Button

I fixed on a black button on the floor.
Was it there before, or did it spring
from the shirt they ripped off to intibate?

The room rang in silence,
and her electric tension
as she brushed hair from his forehead.

He was peaceful in his final condition.
Never a cautious man, he lived full
and laughed hard. He fought for the forgotten,
unfortunate and even undeserving.

He loved with a heart so big
it swelled his chest, and welled
up in his head
until he hurt from loving too hard.

We all hurt
next to his bed,
next to a button on the floor.

The last words of the infantryman

Should the last of us be here today
Then none more need be said
But should you be, my son, instead
Then I am never dead.

For my life has been spoken for
And lived unto its last
But you, my son, can carry on
And honor what is past.

The circle of the name shall see
Some rise and others fall-
May you be the best of us
And stand tall.

The last war

Love lined baskets under the eternal moon
Filled with Last Hopes Beer.
Drink the poison until there's none;
That oughta help the fear.

One last breath of toxic air
Goes so well with rotten drink-
Swear you'll put them down tomorrow
At least that's what you think.

Forget I know you better, friend
Or enemy depending on situation
You're so good at wearing hats
Just be honest and let's wage war.

Live among the fetish folk
Armed with your black shield
Fighting the battle never won
After losing what was real.

And you will fight another day
For empty battle fields
Earning merit and building castles
To fill with all your nothing.

The walking shadow

It feels empty in this house.

Like the construction zone where spirits go;
Building the mosoleum.

It feels empty in this house.

Where people live in cells that block mind and music
From deep within the heart from coming out.

It feels empty in this house.

Where I once was and died so I
Could find some semblance of "life" in hell.

I remember the fire

I remember quick and strong
When sexual tension was only wars with sticks in our forest kingdom.
I remember the glistening matte finish on magic cards before they retired-
I remember the fire.

I remember learning mean
When fights were done with fists and love was unrequited
When letters were left in desks and French kissing was what inspired
I remember the fire.

I remember the struggle
Of becoming a young Adonis and finding out it meant little to the world in love
I remember playing a character on a stage of dreams and I inspired!
I remember the fire.

I remember traveling
And wandering the world seeking my place.
I remember love of fine drink and intoxicating fantasy in reality
Waking up completely surrounded and utterly alone
Far away from home looking for a new home
Dying not to ask and still having money wired
I remember the fire.

I remember the tiny face that changed my world
His alien, black eyes waking from a cacooned sleep in a prison of maternal ecstacy
I remember never loving his mother more as she perspired-
I remember the fire.

Then fires embered in the consequential silence
Lack of money and adventure caused a need for details to inspire
I forgot the fire

And we stayed inside like cold, rainy days in the fire
Where we waited for life
And now waited for death
And with nothing to retire
We had to work with no reward
And further quench the fire.

Now sitting with flint and kindling
Forgetting about the matches and gasoline
I've lost the advantage of youth:
I've lost the inspiration and the elation
Trading it for castles, fear of failure and a few dollars to retire-
I remember the fire.

A moment of silence

I love you

You don't know the pain I suffer
You don't see the tears
I want you to know the way I love you
And have loved you all these years.

I know who you are and ponder
How you've cried from what I've done
Life without you is eternal night
And all I want is to see the sun.

To know that you will cry no more
And feel my loving you
I only want you to know
That those three words I say
Every syllable is true.

I love you.

Murder

When I'm lost you seek to find me
But you waste me on most days
You keep me close at hand
Because I'm worth more than your pay.

I have at least 3 meanings
One of which is after one
I represent an also
And identify the person to which something's done.

I represent the end
But religiously i'm a beginning
I'm always unavoidable
But to give me would be sinning.

What am i?

Broken love

Her eyes are like glass pools
That capture sunlight in the dark.
Lying on her lap I feel as though I am immortal
And my warrior woman will stop the terrors.

My world is suspended til she trusts me again
To never be the demon that I was before
There is a castle we once owned called our family
And I may have shut the door.

Give me 10 good men and some climbing spikes
And I will never bend.

When prey becomes predator

Methinks thy testimony doth not merit thy despair
For what thou say'st in ern'st thou doeth in ern'st.
Would a lesser man weep and cry for his atonement
The brazen one claims his conquest and feels nothing.
Nay, thou art too much of a blaggard for remorse
Thy eyes tell a story thy tears will not.
Thy monument betrays you when a fashionable temptress turns her tail.
Remorse behooves the simple man who knows little of what he does or says but thou
Thou art felonious with thine eyes
Vicious with thy tongue
Satan's neice and evil's handmaid
And what's worse, thou hath infected me....

A modicum of pain

What builds a man save a modicum of pain?
Most scars heal quickly with time-
And yet time is a chef's knife to the soul;
Cutting deeper and deeper since we own it finite.
Pain is a good thing sometimes.

When one has to evolve whatever the reason:
Age, shame or bugs in the brain;
One becomes an ally of time
And it's sharp edge-
Pain is a good thing sometimes.

Profession of Love

My darling my dear,

The winds of time could not obscure you from my visage

your bichromal hair like neurons wisping through my brain

your scent on my pillow and everything I own

and like so deep in my pores, it's ingraned.

My darling my dear,

I hear you in my dreams

calling to me from some forgotten corner of my fantasies

your awesome presence like a musical fade out fading in

till the din of you cannot be tamed.

My darling my dear

we have evanesced but you never left my side

my world existed before you for humoring others

and though I still love such things without your laugh

I hold this truth: I am but an echo

of the man I am with you.

Touch of Death

Do you remember touching death?
As he lay in the casket surrounded by flowers,
His face deflated like a burst balloon over coral.

Had those eyes been open
They would have laughed to see me fail at a push up
My flabby belly touching the floor before my nose did-
And yet, I touched death.

His skin was cold and stung my hand like a bee-
Cradling his jaw was painful as my heart felt
And the sting lingered after I broke caress.
Have you ever touched death?

Life is such a beautiful fairy tale full of laughter and stories
Both the wildly hilarious and the boring as he'd sit there with a cancerous dog
And stroke his soft fur with death waiting patiently by
Have you ever touched a waning soul?

And I never would have thought to see him in that chair
When life was with him after the mind had died
And though his life was warm it froze in
The touch where he lay in his Charon's canoe
And the pain that shot up my arm as I caressed his cheek and knew-
That I had touched death.

Where are the rest? Who know this feeling?
There are support groups for the grieving and the bereft
But where are those who can horrifically recall,
That they touched death?

Goodnight grandfather,
may the cold be only the cold of the bomb shell
In the explosion of your life
consuming those who knew you-

So your transcendence would remain in the world in your wake and their's
As those who knew them would grieve at their side
And feel pain but not deny one last touch of a cheek
Confidently touching death.

Waves

I am not one to brave the shore
And yet I cannot account for my stay
So many stable grounds to live on
And yet I love the ocean's sway.

The lack of grip upon my road
Ensures no traveler will sail the same
A wayfarer's lot was mine to gain
And I threw it away for a landlubber.

But there's something to be said for land
For the sea, she can't be tamed.
So I might ride horses over grassy fields
A fair trade for the return of Poseidon's reigns.

Forgive an old salt who's spent too much time away
I wake to rise and shout and quarrel
But where as once eternity was a slew of tomorrow's
I think I've taken to land and enjoy the today's.

When I was a young man, then perhaps
The violence of unpredictability and no shame
But I'm a man now, it's time to give up
The surf of youth and the uncertainty of waves.

Devices

I held her eyes within my soul
Who burned their way into my dreams
And fire erupted when she screamed
What glorious destruction comes in moments like these!

Destruction and construction in the alleyway
With passion and hatred, love and war
Collusion at the sliding door
Where once was reason I don't care anymore.

The night brings hard the iron rod
To beat the flowers to a pulp
The steam flies high like wings above
And leaves her with a dying kiss.

And she will hold the river back,
And ride a chariot of porcelain
While he like Grecians at the walls of Troy
Lays face down like a dying man.

They two would only have the night
To battle their flesh and bleed Jörmungand
And though the fight can't be abhorred
I find I may be feeling Thor
And yet come back for more.

Prayer for the Ostracized...

Dear God

I can't go in your house as your children will rebuke me-
I've fallen so far, my friends seem at a distance
My family's disappointed and my mind is all in shambles
What sanctuary comes to me as I wade through all these brambles
Not that I didn't go into the patch myself
But I have no riches now and I just lost my wealth.

What life is there for wicked men who live with Dibbyuks in them?
No life is there for me who has no sanctuary or dominion-
And so I wake tonight: no sleep or sanctum given.

Dear God I ask you only give me you to get me through this
Where is the man without sin?  You tell me lord, but for christ, who is?

Knowing my mistake

For a moment I see light through the incandescence of a cell phone screen in the dim light of my home
The warmth comes through the speakers like a water buoy flashing on a dark sea.
Time stands still and I sit in purgatory talking through the pain-
Like sitting on a warm subway grate in the freezing rain.

Then you have to go to get something to eat
And it's back to the blind experience in the LSC.
Crawling through a tunnel like one looking for their glasses in a midnight street.
The lamps have not been lit and there's so many demons looking for me.

Ironic I should face demons in this darkness on a Sunday-
The hell is not quite over yet, tomorrow welcomes Monday.
I will have my week to live in silent aberration
Like stepping up a step to find there's still an infinite number of revelations.

To my friend Jess

Every path in life will falter
And 'way leads into way'
Don't spend your time in endless answers
Just question all you say.

For people will find you wise, my friend,
Even if you're the silent idiot
Yet the trick is to be wise regardless
For you're the one who must suffer it-

Or enjoy it because life is a great adventure
Only unwise people love death.
If you can love each day you breath
Relish everything and everyone in it.

These are lessons I learned the hard way; so I thought I'd share with you-
Above all my friend, in everything you do: seek truth.

Bliss

A shadow falls o'er all the earth
And there are some who choose to take it-
But others find sunshine in UV lamps
And these are the ones who make it.

Success is survival and endurance of spirit
It's connecting and meeting someone new: feeling it!
He who broadcasts without listening is doomed
To never experience joy.

Not happiness because happiness is a cat by your side,
It's an exquisite dinner, a movie, a handshake, not stubbing your toe on the nail that you keep forgetting to fix in front of the bathroom so it's in exactly the place where you'd miss it.

Joy
Is altogether different.

Joy is faith. A feeling of je ne sais quoi. The terrifying ride that your son or daughter made you go on that you were dreading because you know you hate it but did it because you
Love them.

Joy is love
Which is hard to obtain.

Love and faith and joy are not free
They don't come from Facebook or an Amazon package.
There's no expressing joy through an emoji.
Joy can not be obtained through cat videos and vines
Vines are the parasites that grow all over the lost city called joy.

Your machete is your vigilance to stay real world connected
Your reward is

Bliss.

Sick

Kasan ga daijobou ka?
Tosan ga daijobou ka?
Tosan wa ii desu ne,
Kasan ga byouki desu.

Igaku wa hoshiidesu ka?
Sore wo hitsuyo to shimasu ka?
Daijoubou ka? Daijobou ka?
Kasan wa daijobou ja nai.

Tsuitachi ga owatta kasan ga
Daijobou, daijobou!
Tosan ga daijobou!
Subete no hitobito daijobou!