suffer no more

when words
no longer conceal
the acid
bitter
and sad
that are your trinity
unholy
you look way down below
to think
can you do it this time
do you have it
deep down within
to spare you the laughing
open mouths
dismayed
by your cruelty
unkind things you say
arms flailing madly
head starts
to smoke
then spin
like a top
the sun in your eyes
all eyes on you
or so you think
(you always do)
fingers pointing
invisible hands reaching out
to save your children
suffer them no more
and as you seethe
you realize
even in your rage
you have no purpose
you have no reason
no justification
no north
and so there is nothing
in your hands
to offer
other than your hands themselves
around which cuffs
are better suited
needed
to sustain the man
the host of the enmity
the enemy within
to protect them all
suffer them no more
god save them
yes

years ago

she blew
smoke rings
not to dazzle
those gathered there
to worship her exquisite form
over shoulders
of the ones they are with
but just because
she left her cellphone
at home
and felt obliged
to look occupied
aloof
to her solitude
inner turmoil
in some other way
the worshippers preyed
upon her
with eyes
boastful
ridiculous
chatter
like monkeys
high fives
oooh oooh
aaah aaah
ha ha
ho ho
the only things she hears
as she wonders why
she even comes here
year after year
to torture herself
in this way
how the tears have long dried
in the desert of her emptiness
how her fears
have overcome
her essence
like waves over shorelines
ever since
her love died
in this
the very place
she agreed to marry
those years ago.

into the laughing

ha ha ha
comes the voice
from the closet
it isn't pretend
how could it be
cries the boy
he hears it
like he hears
the wind scrape branches against his window
or the sound of footsteps
engulf his shadow
then devour it a little more
everywhere he goes
i am haunted
he screams
why is someone
something
laughing at me
and why is no one here
doing anything to stop it
the noise
the ridicule
the evil
and the fear that ensues
he yells back
into the laughing
finger pointing
his parents to the closet
when he turns
to see
his parents in the closet
laughing
ha ha ha
laughing
at his beliefs
that together
they could ever protect
ever serve
because together
was ever
a myth.

stranger

give it up
in a hammock
close your eyes
the hell with the world....
'til the clouds come rolling in
again
to block the sun;
ruin your moment.
you could have been happy
you could have been beautiful
seventeen again
if only the sun
could be left alone
to steal the day
from today
leave you be....
but it's not the clouds
and the sun
it is you
stranger
so estranged from yourself
that leaves you limp
in a hammock
lifeless
seeking life in reverie.
so this
here ...
the distance
between you
and yourself
is to blame.
still there is nothing
in your blackberry
nothing
in your iphone
nothing
to remind you
of your appointment
so long overdue
with yourself
and your obligations
the ones that really matter;
the ones about which you care
a little less
every day
like passing clouds.
another one goes down
the horizon....

words mean things

get it out
all of it
cough
spit
are you okay?
i don't care
i'm just being polite
for appearances sake.
just because i know
right from wrong
doesn't mean
i buy into choosing right.
when i do
it is only because
i am selfish
and think always
of myself;
what i can gain
by my choices
on those rare occasions
when i actually make choices.
words mean things
and so i bite off the clips
then toss grenades
hoping the shrapnel
of so many words
that mean nothing
may amount to something
not because i care
but because i know
you do
and i kind of figure
i should throw you a bone
every now and then
to get what i want
somewhere down the road.
words mean things
so i despise hearing them
i stare at lips
instead
are you lipless
untrustworthy?
do you speak with your hands
to further obfuscate
meaning?
do you spit
as you speak?
should i mention
you are now
spitting at my face
in your excitement
to get across
your meaningless ideas
through your lipless mouth
giving thanks
to me
for saving you.
should i mention
it was really nothing;
it was really nothing
you wouldn't have done yourself
if the tables were turned?
words mean things
and so i am a liar....

smoke from the chimney

he died today
so he wouldn't die
on your birthday
i know
there was nothing left
for him to say
no deeds
for him to do
it had already been a long while
since conscious thoughts scattered
beyond his grasp
like smoke
from the chimney
to the west wind
but in those last hours
all the people gathered round
to revise their own personal histories
to suit their needs
and wants
to leave their souls in tact
and their conscience clear
someone swears they heard him say
telepathically
i'll die tomorrow
so i won't die
on your birthday
and all the people gathered round
deep in thoughts
consumed with contempt
for all the people gathered round
did nod their approval
for him
the one
about to leave us
like smoke
from the chimney
to the west wind
for him
the kind
the giving
the sacrifice needed
for unmitigated hate
to dominate

the widow's song

through the hole
where his picture hanged
on a crooked nail
she peers
into a void
maybe inches
but maybe a lifetime
she built a life
on appearances
and so there were monuments
plenty of them
maybe memories of places been
but maybe ideals
the way things should have been
the day she realized
she could never have his heart
she bent a man
crooked
the way she hammered a nail
the only way she knew
and so she revered monuments
trinkets
no
not so much for memories
even ideals
but of conquests
exercises of dominion
more bricks in the yellowing wall
of a facade
for show
like a rustic wine cellar
in plastic suburbia
like remanufactured gifts
regifted
and ever so intended
that their worthlessness
cheapness
would be understood
loud and clear
message delivered
message received
she wiggles her butt
as she gargles wine
spits it on to the shag carpet
kicks the dog away with her slipper
sings
"hail to the victors"
as deep as she can go
the only thing
she could think of
patching holes
on a sunday afternoon

saved by the bell

the first time
your breath seizes
skips a measure
the audience gasps
in turn
"could this be the end,
can it really be the end?"
... in every possible way ...
you glimpse an image
dark
like a haunted film
in black and white
raises one arm
opens its mouth
whispers
"enough"
and you just don't know
are you scared
or relieved
so many things left unsaid
undone
is there a bell there
he is ringing
to save you
the beaten boxer
from doing the things
that need to be done
saying what needs to be said
but couldn't
didn't
relieving you
from making choices
really living
or maybe
he is only holding a sign
with your number on it
and it's just random
meaningless
"come on in ...
into the void"
you think you hear him say
or maybe not
maybe it's the medicine
talking again
when you only prayed for silence
for peace
but for the audience
that is gathered here
this day
into night
into the 'morrow
rest assured ...
it is meaningless

the hypocrite

breathe in
then out
again
now cover your eyes
better?
good
now wake up
you were only dreaming
you could ever escape
this building
with but one exit
your name
above your tomb
no matter what you do
or don't
there is a light
at the end of the tunnel
yes
and like an insect
you are drawn to it
like home
after a long trip
safe
the end of running
the silence of screaming
but so too ceases
your hand
in the love you've known
and your hopes
against the bloodrush
of time
and distractions
to make things good
better
a do over
if only you could freeze
time
like a song you knew
pause ...
now breathe in again
come up for air
the world is waiting
people care
you are special
you are valued
loved
but not really....

retro

a candle flickers
in a window
a picture
alive only by your half smile
surrounded by a wreath
like a crown
a memory rises
like smoke
from a cigarette stub
every now and then
when the children stop
yelling
or i find the time
somehow
to trace a life
by numbers
passing out judgments
like bible brochures
to brothers and sisters
but not by birth
the years divided
the thin line
that held us together
in the place of love
pride
and conversation.
slip away
unto the good night
after night
like santa
from a chimney
like love
when love is nothing
more than a word
slip away
like life
oh yes
because you know it doesw
you know it will
and then i will become you
finally
in the end

the drinks are on me

undoes his belt
out flops a belly
soft
like a lazy sunday
full of sweet
nothings
ho ho
bellows the man
in the mirror
that judges
without compassion
at the memory of the man
before the mirror
fat
where ambition used to be
and a red and white suit
sticky
with sweat
and flashbacks
of dreams
and screams of children
that made his day
lying
in a heap
on the floor
like unfinished novels
beside his bed
ho ho holds his liquor
better than ever
a job that pays
on days
of so many smiles
and so many cries
pleasure and pain
he deals in
pleasure and pain
screaming children
stressed mothers
the hot clothes
the sweat
stained beard
the hours waste
like a lifetime,
"hey you,
in the mirror,
the drinks are on me...."

sleepwalking

like a weary trucker
whose eyes weigh heavy
like burdens
on shoulders
i used to sleep
deep
for counting sheep
or so many white lines
spread without end
across the million miles of thoughts
that were never bound
for any destination
at least
nothing in particular
nowhere you could ever know
i used to be so scared
but now i'm not so sure
i used to turn pages of days
the way the sun comes up
then down
up
and down
and on
and on
and now that they are in motion
i can't stop a thing
i roll down the car window
to arm-wrestle the passing wind
as we speed by
meaningless
mile markers
as life speeds by
poke my head out
yell
"world, shut your mouth"
i used to dream
i used to laugh
i used to fight
i used to scream
then laugh
scream
hide
seek
laugh
i used to run
but now
i only exist

beneath the ant colony

on the nightstand
i left
crumbled notes
of ideas
thought before
some day
i'll get around
to rising up
be the man
i always thought i could be
in a vacuum
a place
where time hangs
like icicles
from gutters
it is dark
the trees are bare
and feel their age
every time the wind blows
and i think next time they'll break
not bend
and no one is anywhere near
me in my moment
frozen in time
to stare deeply
down the crack
between the pavement
where my ambitions must lie
because you know
i know
even if i had the time
the frozen moment
in silence
i would still grow sleepy
overwhelmed
and give in to another restless sleep
dreaming of what i would do
if i only had the time
the frozen moment
in silence
to rise up
to what i am
even here
far underground
beneath the ant colony
occupied by ghosts
of ants
frozen in my memories
of the blind imposition of will
to feel anything
yes, that's it
freeze time
to feel anything
all over again
to feel that
to mean it like that....

live like you mean it (epilogue)

here come the waves
in
then out
like breathing
feel a shiver
from your toes
up on through to your head
then fly
live
every part of you
laugh
drink wine
a little more
than before
smile
smell the coffee
every instant
hold the hands
of the ones who love you
still
after all
as sure as the waves
like breaths
roll in
then out
after all
holding hands
over time
like magic
like people in love
who really mean it
day in
then out

every day i chop the wood

every day
i chop the wood
inch a little closer
away from your comfort zone
but closer
yes
you must know that
i am a lumberjack
and i don't care
a butcher
puts food on the table
mouths to feed
provider
for what
i never ask
pat yourself on the back
to box me in
pine
to your world view
the way you must divide
then subdivide
til the numbers add up
you're a fucking genius
a humble one at that
and we are all
just full of shit
flawed
self-important
myopic
you do the math
oh you did
it's all in your numbers
perverse
we all must die
you're a demi-god
oh my god
but me
every day i chop the wood
that my casket might be done
when your math figures
add up to no end
or
you know what i mean
oh casket
of finest oak
see my gravest face
on my way
each and every day
the finest oak
i hope you're happy
now
you wizard
you demi-god
now
that you see me
like noah
so prepared
so resigned
to chop
chop chop
get ready....

he dreamed of the sea

after years
like waves
after waves
the monotony
became seamless
in waves
after years
in years
after waves
thoughts repeating thoughts
conjured years before
like waves
indifferent
insignificant
except to time
sneering
if anything at all
ideas enmeshed
in sand
too many
too much
to know the difference
over time
the ones who ever cared
like the sand
in time
in the wind
was it you
was it her
was it me
in time
perspective became lost
with fault
with blame
as the sun
to the west horizon
love
like a cloud
over water
passing
over time
harder to define
not like hate
the whole wide world
beyond definition
and so retire
to the sea
to watch the waves
after waves
over time
but not really
more like retire
to fall asleep
reading books
to mark time
to bide days
until none remain
until only echoes
of fruitless words
like waste
remain
until friends
and the multitude
of enemies
who were so
only
because you told them so
and the ones you never knew
you really never knew
because nothing
no one
no place
really mattered
save yourself
all get in line
curl up with books
and resign themselves
to waves
endless waves
after waves
over time
like they are
smiling

into the light

breathe in
now
breathe out
it was me
all along
in my place
the love
respect
of a child
sustained so long
until death
shall we part
breathe in
the new life
to give
the only part of you
ever wanted
the burning part of you
reserved
for your elizian fields
impervious to time
immune to the sickening swell
of reality
fields
prosperity
fields of dreams
breathe out
the best part of you
you keep hidden
for yourself
behind closed eyes
under folded arms
on corners of sofas
in living rooms
breathe in
cue the music
the magic
hang on st. christopher
many happy returns
breathe in
again
the moments in between
the suffering
turn red
breathing in
hold
hold
st. christopher
hold
i hold your hand
the only one
keep holding
as we step
together
into the light

hell yeah, we're all going to die!

waiting
for the body
bag
to arrive
like watching
the drip
from a shower
head
fill
a tub
until it runneth over
our heads
until breath
do we part
to reunite
so you'd like to believe
oh
yes
we must believe
we are infinite
for we are
after all
wise men
bearing gifts
called pride
ego
and the joy of knowing
we're better than them
even though we know
the obvious
we are as stars
unto a distance
far as the eyes can see
we are enlightened
we are gorgeous
we are ...
full of shit
of course
as a body
unto a zippered bag
a muffled cry
at the back of a long
dark
alley
as we wait
for a fate
inevitable
and oh
yes
judgemental

every new year

the waves
like years
roll deeper ashore
then recede
like strength
like will
until you must depend
on that which you've sewn
more and more
with every new year
how can a man
take stock over what he's done
for all the holes
every new year
like the last
only more and more
deeper and deeper
the ones cast aside
for all the best intentions
now motionless
in shallow graves
the day logic died
a thousand torturous times
for the sake of the days
became years
like waves
you surrendered autonomy
responsiblity
conviction
unto the ones you thought you loved
the only ones who could ever come close
to loving you
the way you needed to be loved
not love
no
not love
it was convenience
and you said so
love the ones you're with
let the rest
go to fucking hell
it was you
who knew no better
every new year
deeper and deeper
farther and farther away
from the heart
and its slow dance
behind the beat
to the step of a life
lived
in thought
with heart
yes
but at least
with heart

strange fruit

apples
from the tree
outside the gates
of elizium
we bit off less
than we could chew
it meant nothing
real
in a world sheltered
by hands too busy
and tired
to make it real
breathe in
the solution
deeper
the solvent
then rise and shine
a little dimmer
by the hour
by the years
roller skate circles
around
the hot blooded
until the fever slows
you
levels
knocks you down a little further
makes you powerless
lifeless
even
in a heap
like fallen apples
scattered far from trees
still dense
across the fields
lying
like a woman
on a couch
with a migraine
if she is there at all
imagine
a day
your actions
bear fruit