In Time

The empty spot

It is there in my mind

Like a migraine without the off switch

A home on the edge of the world

Were people come and people go

Never staying for long

Stressed about image

Sweating the little things

Condensed in their drama

Suffering in anxiety

Melting till the bond is broke

Awkwardness of still being there

The dullness grows

The nothing in my brain

Between empathy and apathy

Fighting this urge to say I don’t care

What are you looking for?

An honest integrity

An intelligence that intrigues

Without the manipulation to entrap

Someone brave

Strong enough to heal

And meditate between smiles

Gambling on all in

The storm grows

Darkness on the horizon

The thunder calls

Long and hard

You can feel the electricity

On your skin as the hair rise

No place to run

No place to hide

Standing there facing the storm

As the rain comes down

The light flashes across the sky

Everyone gets there in time

Toxic Heaven

Toxic paradise

Intoxicated emancipation

Wide awake sober

Dancing in mind fields

With paper in hand

Just to stop the blood flow

A military Tourette’s syndrome

Mimicking outbursts with real bombs

Involuntary sudden

The pain is real

Forever forbidden to let anyone know

Hiding all the obligation

Drinking the anniversary booze

This world is toxic

And it is our paradise

The only heaven we will ever know

Asylum in a bible

That gets burned

The cleric suspended

In a toxic universe

Eleven long years

Joining a cryptic silent circle

Relationships with misfits and monsters

Wide awake sober

Inflatable reality

Free your mind to this toxic paradise

Dancing in a mind field

The music so loud

There is no way of thinking

All this with military planning

And the bombs are real

Involuntary sudden

With a news paper in hand

To stop the blood flow

Group of eight gather

Reconciling tax flow

Turbulence in a toxic world

Only one killed

Four maimed in that mind field

Children at play

Lingering after a liquid peace

Only the mothers cry

Fathers marking the time

The syndrome of war

Good Pain

A pain that reminds
A pain that means you’re a live
Seeing a fire in those eyes
Entertaining challenge changing it to a smile
A fever that causes a taste for grape

Warm to icy cold
From frosted lips
Tasting a flavored softness
Literature daughters pushing the norms
Playing games with anonymous customs

Laughing with a lopsided grin
A voice that suspends
Eyes that hold one frozen
Floating above the floor
Swinging like silk in the morning air

Catching wind in the palm of her hand
Looking at life through blinded eyes
Giving in a way that only nature can
Dreaming of the good pain pretending
On a layover without thought

The intensity of every sound
A symphony on the senses
A subjective tease
Reminding of the infinite forgotten
A fever for a taste in the flavored softness

A good pain that reminds
A good pain the means you’re alive
In the presents of yesterdays future
Counting down the minutes of today
Anticipating the details of delight

The intensity of every smell
The intensity of every sound
Looking through blinded eyes
A symphony on the senses
The concentration as the clock ticks down

Catching every detail in memory
Smiling at the reflections of today
A burning candle strangely out of place
Swinging by a grape vine
Reading fate on a life line

Irish nomads wondering

Inhale

Slowly

Slow that heart down

Feeling it imploding

Pain throughout the chest

White noise screaming

Injecting the epinephrine

Knowing it is flowing through my veins

Blackness sets in

Was that a dream?

Can you feel pain in a dream?

I don’t want to wake to feel that again

The dark is so quiet and calm

Refreshing after the noise in white

Inhale

Breathe deep and slowly

Slow that imploding heart down

Waiting for the day

Knowing it’s on its way

The womb of mother earth

As father keeps the time

Do you have to be somewhere son?

Missing opportunities dad

Irish nomads wondering

A Celtic need to see the sun rise

Over new horizons

Will I see you again son

I don’t know dad

Because that is easier then no

And somehow not a lie

Inhale

Breathe slowly

Slow that beating heart down

It races to the finish line

Was that conversation a dream?

Were those feel real

It is too painful to stay here

Waking to white screaming noise

Hearing a single voice calmly say

Inhale deeply

Slow that beating heart down

Fathers

Words in the wind

Changing with the times

Irony of rain on a day like today

Mother Nature doesn't know what day it is

Mistakes personified 

Good deeds better then mine

The sound honey dripping

A call on the other end of the world

Words on the wind

Static hard to understand 

Not even in the conversation

A man walks in foot steps

In the genes of yesterday

A prisoner of a box car

Words in the wind

Later because good bye sounds like the end
the sound rain beating on the ground
every word a father wants to say to a child
every word a child wants to hear from their dad
Love is speechless sometimes
I love you can still be heard
when there is only silence
on a static line from the other side
children walk in footsteps
following the big steps in the sand or the snow
There will be a time
when words flow in the wind

 

whispering at the moon

Whispering in the wind

A stalking moon has no friends

Humanities Reluctant Spectator 

Belonging to the night shift

The silvery essence poisoning 

To those lost in longing 

Appearing elongated through  glass

Blue before happiness 

Dwelling in a calm language 

The   debt  of dreams

A fulfillment of hope

Haunting memories

A noisy place of youth

A place that does not exist any more

Shaping mankind with cruelties 

A nervous tension of rage

Powder of knowledge 

Resisting fire beyond the glass 

Witnessing time Credulously 

She disappears after awhile

For she was a dream

Teaching lessons about letting go

Reluctant strangers in my place

Stories from  the ground floor

A need that chooses 

The moon witnesses 

Humanities reluctant spectator

The many have nots

Whispering in the end

haunting moon

The haunting moon

Sounds so eerie as the coyotes call

Hunting in the dark

Running their prey down

In silence they do chomp

A silver shadow beckons

Lining the shadows in light

The sound carries in the calm

Children of the moon dance

Playing in the dark

Screaming at the moon

As if it was they were heard

There is no grey in the dark

No lines in the sand

To jump across

Swimming in the moon light

Rippling in the white caps

In silence they do watch

Children of the moon play

Unhindered by conscience thought

Doing things they wouldn’t during the day

Shielded by the moon’s shadow

Slowly the moon makes it way

Across the horizon

In such away

That lets you know

The silver reflection will be back

In the dark of tonight

The children on the moon sleep

The haunting moon lingers

Paper Moons

Chasing paper moons

In a sweltering heat

Evaporating hope

What is left?

Seven stages of hate

Negotiating with a the reaper

Bantering with silent answers

Chasing paper moons

The only radiance in the dark

Before night turns to day

Tiredness in worry bones

Death grows

Taking it vengeance on life

A casualty of living

Chasing paper moons

In a sweltering heat

Evaporating hope

Washing little smiles away

Grasping at a single thing

Just to make it through the day

Grasping at another the following day

Watching your love waste away

A good soul ripped to shreds

Sitting in helpless shell

Feeling hope evaporate

Everything we are

Comes for the dust of the stars

It hears our sorrow

It feels our tears

It giggles with us

And know our fears

Living and breathing

And knows it too will end

Chasing paper moons

In the sweltering heat

A smile to grasp today

Reminiscing about the future