Saturday, November 27, 2010

So I’ll Sit


So I’ll sit,
and watch the sun rise
again…
alone again,
and it won’t matter
if its optimistic face smiles,
it doesn’t matter.
It won’t bother me,
if that companioned champion star
stands out at all…
it doesn’t bother me.
I’m almost convinced,
it’ll ascend once again.
For someone else,
maybe,
but,
one morning,
its crown will glare for it’s last time,
and I don't care.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Flashing Scene


The cold harsh light of people’s stares, cause the brim of my hat to be lowered and my steps to move backwards, silently into the sinister background of night. The bulbs burst onto a flashing scene, mocking friends that pester me. In the shadows, that are now my ally, I watch, and I avoid to be seen as I recollect how I got here.
With a deliberate slow flowed step, I blended with the blistering gloom to follow a couple to be hunted. Down a narrow park path, a scarcely lit way, I stalked behind, watching the lovers from a stance a few yards away. When my heartached-instincts and jealous rage cohere they deceived my idle hand, “I cannot help but follow thy command.”
Leaving the lazy lamp lit lane for dim pastures, the hand-held lovers, strayed from the safety of the gravely trail. In my uncomfortable bleakness, these unknowingly lustful kissers fell into; an uncomfortable position to be stuck, with love and passion in the limbs of the night; but to pick a path such as mine to cross. “What better way to drop victim of the frozen hand of death than in the fiery arms of your love,” I voiced to myself in a misty breath.
A stones throw from my feet they took a seat, as I produced a silent cannon with a barrel as dark as the eyes I preyed with. Using a quiet sneak I placed my leather boot across the unsuspecting fool’s cheek. The crimson glimmered in the moonlight as I dropped the barrel in the breathless woman’s mouth muffling her hesitated scream instantly. While he squirmed in a cowardly way, I clicked a thick noise cocking the pistol’s hammer, nailing him to his footprints. I whispered, “You flee from your lover like no heart was ever involved, you take for granted the touch I’ve missed for so long.” I flicked my free wrist in a downward manner and he replied aptly, with a knee-bent stance he slumped to the ground. I instructed him to crawl and lie next to his terrified prize. “Kiss her,” I insisted. His face answered with surprise. “Place your lips upon hers and remain.” Puzzled their stares became and with a repeat of the verse in a more thunderous tone they complied.
With lips pressed, lying breast to breast, I laid the firearm to the back of his head. The look in her upward glancing tearfilled eyes was almost human, a look that seemed to ask me a question, “Why would you end us like this?” So I replied the inquiry loudly and directly to the open air, “If I were ever to be forced to meet my finish there is no other place I would rather be, than in the arms of someone who loved me.” Her fingers dug through his shirt and clutched tighter than their lips kissed, and tighter than the tears that streamed down her face. “I’ll give you to the night,” the last words heard. With a slight squeeze, a recoil kick, and a soundless boom, I placed round from back of his head and on through the back of hers, drilling a hot shell into dirt; I let them spend the remaining seconds in appreciation of a shared heart. Quickly, I disappeared into the frosty dark to avoid a flashing scene.

Arizona Sun


Did I dream
you were a tourist
in the Arizona sun?

Was it for that,
I thought we had a date
in two years time?

Was I awake
When the earthquake
rose up around me?

Did I fall asleep
As the sunlight died,
tired of waiting?

Saturday, November 20, 2010

My Old Room


If life doesn’t pick up soon,
I’m going back to clean my old room.
Where my parents can point out my many missteps.

The army ants,
fighting a never-ending battle, on my television set,
buzz, “Its time to move on out.”

Sometime ‘round noon,
as soon as I’m finally in the mood,
I’ll leave that pale space
for a nice calm spot;
Where I can warmly sit next to a fume-painted fireplace.

Once it has no more info to spit
I’ll make my way to a hollow basement of my subsistence.

Maybe later that day,
when everything’s ghost grey,
I’ll take on the labor costs of my misfortunes
and pay my hand drop
on top of my black cat,
purring her to bed.

When the night finally falls,
No one hears me at all.
I’ll count the herd to sleep,
thinking how tomorrow will carry me home.
Where I expect for impetus subsist to glisten,
even in the smallest shimmer, so my snores can echo in halls.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Small Town


Small town people in their small town ways
Small town thoughts in their small town days

Small town ideas and small town dreams
Small town jobs in their small town extremes

Small town parades and small town cheers
Small town lives and their small town fears

Small town squares and small town blocks
Small town minds in their small town box

Small town talk and small town prayers
Small town beliefs with small town cares

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Dust


Against belief, I have not turned to dust,
Not yet.
Those lies are a bust
Nothing but a threat.

It’s not just,
But that’s why it rains,
It’s why hearts rust,
It’s why hearts strain.
There’s little that can be done for lust.
Try as you might,
Run if you must,
Move away, or take flight.

It’s that yearning that makes decisions thrust,
Ignoring emotions that make the most sense;
Like a flower catching a winds’ gust,
Lying pressed against a white fence.

Outweigh greed with trust,
Against everything you’ve been told;
It’s how to live in the upper crust,
But it’s fools gold.