Yellow coals burn in my ancient fire
Radiating my self into night
For I cometh for no depth
No talisman – slender
I come for the full weight
Of each choice I’ve ever met.
So I’m left here spinning
Middle of the square,
Conscious of my coals
In the hands of each soul
My remission dares to re-enter.
I’m not singing for my lungs
Though they burn with desire,
No, the sweetness has left me hoarse
That burns like whipping dirt
Blowing about this barren desert.
It used to come in fits
Where I’d collapse in imagined euphoria
I had never before experienced.
My dreams lay me still here,
Though I cry out
With the neighbours howling hound,
As singing awaits
Within the embers of my soul
My fire remain unconvinced
That this landscape
Deserves such escape.
I go to bed late and forget to leave the evening candle burning
It sits beside my machete that waits for another attack
That ripped my great grandmother from her life
These Wild Men came, ignoring her fire
Her embers burned yet they stole with little regard
Fair play existed when hands were harder
When banks weren’t lawmakers
Lawless was irrelevant to those who upheld order
Gunslingers or good singers or Moonshiners all made their way
Through the land of hard work, good cooking, and square dances
And my machete sits sharp
Cold is another land I haven’t been to yet
For deep inside burns incessantly
The warmth I can ever get.
I love the truth that cannot help but to escape
Each filling breath that runs inside
Clear as I could dearly hope to be.
And as I step into this new darkened land
I shall remember to bring with me
The burning orb I’ve come to be.
This moon is alive
It howls with coyotes
And burns with fire
It sings through maples
Blowing softly in night air
And it dances beside stars
That wink as they move.
This moon has brilliance
That squeaks through cracks
Carefully laid to catch
Spiders and light.
But this moon speaks not a word
Lays not a sound to an ear
Because it is alive in night’s embrace
Way up high beyond reach
As a symbol to charge
What hasn’t been remembered.
Till you dance upon firelight
Of our burning fire so bright
I will sing my longing song
By dancing flames I watch all night.
Till you walk through the meadow
Of our waving grass so shallow
I will hold my breath for birds
Singing songs of my tomorrow.
Till you hold on to the memory
Of our days we’ve watched the sea
I will comfort in the setting sun
Knowing tomorrow is another story.
I like the silence of closed eyes
In spite roaring flickering lights
And devilish heavy breathing
That’s slowly circling around my ankles
Encrusting scars that stretch towards
Silent darkness I dare not tread on.
No, my silence is juxtaposed with illusions:
Of dancing lovers who call themselves friends,
Of scowling friends who want nothing more
Then to make love all night to my soul.
My silence kisses me softly
When all around roars deafening
In giant gulps of thunder and lightening,
And my eyes they burn with midnight candles
And leave forever lines across my forgotten soul.
I am the will of ancient Rome
I cannot see my moon
I hear warm cackling of great fir
Smouldering as it burns.
Yet my two eyes cannot provide
Clear sight that I dream for
For my device in plain sight
Requires three at its helm.
So I will build layered roads
I will cull the dragon’s neck
I have thunder in my sword
To dig my family’s home.