves us gasping
in the wake
of complete devastation
lost
abandoned ghosts
of smiles worn
too many yesterdays ago
lost
amidst the vague conception
of all that is lost
holding onto nothing
but a broken compass
and a star
by which to sail
this hollow
this barren
and yet
in spite of everything
i know i need you
infinitely
more than you need me

spirit 

Gabriel Victor Regelbrugge ... 29/4/05 7lbs 11oz 221/2 in 

oh boy ... welcome Gabriel Victor