A lover’s scramble with coffee and cream.
Conjoined eyes lingering with wine and lust.
Lips loosely sealed from Cupids erogenous aim.
Conversation mixed with love-light and toast.
Last nights delight, tonight yet to convene.
For hungry lovers with nervous stomachs and no names,
Breakfast at the Sunbeam is a must, it would seem.
Don’t believe every spin that’s spun.
What you’ve been told… what you might hear
may only be relative math done by one.
An incomplete equation, a variable unclear.
One man’s division is another man’s sum.
Calculate the whole before you are done.
It has always been there, in plain sight,
in the hiding place.
The painter painted it there,
in negative space.
I’m tired of all the anger.
It feels so inescapable.
All of you. Just you. Me.
Time seems so infinite
Between now and the manger.
Our gods appear quite incapable
Of taming the beast
That demands to be.
A Grey Knight’s Prayer
I can no longer endure this slow demise.
I can no longer defend the line.
I can no longer don the delusive disguise.
I can no longer proffer my time.
I grow weary. I am tired,
My shield is chipped and cracked,
My armor is weakened with rust.
Lead me beside the still water, my Lord.
Restore my soul before I am dust.
There’s a rider in the distance,
A silhouette in the sun.
On a pale horse he sits,
And tallies what I’ve done.
The horizon is in flames.
Time is melting down.
The others have all fled.
I stand here on my own.
Down to my last round.
Religion can not help me.
I must face my fate alone.
As the rider slowly approaches,
I am down to my last round.
Old Wooden Box
Missed Connection at Providence Station
Reality outside zips by as the train travels
through hamlets and passes by crossroads.
Flashing lights and crossing bells are fleeting,
fading into view, into resonance,
out of resonance, out of view.
I am seated looking back, thinking of you.
Another Year in Time
How Does my Garden Grow