Archive for October, 2013

4 Weeks


In 4 weeks my life will change
Not gradually but seemingly staying the same
But with a sudden pop of a shrill cry
A sharp contrast
To a sterile wall space

In 4 weeks my life will change
Not like the small cell buried away
That evolved over millions of years
But like the small cell buried away
That becomes you in only a few short months

The change of a hurricane
That destroys what we know
Leaving the soil refreshed
And new where old once stood

In 4 weeks my life will change
Turning my eyes on
And leaving my heart in song
I wont be scared anymore
Never yielding for the future
But awaiting a first born

In 4 weeks
In 28 days
In a very short time
My life will change


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Mr. Dragonfly


Mr. Dragonfly are you lost?
The light is gone
And there is a fear of frost
Your such an unusual visitor
So late into the night
I wonder if you like to stop by for the night
And be on your way with the mornings light.

Those back at your home
Nestled in the grass
Down the street
Turning left
Continuing down the dirt path
Surely they are missing you

What unfortunate turn
Brought you to us tonight

Though your presence is special so
It is late, and now I must go
For those at my home
Would miss me just as well
But I will tell of your visit
And they will express regret that they missed it.

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The Silent Song

new orleans

Broken apart
The coastline bled
Engulfed by its own fragility
She had steadied her ground
All those years
Not taunting fate
But praying with head bowed
Her skin bruised
Rough with wodden timbers
From houses that once stood
And she was quiet
So deathly silent
You would have believed she had not ever existed.

But she had
And she would again
The past wiped out never to be replaced
Fire that almost had been snuffed out
Oh crescent city rise again
Please delta sing once more
Let me know the waters will recede
That the winds will never return
And loved ones will not go missing.

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Sting of Rejection


When you are rejected
It hurts the same
Whether you truly are
Or not
Rejection makes no objections
And holds no exceptions

But when the sting happens
It makes not a difference
To one a rejection is out of order
Another might see reason

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How do you write
When it still hurts?
Planes remind
And nonstop news paralyzes
Where were the graves of forgetting
Did we forget?

We have our causes that were initiated as such
It has been officially remembered
As a moniker of emergency
Now simply forgotten

Scars have healed
But still many cant admit that they even ever existed
So the past remains buried with the victims
Not 112 stories deep
Or lost within a shape of seven sides
Not even within a field of feeding cows
Blurred images of free fall in flight
Instead they occupy one marker
One among many
The only thing they have in common
Is the final day, month and a year

Are they forgotten?
Why do I feel still?
Why does my pen refuse to stand still?
In the hazy sky descends a flying beast
And I sit here waiting for it to drop from the sky
Wondering if I may be witness
Witness to another sea of fear
One that rises from the clouds
And from the East
The big one that lives just beyond our reach.


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She arose from a dream
Where it wasn’t what it seemed
Tasks teetered and tottered
The screams, whispers, laughter… all louder
Broadened out and deepened within
As long as it was two shades away from sin
The color that it is mystifies
The face that is kissed after it cries
And the feeling that was sorely missed
After the lies

Weakened at the horizon
We’ve gone as far as we can go
Taken at the beauty of an eye of a sun
And the dark snapping of a wet snow
Don’t ask and she won’t tell

Pain like disease
Makes her lame
Disease like pain
Everything she doesn’t need

And when that dream got lost in memory
She knew it was just a cycle of history
Partial poignant epiphany
Enough to make history
But recognition is fatal
To the baby in the cradle
So when she arose from the dream
Everything was exactly what it means

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Eyes of Glass


Eyes of glass
And strengths of Babylon
The writing has always been on the wall
The perverse language of the poor
The poor that pour
Their hearts…out for the kindness of strangers
I hope that in time
Thick and thin
I will one day witness this respect
That crawls from between the eyes
Scratching at the lens
And tearing the corneas
The robes of linen at her feet
Count the blessings of the sheets
That wrapped in the middle of the night
Around her naked calf
Cuddling her ankle in sweet absolute surrender
But the eyes slept that night
And missed the sweet beat
Of the marching band as it marched up the street.

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