BATTLEFIELD.

For all time, I will wander, lost,
in the sea of the world.
For all time, I will dream of what
I can't have and what I didn't do.
My love has been lost in an
endless sea filled with rage.
I am lost with the endlessness of time.
Time is a ragged thing, long and winded.

It tears at you with its claws and you try
to break free and can't, something holds
you back, your memories and the faces of
the ones you love.
Memories are strange, forgetful things
that have no thoughts or feelings but still hide
deep inside of you and try to make you forget
the greatness that is you, that is the world,
that you are not lost or unloved.
I still wander lost and afraid, unknown to
the battle field, and my heart yearns
for freedom.

THE FEARFUL SUN.

The Fearful Sun

The thunder crashes against the

Live-long day.

Nothing will sustain it, not even death.

Thunder is everlasting.

It is quick and omnipotent.

It can shake and shiver at the ground.

It can move and wither like a snake.

Branches move in the wind.

Lightning strikes like a gourd.

How hard the sound makes, as the thunder

Rumbles, and lightning flashes,

And the whole sky is lit up because the

Sun has gone.

The sun will not return for several hours,

Because it is afraid.

THE SEA AND THE NIGHT.

The Sea and the Night

My heart is blacker than the night.

It seethes and burns like a sea.

I am the night that is darker than this,

I am the sea that is born of nothing.

Nothing resides within myself.

Nothing is everywhere that I am not.

Lucky is the darkness that is the night;

Luck is the turning of the tide as the ship

Comes in, water crashing against its sides,

Water rushing over the wooden floors

That bend and move and wave because

A storm is coming and it will last forever.

The sea is going on forever until it evolves

Into a calming thing that we like to see,

To move in and feel against our faces.

The clock is ticking.  The night is bitter

And the moon’s round face is hidden

In shadow, and the water is dark,

And everything is dark in it.

DAYTIME.

Daytime

My heart weeps for you in the daytime,

As well as at night.

I thought I could get over it by talking to someone

New,

But it hasn’t helped me yet.

My heart is yearning for the turning of the tides,

When things will go my way and I will be happy.

But sometimes the hunger gnaws at my stomach

And I have to go away and make little green paper.

The little green paper helps me buy food.

It is a treat to my stomach.

I wish it wasn’t so, but it is in the minds of the government

To make it so and I cannot stand up to the masses.

I’m sorry, my love, but my love for you is not so great

That I am willing to risk the goodness of food in my

Belly.

My heart yearns for the yeast bread, the doughnuts,

The veggies and greens.  I am aching, my love,

To hold you in my heart and in my heart you will

Remain, because I am too scared to give up this

Thing called food.  I must go.

THE NIGHT.

The Night

The calm is like the night.

My eyes are bitter as a storm.

This dream seems to be neverending.

Nothing is caught in the web.

I have not heard or seen it in a dream,

This web I have made myself.

I am caught in it, help!  I have made

Myself appear bitter in the eyes of others.

I do not see bliss as a mode of myself.

I do not see time as a way to heal things.

Once something is broken it is broken.

You cannot heal it now or then.

When you miss something you miss it forever.

Sometimes hearts and minds cannot be shaped

To be what you wish.

I hear the echo in the wind.  Sometimes it makes me

Think of you.

There’s a void in my heart that you left,

A long time ago when I had dreams,

But now I have none and I don’t care.

The lesson is not in the dreaming.

I don’t care what others perceive of me.

Sometimes you just have to let things go.

I have not awakened to the time of things.

Dreams are broken now, they are like yesterday.

MY DEAR ROBIN.

Robin

The robin was throwing leaves

Out of the water

As if he were picking up trash

On the side of a highway

Some people like to pick up

Trash and I hail those kinds

Of people

As if they were the only

People living on this faithless

Planet

This planet that throws animals

And people away like they

Are nothing and

I can see why most people

Act like they are nothing

And will be nothing

Until the day they

Are buried in a cemetery

With its hard tombstones

And flowers strewn

About like radishes

Animals making nests

In bushes put in by

The caretaker

And family members leaving

Flowers by their graves

When I die I want someone

To pick up trash in my memory

As if I hadn’t done it at all

During my lifetime

Maybe I should start doing it now.

Just like the robin.

THIRSTY.

THIRSTY

He is thirsty in a way that other people

Are not thirsty and have no desire for thirst

Once he was on an island in the middle

Of a vast ocean that had no name

But someone had named it a long time ago

And someone else thought that was pretty special

Do you know what I think is pretty special?
Finding out something is better than you expected,

Like folding laundry.

He is thirsty.  His nerves are shattered.

He takes things and holds them in his arms

Maybe a puppy or some kind of pillow

That holds his head at night.

But I wouldn’t wonder at self-sacrifice.

That seems almost like a sacrifice.

AS WE KNOW IT.

As We Know It

Life as we know it is strangely misshapen into a pair

Of oxymorons that cannot be escaped or obtained.

Destruction has a mind of its own and creates craters

Where there are none.

Everything is simply solidified into broken parts,

Strewn onto the highways of doubt.

It’s something I don’t know the answer to.

I don’t know the answer to anything,

About the green grass growing or the time of day.

I don’t know who created the sundial or why it

Was created.

I don’t understand the simplicity of anything.

In the dreams of our kind, we strive to be better

Than yesterday, but some people are already there

And I envy them the way a crocodile envies an ice

Cream cone on a long hot day at work.

Strewn about the highway of self-doubt.

Strewn about the occurrences of yesterday.

I am beginning to think about the tides of things

And how light bends and waves.

Destruction is self-annihilation. 

Learn to better yourself in the process.