Today

Here,
Now.
It is the moment you have.
Read: pick up a thought and leave your mark-
Make a difference

29.7.09

Countless

One, Two, three
You,
She
We

In our lives, there is never just
Never you
Never me
Never alone in a world of loneliness

In the darkest secrecy of the private we are entitled to
There is the one,
the two,
the few we share our lives with.

thank you for not leaving me with me.

Deep Within Her Eyes...onward

....she wondered where it led. Race cars bursting with thoughts zoomed around the contours of her mind, as she ruminated over the truth of her being. Born one early night to a waiting mother, she had been a prize at birth. As any market good apart from wine, her value diminished with time, and soon, her age rendered her worthless.

The hollow image stared back at her, mimicking her blinks and breaths; a dark and empty use of skin, blood and very little else. The windows to her soul were open to no view, but wait...there was a glint which had not been there before. It was the weakest glow of the newly blown out candle flame. The persistence of a strong gush of wind propelling the hurricane to destroy the town. A light so dim, it should be waning, but with the arrogant pride of the strongest beast it stays alive, and threatens to never die. A blood curling warning to the very thought of extinguishing it. The lighted rear end of a measly firefly, with the surety of a lighthouse towering above life ending rocks, atop an iron strong house of stone that fights the worst of rocky shore sea storms hailed with howling salty winds.

22.7.09

It Is

What makes you worthy is not just the light
It is not the skin
Nor is it your smile
It was never the way you look at me
I know it couldn't have been your gift
In your hand you melt pain
You annihilate anger
You fill rooms of laughter
With joy of hearts

It is not your soul
It is not your imagination
You build a world of diamonds
From the ashes of the dead embers
It is not the flame
Alight in your heart
Nor is it your spirit, your will to win
It could've been all you can do

It could be all you have done
It can easily be where you are going
The path of greatness reached and kept
Not your sudden flight
Nor your toil at night
It can be your family
The strong foundation
Of a concrete womb that craddles you
Feeds you
and molds you to the man you are.
Of all it's not and could have beens,

Who you are, above all else.

It is....
the space you leave, when you are gone.

9.7.09

Stop

Step one, step two, step three, stop!
Stumble, wait regroup bounce.
Fumble, hold, slip withhold
Exposing no uncertainty the rookie hides his expertise.

Behold!
He knows no failure, no error, no shortcoming
The only one who's lost
Is the man on whose hands he sits

He chose regrets, over avoidance
Wisened, learned, known, using chance

8.7.09

WIDE-EYED

He whispers sweet nothings to the baby,
Her ears swallow the fibs with the honesty of innocence
He knows the sugar filled dreams she has
Her reality, she finds in him: what she thought was fantasy!
Craddling eggs, he prances around the glass of her heart,
Padded feet of a lion make no sound,
But in his mouth, his teeth tear through skin, flesh and muscle

Porcelain doll, wide eyes cannot shut to the world
But they only see the dreams of the ornamental world
He promises her dreams, her thoughts he sees.
It is easy to read the mind of a child: flowers, sweetness...
The depth none can drown in

Garnished in beauty her jewels about her
Gaurded from prowlers, only to award the thief who asks for it
The bleeding heart, body and mind
Purity ends, her life begins.
Creamy, shiny polished ceramic shatters with the fall from cloud 9
A woman is born.
Life begins
The wide-eyed never see the truth till they have lived it.



2.7.09

Arise the Dead in Me

It is 2:51 in the friggin' morning!

The train rambles by, jolting the skeletons of the houses in the neighbourhood it trashes through
Silver bug, is rudely shaken to consciousness and begins his high pitched scream
On without losing its breath, the alarm screams
Till death bestowed on the car battery grants the stillness of the night
Its gentle rest, willed by heavy bodies slowly churning in discomfort between the sheets

Dear midnight train to Alabama,
Would you be more polite please?