And in this
lonely, dusty ruin
I count the coins
comprising
the price
of my perdition.
I have strangled
my conscience,
and opened
my accounts.
An easy life
in uneasy trade
for a diseased soul
that screams
and cries
in the silence.
I watch it
fall away.
I will be
troubled no more
as it sleeps.
And see
the teardrops
spray from my lips
as I whistle
and smile,
eternally
dying.
As autumn dies,
the bitter night wind
seeps into the stone walls
of what has become my
new home.
Hope of leaving
abandoned me.
She peers into the defeat
replete within my gaze,
and smiles
with
pleased and mocking scorn.
Dressed in midnight,
she comes,
a cream-skinned shadow
in silvered fog,
and tells me her name
is
Cara,
as if I cared,
as if defeat had somehow
changed to affection.
A Murder follows her,
and obeys her every gesture.
Her lacquered black nails point,
and soft eyes are
plucked like jewels from bone settings,
the screams
drowned by the eldritch music
of their raucous cries.
Why do you stay? she whispers in my mind.
Do you not see there are no stones to bar your path?
No chains, no locks, no guards to block your way?
Blind,
I stumble past
the warring scents
of lavender and carrion,
to roam
the shrouded night.
Exhausted,
helpless,
and alone,
by dawn
I find myself
returning
once again,
to where she freed me.
And barefoot, shivering,
crying ice-laced tears,
I walk the frigid riverbed
back to my
Cara-cell.
Vanquished now,
I return
to find
all bare of life,
and stilted, stifled purpose
laces the air that has
disguised her
earthy scent,
rank loam in the ruins.
The stones of my home,
my fence,
tumbling
atop each other,
as my men
from their horses,
ungainly unseated,
and skewered
for their lack of skill,
or a champion.
Grasping, bare, black branches soon
reach to pull me into
the shadows
of my mind.
As did she.
Merciful
was the
headsman’s ax,
and swift.
The sky and ground
joined hands
to somersault
in sun-dappled motley
before my eyes.
And
I returned home,
now
Vanquished.
Kairi comes down
by the
moonlit water
to play for
me
on random summer evenings
Not of this world any longer,
I cannot hear her,
but I can see.
Ah, there she is.
Fair and dark are her features,
Dark and fair is her song.
Spinning, playing a bright flourish,
she smiles at a memory,
and I feel the press of its
warmth against my molding bones
as if she hugged my spirit.
I wonder if she feels
my presence?
At times, when she plays,
there are tears.
I long to take them away, to
wipe them tenderly
and tell her all is well,
before we kiss,
before we part.
I hold onto that moment
that never was,
never will be,
and it will ever have to be
enough.
As Kairi turns to go,
the melody is severed,
and the notes are interwoven
with the stars.
I feel what I can only call
a smile pervade my being.
No, there will be no tears tonight,
just the song, dark and fair, it’s plaintive echo
traveling through the lichen covered
headstones of the forgotten, as Kairi, fair and dark,
vanishes into the mist, and over the hill.
All my duties come to naught,
and as for all the things I bought,
I place the high-def screens in
front of things that really matter,
And put the things that really matter
inside the screen.
Pictures of family
Pictures of memories
Pictures of successes
Pictures of loss and regret
Pictures of friends who lost
the battle to live forever…
And today,
here I stand
utterly alone,
wrapped in sullen silence,
chilled by cold thoughts and
ironic imaginings
of what might have been
after all this time.
Sifting shifting sand,
unable to find what I deemed insignificant
and buried,
only to realize all that
ever matters
is the life you’re living
Now.
Ah, look you, men of iron will.
See, fools of tender heart.
Behold, those of noble birth.
Attend, lowest of the low.
In all majestic splendor,
the gentler orb turns
soft and saddened eye
to sodden field.
There is no one to greet her,
to write a sonnet to her beauty,
no one left now even to ignore it,
or wish in hope upon it.
Yet on your ancient quarrels,
as she always has, she rises,
and gazes on your stillness,
wonders at your silence,
and cries the falling stars
to soak, and cloak the folly
of your war-filled hearts.
The ancient moon,
in tranquil glory,
in timeless diary,
writes once more…
They do not love.
I see the
honeyed magic
flow
from fingers
filled with morning’s
glow.
It’s in your hair
and cheeks
and eyes.
You wring from me
such wretched sighs.
I would possess you
if I could,
But wishing so
will do no good,
for you’re above
and I’m below.
I’ll stand beneath
the light you throw
as Lady’s favor
to her Knight
in shining armor,
ere the fight
shall take him from
her brilliant arc,
and place him in
the cold and dark.
If you send
honeyed magic there,
I’ll sleep in peace,
without a care.
You haunt the lake now
Melody?
What are you searching for?
You cry aloud so mournfully!
It pierces to the core…
I see translucent tears aglow!
How can a spirit cry?
It’s me you look for,
Melody?
I didn’t want to die.
I ask forgiveness,
Melody,
for holding you below
The dark and murky
water where
you didn’t want to go.
Do not approach me,
Melody,
with eyes of fire and hate
You said you loved,
but I did not,
and now it is too late.
So I insisted,
Melody,
that we could both be free;
I didn’t know the
end of you
would be the
end of me.
What verdant limb
tore
the remnant
of
my soul
that you hunt me?
What spore of heart
did I scatter,
that you
search me out?
My desire for freedom
is as deep,
if not deeper,
than your desire
to kill it.
Yet
as I flee your arrows,
my Dark Artemis,
I wonder if I’m really
searching for
a trap,
that you may
claim me
Or a corner,
where I must fight
to keep my heart,
or die a trophy
in your embrace,
And wonder
which I’ll choose…
No thermostat heat
No central air conditioning
No storm windows
No waxed floors
No cafeterias
No new books
No shiny desks
with compartments
for your stuff
No high tech lighting
No cell phones
No smart boards
No desktops
No laptops
No gaming consoles
No wi-fi
No bullies
No nonsense
No cheating
No missing homework
No disrespecting teachers and elders
No smartass remarks
No sagging your pants
No midriffs and cleavage
No smoking to get high
No cutting class to have sex parties
No baby daddies
No baby mamas
No drug dealers
No gang bangers
No dropouts
Just say Know…
Know technology
Know reading
Know math
Know science
Know history
Know music
Know mechanics
Know carpentry
Know electricity
Know geography
Know your brothers
Know your sisters
Know your purpose
Know your future
is in
your hands
You do know that, right?
Beyond Panic 