Daily Archives: November 13, 2014

LESSON CALLED LIFE

I walk alone for just my life
and I walk a path like you
and I know life like you know
to know is a dagger in our heart

Ooooooooh Oooooooooh
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh

I see a cardinal flying there
across the skin of our sky
red against the blue like you
and we can only hug and cry

So we follow the winged one
through the currents
and find ourselves in school
in this lesson called life

And the season is a cold one
so we place our souls upon leaves
the fallen dress of majestic trees
For society has no branches to hang

Ooooooooh Oooooooooh
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh

And this education is other-worldly
a smell of school books and spitball
we placed the apple on the desk
and watch the worm eat its way out

:: 11-12-2014 ::


LIKE WHEN IT LIVED

I loved it when alive
and now so cold.
I crave it more,
to be contented
just like me;
if just a breath
it speaks i should
love it like
when it lived.
Until the grave
it buried lay,
in it’s dreams,
and all my tears
i have the key
to unlock the life
that lives in me.
It lives within
a drop of tear.
If I may have it
when it’s dead,
I crave it more
if it speaks.
I should love it
like when it lived.

:: 11-11-2014 ::


SHOES OF NO FEET

AND time devours us all!

Where are the feet, I ask
that walk upon my shadow?

I see the empty shoes,
silence took a poker card
it’s face a sameness too

And my friend silence
said a big nothing,
asked again I did!

Where are the feet
that own these shoes!

Then silence spoke to me
“the shoes have their path,
the feet too”

:: 11-11-2014 ::


CRAYOLA CHILD

MY induced silence
a pure anguish
which I dearly love
it is the gift unwrapped
beside the door
upon a flatly-table
so stable

Your fascination of me
i beg i am not the worthy
but your continued illusion
of object propels me

My flatter a curse
that burns within me
and I am the forgotten
an uninvited child by life

My crayola
—  childhood I smelled
in youth made me cry
a smell of art that indescribable
invited love
and now the pain so replaced

What heart alive
past certainty
knows,  not death
The promise
so perfection all within the mind

And I am somewhat heartened by pain
the sign of life-like a dying soul
unlike your love
i am strangely excited

Then i should — gave my life
to the expression of beauty
within art and prose
because flesh is not alive
without her artistic expression

:: 11-11-2014 ::