Dangling Wires (day 340)

The rain fell and the lady cried
Tomorrows dreams faded away with the sunlight
Opening up new doors to the land beneath
The land beyond the happy thoughts again
Where children sing and dance and laugh
Where horses gallop playfully in the summers heat
Thickets of grass cloud the vision
And the sun sets on a beautiful day

~back to the present~

Desire, long left in the distance beyond
Like the plumage of a peacock
Or the dangling wires splayed out behind the newlyweds car
Crying babies that spit the pacifier
And torn fishnets with bloody knees

Peace, make your entrance to the lovers: stage left
Find the proper Gaussian fit to the troubles on their minds

Lost Souls (day 338)

Lost souls have always played a part in the game
Always there when the going gets tough
Ready to pull back the curtains and release the venom

Lost souls have always had a foot in the door
Ready to jump in, but not quite able to make the commitment
It’s ok, for we all need a push

Lost souls have never fully understood the red button
It’s not literal, silly souls, it’s figurative!
Searching through the maze for another way out

Abandoned on these Streets (day 336)

I have remained the faithful servant to the mother who has never opened her eyes
I have crawled along the floor: dark, cold, and badly infested
I have saught the brother who has never heard my name in his sacred corners
I have wondered the forest looking for life

Only to find what it is that I have so saught has always been here
Always been laid at my feet like the washed windows I’ve never looked through

Where I wandered told me this secret as I gazed upon its growth
The same growth that told me of death; subdued long ago to the circle of life
But abandoned on these streets that I now do roam
I have noticed here a presence I myself have never known

Perhaps in time I shall understand it’s precious stone that glares at me so
Cast deeply in the stone condemned to harbour such ghastly cultures
What shall remain, of the perfect letters that match the coloured walls
Only the servants shall know, and only in time shall they be known

Wasted Skin (day 334)

I wasted my hands on you
Ripping skin back
In heated passion
Closed my eyes
To remember nothing
Soaked my tongue in your essence
To drown away the memories
I’ve wasted to much time
To hate on you
Myself is the enemy of the past
This which I never had
This isn’t sin
In these dark times anymore
This is the market
Of unsung heroes
We won’t remain
The laughing disgrace
The horns shall grow
In him, and shall reign

Purchase Me (day 321)

Forever the long list of needs pulses through the veins of the victims
Struck upside the head with the wand of needs, there is no relent from the victimized dissent
But dizzy, dizzy as it goes shall lead the stray flock to madness
Searching for the illustrious water that eludes even the thriftiest of wanderers
“How dare you try and steal my gems you require for the breath of life,
I have them here to look at and tell me I’m pretty!”
Language invades the concept of thought as it carries slogans
And catch phrases into the night with brand names and price tags stuck nicely upon thy mind

Does the search end in triumph? Does it gratify the seeker?

How dare you pose these stupid, senseless questions forth in a time of such need
You dumbfounded nit worth half his weight in shit!
Do you think you can stop the bubble of growth?
The power of the exponent shall push you aside in unmitigated power!
Animate your mind man! Animate your soul! Find what your worth and spend it hapless
Spend it until your broke, and borrow upon that!
Spend it until the bankers seize up your boat, foreclose your home,
Steal away your children and rape your own wife who sits idly smiling
As your dragged off in chains by the two large men carrying baseball bats and suits
Hand in hand she sits with a new purse and slicked hair
Life is great now, life is all good

West (day 313)

Perhaps there were golden wings that floated by my being
On the day I looked the other way
When the cold shoulders washed away the last glowing embers
Of the landsliding memories

Indeed, without the violet flowers littering these steps
I’d have passed alone long ago
Hand in hand with the deceit of deception fondly
Clearing the way for another

But then again, who sold the calloused palms
Of the unholy man to the corporate man
Who gave the soldiers of misfortune the chance to count on banks
Of unwashed driveways sliding sideways

It wasn’t I. It wasn’t thou who hast led the unmarked graves
Blindly into the horizon, which ironically
Is the same direction of home: West
Perchance you could give a lone man a hitch?

In time that cold shoulder turned my way and lingered
Changed from the years of regret and abuse
Unmarried by chance to the same banks the soldiers do depend
Unobserved by the same furrows that shade my brow

Grasp (day 297)

There is never enough time to grasp what we must in time
For the swallows don’t stay long when wind is on the run
Do we catch the sun’s longest weapon whilst down and blue?
Do we wander aimlessly through the gates unknown?

For much to long there has been an order
Stronger than the great tides of time
Stiffer than the hounds of fate
But I bark out loud against the dead of the night
Fearless, naught, there is no sorrow
There is no lost language, sweeping through the night
Entranced in an unbridled emulation
Of all things that have passed before these eyes asleep

Time follows me slowly forth with it’s mythical whip
Slapping the stare out of my humor
Perhaps then I’ll grasp onto the unknown
As I sit here and twiddle my thumbs

Empty Bottles (day 292)

I have spent the day in a bucket of sorrow
Milking my wounds with spikes in the head
Perhaps the longer I look at my reflection in the mirror
The smaller the glare will be
Would it make sense if I chopped a little off the top?
Then I’d let the steaks burn just a little longer
To sear away the pain left lingering
Like the smell of clothes after a night out
Drops of laughter echo through the closed eyes
Into the open palms of wrinkled skin
Weathered like the sin I ate in my sleep
Like the sin I slept on in the night
When I crashed down, reminiscent of childhood
Riding fast along the single-track trails
Head first over the handlebars into the overgrown grass
Secret steps I’ve tripped over ever time
Empty bottles left behind the bed

Brothers and Sisters (day 288)

We fight for our money
We fight for our bread
We fight for the clothes on our back
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?

We fight for our gold
We fight for our oil
We fight for the car that we drive
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?

We fight for our computers
We fight for our iphones
We fight for the laptop we squander
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?

We fight for our drugs
We fight for our pension
We fight for the crimes we commit
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?

[This poem is dedicated to the brothers and sisters who are effected every day by the terror of what is known as Kony. Please give the Invisible Children a voice.]