Friday, September 21, 2012


They stampede onto the street,
Like oxen suddenly freed.
Carried on a tide of breaking faith,
And impossible dreams.
They declare their faith with roars,
Like armies marching to war.
They assault my serenity,
They rape and pillage my stillness.
They batter down the doors,
Behind which hides my terrified,
Barely healing heart.
All in the name of a god,
Whose idol they drag through filthy streets,
To drown in a filthy sea.
Am I so far in the depths of me,
That I cannot relate at all,
To their raucous piety?
What does their God think,
When he looks upon me?
As I write this poem,
Sitting before an idol of Him,
With his smile frozen in gray stone.
Does he wish me to drag him down,
Onto the streets choked with people,
With firecrackers going off,
Like a machine gun genocide?
Does he long for the filthy sea?
But then I hear them, and I see.
They scream and they clamor,
They dance and they stammer,
Because their God cannot hear them.
He has turned away from it all,
That we never managed to be.
Turned away until the world goes silent.
Until our imperfect souls grow still.
Because he cannot hear us,
No one can, and no one ever will.
Forgive me, Lord.  For not being loud.
Forgive me for screaming,
Without ever making a sound.
I'm keeping it together.
Alright I lied. It's all falling apart.
But I light a candle before you.
Everyday.  And though all this,
Is what I have, you knew,
It's not what I was asking for.
But what I asked for was not,
What I really needed anymore.
And this prayer to you,
Is to thank you, in my silent way.
For all that I ended up with.
And that's all I wanted to say.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

This Hopeful Night

The night restores what the day strips away. 
I wish I could live by moon and by star light. 
Never having to show the unpleasant sun my true face. 
I wish you would reach out to me. 
Instead of waiting for me to do the same. 
And while we both wait like fools. 
An entire lifetime slips quietly away.
The night forgives what the day doesn't understand.
In dreams we live as we wished we could.
We wake and face the sun and are forced to forget.
I wish I could remain as I am while asleep.
Instead of this shell I think people prefer.
And while day holds no place for my dreams,
I see you dance for me across moonlit sands.
The night remembers what the day never learned.
While the world chips away at us,
With the meetings, the judgments, the traffic, the delays.
The night wishes only to remind me of you.
My guiding light, my morning star, my final love.
And while the days stumble on, the night holds on.
For it has foretold our fire, and how fiercely it shall burn.
The night recites the songs that I write for you.
I am merely the pen it holds in its tireless hands. 
These aren't just poems we make, they're flying lanterns.
Which I take to the edges of me and set alight.
And I watch them rise, like a stairway leading down to me.
I watch them rise, hoping their light is enough to draw you,
To the edge of you, where I wait, and to pull you through.

Thursday, September 13, 2012


The World came calling today. For coffee and a cigarette.
He asked me how I was, how I was dealing with my regrets.
He asked if I still thought of her constantly, even when I slept.
He advised me to sit still and stare quietly at the sunsets.
He tried to say many other things as well,
But I was already walking for where the liquor was kept.

There are days when you feel like a king in his own kingdom.
Others you feel like an old clown beaten solemn.
Days when laughter and joy fuse with your every atom.
Others when desire lies dying, and the guilty heart sits numb.
But this isn't one of the sad songs, no.
This is for the warriors, the bowed but unbroken.  This is our anthem.

Let the world know misery we will not dwell in it.
Let the filth fill the oceans we will not swell in it.
We found Hell in this world.  We'll find the Heaven in it.
Our deepest religion may cause us to rebel in it.
But we know a broken heart only heals,
When there's nothing left to sell in it.

There is music here that shakes the heart like thunder.
There is love left on the surface.  It's not all buried deep under.
There are moments still that leave you gasping in wonder.
There is wine enough to make you forget your every blunder.
I know we all get it wrong now and then,
But even when we wish to, we never ever surrender.

Let the eagle within you soar. Let the church bells ring.
Let your weary heart be healed and ready for anything.
Let your potential flower, like a field of lilies in the spring.
Let them see your victory dance, let them hear you sing.
Embrace your own life like a reunited lover and say,
You my dear, are Queen.  And I was born to be your king.