Wednesday, January 28, 2009

not just the colour of a letter*

dark and bright enigma
unknown outside of me
smiling still
through it all
shaded behind a name
chosen by you
left not alone even by yourself
what peace will bring you
in us
in words
in us
alive

* for Scarlet

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

such a waste

sirens sing the angels home
devils smile their angry breath
drawing forth
words crashed against the breaker
all the while saying,
the road ahead is lined
with broken dreams
carry on this one-way obstacle
hauntingly weightless
in this hollow horizon
never to feel
these long tired dreams

abstract nouns

the definition of yourself
bouncing to the floor
falling from the deaf ear of another

the reprise of the id
tumbling softly
like the snow outside this window

frosted-over
with the breath of the lonely
your view obstructed

by this cold awakening
your own collection of words
meaningless to define you

lie scattered on the ground
covered and oblivious
in this slow descent of white

Sunday, January 25, 2009

and that disease is love...*

a twisted torment of fluctuating course
gone before treated
back before recovered
always leaving the bearer
with simply the hows and the whys
and the cottony aftertaste
of the will this ever ends

the tug of the inexplicable
soaring to new heights
on the waxed wings of destruction
breathtaking in its fall
the crash and the burn
beautiful horror swept away
as the cherubs sweep you up for more

as the words form on your lips
at the edge of that sweet precipice
once again consumed by fever
and the acid of uncertainty
gathers and burns your throat
the ground breaking away
under the feet of angels

it's never ending. no cure.
the plunging sickness left
the rotted hole within your gut
and tears the vessels bleeding
from the holes left in your heart
as another wave of hoping
carries you off away, again.

* for juicebox

Saturday, January 24, 2009

devils

lyrics
the dark lullaby dream
waking My women
to shred this soul
you, the only one
understanding what it means
to slip
macabre for you
misery will sway
our ultimate devils
today, with me
our melody lies
rotting in decay

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Diorama

the glue that holds us
yellowed and cracked
like these four walls
one for every tragic figure
left clinging
to this open display
transparency
defines us now
both for what we are
and for whom we were never meant to be

boxed in a delicate decay
openly observed forever

the tears of the living
captured three-dimensionally
discolored in spreading pools
around our cemented feet
useless to us now
except to erode this flimsy foundation
we stand upon
keeping us in place
preserved in scale
against this painted background

boxed in a delicate decay
openly observed forever

will the time not ever arrive
for the gentle closing of this lid
to shield us again
and cover this darkness
in darkness
eternal
ending this sad display
human indignity the endless endeavor
of this self-made enclosure
surrounding us in both shadow and truth

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

i never remember

to stop and say goodbye
after the dance has finished
leaving silent footsteps in the wake
of this wave as i turn
and leave you there alone

to bend a little backward
affording you the space
to lead every once in a while
and leave your own mark
on this path of ours

to act with the human intention
of bringing you forth
whole through this experience
instead of the hollow shells
i leave never saying goodbye

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Trust

is the dagger
honed not on one edge
by the sharp bluing
of the metal-smiths craft
but with the dull oxidant
of age and abuse
now used to cleave away
piece by piece
at the remains of what
still stands between us

gone, the fine fired steel
which carried us
all those years ago
leaving in its place
this blunt reality
we have come to know
and embrace together
our last stand
alone
a shadow of ourselves

Sunday, January 18, 2009

the sea

dying on the bank
of a river which no longer flows
north to the St. Lawrence
this slow denial
made possible by men like me
blocking my own egress
to the sea

the silt of me
lay buried in my path
left as if by shedding skin
to mark the course once blazed by others
only to fill the bottom
erasing both channel and escape
to the sea

Thursday, January 15, 2009

sky-blue orange

the colours i see in my mind
not always gray
implode
as horizons do
at times
when facing west
at dusk's reprise
not always the end
this blanket of light
though fleeting
before the inevitable
push of night
takes me again

Monday, January 12, 2009

a whole lot of nothing

this large expanse before us
seems like nothing left at all
just a vacant stark reminder
of the distance of our fall

these etchings on this canyon
or the aquamarine sea
still won't free the anger
i harbour within me

the copper-brown seduction
i once saw in the sky
was replaced by gray obscurity
fog descending on my eyes

a once endless vast horizon
we followed as our course
is now filled with devastation
sorrow and remorse

in a sky once blue and brilliant
at night showing all its stars
is now clouds and distant thunder
i hear rumble from afar

today is not tomorrow
and yesterday is not today
now just a whole lot of nothing
is all that comes my way

a sad chain of events

i chose to cross the threshold
empty handed towards the curb
without a goodbye
or even a tear
to fog my departure
walking just as erect
as so many years ago

as with all extracting moves
the price, often overlooked at first
was both steep and swift
the loss outweighing the gain
erasing any good proceeding
my exit from this hell
pressing hard upon these shoulders

not a word from the diminished
echoed peace within my ears
only half a heart remaining
for only half a man remains
removed by his own action
leaving nothing left the same
except the screaming of the silence

the soil now lay abandoned
weeds encroaching in its place
like the ivy which consumes us
when our eyes are turned away
this subtle sweet erosion
now defines my everyday
all because the simple action of a man who stepped away

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Mile-High Sadist

despite this respite in the sky
i query you, alone without communication
i write. you listen.
although you are not seated next to me
we are together

our time carries on
despite time-zone, pressure, or circumstance
we are afforded no passing glances
nor have we ever touched
yet you remain, bound to me

you once laughed at subliminal
until you questioned it no more
the reality of the undone
became much more welcome
than your daily sunrise without it

silly, silly girl
i held you as a woman
never touching the skin which was mine
even tonight flying north away from you
a mile high above, as always

Friday, January 9, 2009

where did you come from?

the appointment, routine. the outcome, predictable
for one of us at least
you first; was it you who came to me?
or just a matter of convenience
and opportunity defined the time?
leaving you presented in front of me now

i watch myself, your chosen professional
my words inflected with both wisdom and intent
left for you alone to decipher
their course set each by the other
their outcome the same
each asking ourselves the same question...

i remember you

as the wheels hit the tarmac
just as vividly as when they left
blue sky, measured in distance and time
the meridian unchanged
ignored completely for you
even as this south-to-north
axis prevails

demure in your posture
a woman of want despite yourself
exposed beyond the Saints
you cling to and ask,
what has become of me?
this man who has left my side
i beg for again

we lay at night
in our separate beds
with the same words in our head
i remember you
like the dawn of tomorrow
and the moon of tonight
i remember you

People

relying on the masses
i step into my own world
defined by the multitudes
the yin and the yang
of us all

smile, or not
as you pass me by
you are not whole regardless
without my full
acknowledgment of you

the full circle comes
in the recognition
that we occupy the space
of one another
alone on purpose

i can pick your mood
from the hat you wear
and the jeans you do not
or the expression
on the face of your partner

little lies beyond me
as you pass oblivious
to no one but yourself
never seeing for an instant
there are people all around you

Another Place

i see you in the hall
seldom
knowing you are somewhere i can not be
the descent to 27,000 feet
quickens my memory
of the coffeepot positioned
in a secluded corner
on opposite floors
where i pour your sugar
and you ignore my cream
the rare, sublime encounter
we allow ourselves
in the everyday world
we call another place

Thursday, January 8, 2009

no one ever really wants the truth

tell me you hate me
because that's what i need to hear
that slap as good as a kiss
bringing a smile to my face
despite the sting
made possible by your words alone

our deception's in the opposites
equidistant between reality and want
a realization as good as truth
to two unseeing souls
each searching for what's before them
blinded only by themselves

this efficacious dance we do
for the benefit of each other
after years of erecting our walls
knowing the meaning, for us
is much more in what isn't said
because no one ever really wants the truth

a twisted kind of love

i keep you seated, when you want to run
unable to bring your eyes to mine
shy, you say
while i see right through you
unable to break away from the pull
of a strangers bizarre hold
more compelling than you'd imagined
more intriquing than you can stand
you hate yourself
and i love you for it

tomorrow marks the anniversary of nothing
one which you will embrace with tears
why, you say
wondering if you will ever be good enough
while already answering your own question
in your head you have these discussions
waiting for some reciprocation
which you know will never come
resigned to the reality
of this twisted kind of love