Arms Length

Does it hinge on the breadth of your reach
to determine how much you’ll embrace?
Don’t shun all the things love can teach
in favor of personal space.

Props

Your absolute best
can’t match my worst—
and keeping abreast?
You’d be the first.

You did put the flam
right after the flim
but lately your sham
could use a good shim.

Struck

The moonlight on the desert
is a truly wondrous thing
it makes the sand as golden
as the coffer of a king,
though scorpions still sting.

Across the dunes that glistened
rode an agent of the dark
determined to deliver
a swift and silent arc
to a duly sanctioned mark.

No glimmer of compassion
helped to soften his harsh glare
he hurried without respite
to the small encampment where
his victim brushed her hair

completely unsuspecting
of the target on her back,
she prepped herself for slumber
while he squinted through a crack
impatient to attack.

Abruptly she stood naked
in a scintillating beam
of moonlight that portrayed her
as a goddess from a dream—
what madness made it seem

a sin to harm such symmetry,
what demon stayed his hand?
He struggled with new feelings
he was loath to understand
that shifted more than sand.


***Part I***

Cataract

The mountain speaks in voices
many mortals can’t perceive
it rumbles and rejoices
rising up with every heave,

relating all the anguish
men endure to reach a peak
while scolding those that languish
when there’s still so much to seek;

it cries with tears cascading
down it’s thoughtful craggy face
unsettled by the fading
depth of vision in our race.

Ceded

How long before another rock
collides with our blue haven
obliterating everything we know
in a planet-wide inferno
while leaving craters graven
by the future building block.

Trespasses

We are bound by buried lines
that lurk like deadly mines
or choking twisted vines

which cling to reaching limbs
with parasitic whims
while daylight slowly dims

behind dejected drapes
prohibiting escapes
for those who’d rather traipse.

Shady

The sunshine through the trees
becomes a strobe light in my head
as I nonchalantly breeze
beside a quiet riverbed,

I can tell the day is waning
by the angle of the light
but I’ll savor what’s remaining
like a boxer prizes fight.

The jangle of my chain pervades
this shaded little trail
bisecting rising blades
that grow much greener as I sail

beyond where they are rooted
on this evanescent ride
that’s turned so convoluted
no one covets my divide.

Bitten

The musty and primeval spoor
that comes from deepest growth
inveigles me to linger like the moss
but I have made a binding oath
and will tarry here no more
for someone may be saddened by the loss—

forsaking Eden’s lush embrace
to don eternal gold
I hear the roaming creatures smugly jeer,
though later when the night is cold
I’ll revel in the grace
of sweeter flesh than any sacred sphere.

Husbandry

There’s no way you can penetrate the wool
that those within your stable deftly pull
and if you’d like to keep your pockets full
never fall in love with your own bull!

Crossed

Alone upon a snowy hill
a marble cross stands mute and still
just like the vessel it purports to bless
but if it really helped them cross
to reconnoiter with The Boss
is ultimately anybody’s guess.

Spectacle

Betrayed by orbs of blue
that used to be so true
reduced to rims I rue
to vivify the view.

Colored

Belay your boasts
of conjuring ghosts
I’ll take a swipe
at all the hype
and taint your toasts
with one small gripe

there was no test
to prove he’s best
despite his grin
what got him in:
the heart in his chest
or tint of the spin?

Journey

Where sultry ingots line the lane
that dwindles in a golden haze
adventurers are bound to gain
enhanced perspectives on their ways
provided they are not too vain.

Led

The thoroughfare
was salted bare
which bleached away the lines,
at three am
my stratagem
was seeking solid signs
when suddenly
in front of me
a shooting star struck loam—
one glowing guide
to aid the ride
I hope will take me home.

Less Gone

I dreamt of Mom the other night
she was distant from me (big surprise)
and moving perpendicular to my path
at the end of a long narrow room.
I instantly recognized her
and started to increase my speed
so I could talk to her
the way we used to,
the way I wanted to that night
her charred, disfigured body
laid twitching before me
in a room that smelled
of burning death.

Continuing forward it dawned on me
that this must be a dream
and I wished that somehow it could be real
you know, as Poe so beautifully said
“A dream within a dream”
but then I remembered some dreams
turn into nightmares
from which a person can’t be roused.

Then suddenly I was right beside her
and she slowly turned…
into someone else.
An older, chubbier woman
wearing glasses with smoky lenses
stood before me
as stoic as a statue.

I had my hand out to touch her
but quickly withdrew it saying
“I’m sorry but you look just like…”

“I know – tell your sister I’m alright.”

Then I woke up.

My heart was racing, I was sweating
and my stomach was on fire
I’ve never felt the way I did that night,
it was terrifying.

Of course I told my sister when I spoke to her afterwards
and strangely enough
she had apparently been asking our mother
(talking to her share of the ashes)
if she was okay
and why she hadn’t come around
to see my niece’s new baby
that very same night I had had the dream.

Needless to say my sister is convinced
that Mom came to me,
that her spirit actually entered my mind
to relay the message.
I voiced my concern over why
she changed to someone else,
was it because I didn’t know her anymore
due to my own aloofness?
But my sister assured me
it was because she didn’t want me to see
how badly she had been injured,
that would explain the smoky glasses
for her eyes had been burned completely away.

I guess it all depends on what you believe.

I’m not sure about all the metaphysical stuff
but I do know one thing—
every night I pray before sleep takes me
that I dream of her again
real or not
so we can really talk
like we used to
and I can tell her how much I miss her
and love her.

Show

The worthless turds
with polished knees
use lavish words
to foster fees,

they don’t say much
that’s proven fact
but lie with such
impeccable tact

that soon the truth
becomes passé—
it’s so uncouth
to earn your pay!

Advances

Work is a chore
it’s a bore
you’re a whore
prostrating yourself
right there on the floor
accepting it for
your name on the door
a better position
so you can take more.

Fact or Fear

And what would it take to believe:
a steady procession of ills,
or a miracle that fulfills
your dream to never grieve?

Faith doesn’t need a reward—
motivation to care
shouldn’t hang by a hair
like that infamous double-edged sword.

Cluster

The darkened room was brimming full of kin
impatient to emphatically partake
and gobble down a piece of flaming cake
which glowed as much as Dad’s contented grin.
We sang the song that everybody sings
with love to either Grandpa, Dad, or Bill
then greedily inhaled our frosted fill
while savoring the succor kinship brings.
At last we had to brave the frigid night
and stood outside beneath a brilliant moon,
it seemed the time to part came much too soon
which prompted us to gauge the stars in sight—
Orion sparkled brightly in the sky
reminding us to never say goodbye.

***Happy Birthday Dad!***

Welfare

He blankly extracted his benefit card
to purchase the tonic that softens the hard
but soothing libation on which he resides
in hopes that the anguish completely subsides.

Altruism

Tonight on my way home from another long day
I stopped at the market for coffee and lotto,
exhaustion pulling at my sunken eyes,
the need to be home in my own little space
(as hand-me-down as it is)
my sole motivation,
but as I near the counter
I see a hunched over person who
in an overly apologetic voice
asks how much the cheapest cigarettes are;
he flashes a guilty glance my way
and I can see the fear of living
reflected in his furtive eyes,
then I hear the splash of random change
and inwardly sigh
knowing my homeward trek
has been momentarily derailed.

I watch his cracked and soiled fingernails
sorting through the pile of coins,
my own detached digits
caressing the jaded tokens of greed
that line my pockets,
reluctant to intercede and possibly destroy
what may be left of whatever pride
he once had;
finally the last penny is tallied,
his defeated shoulders sink even deeper
and he turns to go empty handed
until I lean over to drop
two shiny quarters on the counter.

“Thank you sir, thank you, thanks.” He stammers
barely able to meet my gaze,
I smile half-heartedly
aware my true incentive is getting home
(damn my honesty)
and turn to conduct my business
resisting the urge to playfully say
“You know those things will kill you.”
because the profuseness of his gratitude told me
he already knew.

Burnt

I’ve stewed and now I’m steaming
be ready for a reaming,
if you think I’ll simmer down
you really must be dreaming—

the pressure is horrendous
with tremors most tremendous
and when the lid is finally blown
the stink will be stupendous!

Join The Banned

My lack of social grace
won’t get me any place
except a list of black
for never chatting back.

Playing It Again Sam

Hi all, Happy New Year! The band had a great gig on New Year's Eve and we have another tonight so I'm just too tired to try and write. This seems like a perfect chance to pull out some 'old records' and play them for you again. I love jamming with those guys and can only hope that my fingers are ready to do some talking later. We've had fantastic jobs that make me want to shout with joy but hopefully it will only get better, and with a little work we can really break free. Hope everyone finds a way this year to make their life the way the want it to be.

Aspect

Mesmerized by Jupiter
I failed to look about
to see what other stars there were
and now the sun is out,

if nothing else I’m patient though
enlightened by mistakes,
my head will swivel to and fro
as soon as twilight breaks

attempting to somehow absorb
the breadth of boundless sky
that circulates beyond this orb
with truth the charmed deny.