Eating Dirt.

No need to tell the dead that they are gone,
the living are the ones who need goodbyes
so leave and let me have my piece of lawn
and if there’s need just call it compromise…

I won’t care when pushing up my grass,
compost is a noble thing to be
- it helps the lowly mushroom spread it’s spawn
and even fungus can be company.

When one is tired of hearing mourners pass
- at least a humble fungus understands
how something living thrives when something dies.

Make sure they’ve placed the pennies on my eyes
then scoop a bit of soil into your hand
- be the first to toss it on my grave
then bury what of me you wouldn’t save.

Second Anniversary.

Still as blind and still as deaf, as dumb
as cold, as numb inside – a stone instead
of heated flesh – that’s what I’ve become…

No life to thrive in all the words I’ve bled,
just random phrases carved to mimic bone
then strung on threads to rattle as I hum

Some tuneless darkling dirge to pass the time
alone between the unknown and the known.
One life behind, another still ahead…

The dark and light will kiss me as they pass.
The wind will whisper every word I’ve said.
The rain will patter down like perfect rhyme…

Unmoved, enduring all as if I could…
Forgiving what will pass as if I should.

My silent song…

Your words to me were solid as a touch…
(The only touch I’ll ever truly feel.)
Reality had never meant as much
to me as all those moments that I’d steal.

I gave my love and laughter inside quotes
and waited til the day I’d be set free
to finally feel the beat and hear the notes
of all the music held inside of me.

The solitude I feel is nothing new
- the peace and silence comfort in their way.
I know there have been times you’ve felt it too
and that you’ll hear this song yourself one day.

‘Till then these quiet words are all I bring…
‘Till then this silent song is all I’ll sing.

Reluctant Terzanelle.

Her heart beats rhyme in rhythm with the street
while dreams – like landmarks - slowly pass on by
(as she walks the walk, she scuffs her feet...)

She doesn’t notice much (or even try)
She travels through the might’s and could have been’s
while dreams – like landmarks – slowly pass on by

In black and white like vintage movie scenes
where memories float like ghosts through frosted glass
she travels through the mights and could have been’s

While fearing that a sacred hour might pass
unmarked, unworthy – disbelieved – unsung
where memories float like ghosts through frosted glass

in whispers, passing knowledge to the young.
(a song – its lyrics locked within a prayer
Unmarked, unworthy, disbelieved – unsung)

Even though she’ll find her answer where
her heart beats rhyme in rhythm with the street
(a song -  its lyrics locked within a prayer)
…as she walks the walk – she scuffs her feet.

Sounds of Silence

To stop this pain and end this awkward dance,
I need to separate my steps from yours.
A chance to change, a change I’ll have to chance,
What time does not destroy it soon restores.

I need to speak my mind – not guard each word,
A rest from expectation…solitude.
I want to feel I’m safe, that I’ve been heard
Till then, I’ll have this quiet interlude.

Beyond this break, well past its jagged edge
I’ll rest and hope our gentlest moments shine
Remembering the love that was your pledge
If meant, your heart will show you its still mine.

Renounce the bitter memories I haunt -
Find peace within the silence if you want.

Riddled (with life)

What life is this? Thriving on life’s waste
believing death is just a taste
of what’s to come while others mourn
another loss – a chance – stillborn
another lifeline left untraced…

Before and after, interlaced
within a wriggling warmth – embraced!
…alone at last, a new love sworn?
Who’s life is this?

It’s feeding – silent, measured – paced
upon a future just erased
and gorging, mindless – free to scorn
without regard to what time’s torn
or how much flesh has been displaced.

Life – what is this…

August 09/2010

I’m not sure what to say or who to tell
- it’s just as well, they’ll soon know anyway
for now I’ll kneel before this cold white God
and offer up the prayers we’ve both rehearsed
each day this week, despite the best advice
swallowing’s so much harder when reversed -
I’m cursed – or blessed or something in between
Things could be worse, depends on how this goes…

‘You need to keep your strength up’ I would say
while choking down a pill as big as you
and it’s true, I think I need a little help
but it’s still three weeks until they’ll say you’re here
so I don’t think that I’ll introduce you yet.

There’s nothing left for me to do but wait
and maybe sleep between each retching prayer
it’s late – too late to try to stop this now
I don’t know how, I just know it’s too late.

Dedicated to Gabriel Richard (Gabe) last name withheld

August 05/ 2010

Hello flutter-bug, I feel your tiny wings
like eyelash kisses on my cheek
such sweet little things that tickle

When you dance the hiccup dance
and secret smiles are bubbles
light as air all troubles disappear

As if you know before I do
what moves will make me laugh
out loud, some people ask me why

And I just sigh and say it’s nothing
but a sunny day and love and life
and then I think of you and smile…

Dedicated to Gabriel Richard (Gabe) last name withheld

Words I can’t say.

I don’t do it so loud or make it nice
when still -  there remains a line

between the words once vowed and this dry ice,
that will – with this breath – combine

to produce its haunting mist… as cold as vice
obscuring words that once were mine.

Interpretation #1:

I’m fine.

Insane,
maybe…

Falling
into
nothing -
eternally.