Monthly Archives: July 2013

good evening, all benevolent

regard your once upon a time
as a once upon a time
and tell your story, rightly, from the start
there was never much of life
you held to painting racing stripes
upon your wilderness;
a forest for its light

now sometimes your words spin
and sometimes they fall in
like candle wax, go dripping toward the floor
and even when the night begot
no charlatans who sought
to form no idiotic phrasing on the door frame

what a crock
what a shame

good morning, all radicals

bring it on to shoulder no warmth
as the breeze plays around your hair.
you are the music beneath the branches
sat calmly in their shade.
and so with a culled mystic from the golden age
you tumble through the tall grasses and onward
never to be seen again, laughing.
you are the fool’s gold
always tricking someone into believing.

good morning, all vivacious

it is as much a calm before the storm as anything
the past wades, idly, through the ocean and
chooses its place upon the shore
there is a widening of a pattern, calmed
and into the darkness the lines stretch,
forming its shapes through the night
the moon shivers
the stars shake
and midnight’s wealth streaks by
not for a mother’s cry
but for a father’s wake

good afternoon, all people writing

it was written on a page
it was dying for its age
and nothing will be going again
starting off with a pen
and finishing with a typewriter
a story of old
whose themes are too bold
for the moment
and all of it paid
like debts to collectors
something i knew, by the way
still, i never saw moons

it began a long time ago
sifting out wonderings
of people i have known
straight and narrow;
a path, crooked
something out of nothing
where everything is
still i never saw moons

good morning, all supposedly so

the path to eternity
read it or weep
for people caught backward
they’re wolves or they’re sheep
a candlestick burns
through the night as you sleep
and as fires engulf you
you dance across floors, creaking

oh where are you now
bold son of the hours
spent sneaking around
and down with the shadows
playing like flames across streets

oh where are you now
as the darkness retreats
into dawns
when the sun rolls up over the hills
and sleet pounds upon
roofs made of sheet metal

what are you thinking
where will you go
how are you feeling
praying for snow
as the heat grabs you
and stabbing like knives made of steel
hearing the wolves calling
and making it feel so real
when you’re only what’s not
a reality seeping into daydreams
surreal visions across your eyes
already wet with your crying
for tides slipping down past your ankles
and waiting to go anywhere
with nothing in your pockets but pennies

you’ve fires to start
climb the roof and be free

that’s how it was for me
and that’s how it will remain
on a ship bound for no seas
shrinking away

that’s how it was for me