This is the graffetti of my mind!

 

A Tear Falls

 

Drip
Drip
sounds the incessant drain
from the cup of life, a cup held
in hands calloused by toil
and limp in anticipation of failure.
Numb to hearing, we are unable to correct
babes crying their last breaths
into famine's skirts
pulled tight, washed in disease
and cast into war, rolling in caissons
painted over with religious incons,
grinding the pulp of man
extruding life which falls from the cup
drip
drip.

 

 

Seasons

New growth in springtime
awake from night's enternal realm
babe to boyhood dreams

Bud to bloom and mate
procreate and bring forth new
hail the summer's kiss

Autumn leaves browning
an old mans hands reaching out
both toward winter

Life now dormant hides
in days coming fast and cold
rushing to an end

 

 

The eye of god

The eye of god sets unblinking,
staring into the lives of man
which sprawl before it,
in glorious debauchery,
that has been man's story through history.
Written in blood
upon the sands of time,
with no loss of tears falling
for a brother lost or sister soiled.
The eye of god does not turn away
when next lust spreads
on table tops or in back seats of cars
driven by children, having children,
then hating themselves and each other.
When in gangs, bang
bangers home, sent in disrespect
of efforts spent
to buy them a chance to be more.
The eye of gods sings and dances
in unreal myth spreading the shit
that makes believers of us,
when over the rainbow we fly
only to end in swamps at 6 o'clock,
and resurrected again by 9.
When jingles, jangle the nerves,
takes two aspirin to calm, that which
was good to the last drop, then plop
some life is spread out again,
stretched in ways obscene,
viewed but ask why
not just let pass by, turn it off
and read a book.

 

 

 

Butterflies

When man demands without reason,
the price is paid by sweet butterflies
caught at the intersection,
broken beneath the boots of atrocity
'till rumors and foul winds stir the wings
which will never fly again.
Then, lives stolen for life
in fights so long waged,
that the prize too is the casualty,
we, wrapped smug in sin
leave only the scream of butterflies
to ride the wind.

 

 

 

Dawn Breaks

A lightning sky cracks
in thunderous ovation
of dawns return. Slink
not as feline stock
with eye lids locked on slumbers gate.
When natures chorus rejoices,
returned from pre-dawn intermission
with a cacophony of crickets, frogs, birds and bugs
enjoyed, they spread jam upon the loaf.
Now begins opportunity to grow,
experiencing anew, un-jaded by yesterdays lashes,
the choices to be made
and all the while the crickets sing.

 

 

First Hunt

Amid the mist, cold, perched
death with his grasp,
dead as the wood beneath his feet
and at the back
which left in decay, standing among the living
to shroud, in still breaths
that unfulfilled itch
caught in a vulture's hover
waiting for the guest of honor.
Still, broken by the morning rush of sun
filling the valley, leaping from tree top to tree top
a thief stealing the patches of shadow, kisses of night.
Movement - rustle - stop
start
stop again
step, wary of the breeze,
stocked now by death.
Then the moment, locked, prey and predator
in family joined of those things living,
a marvel of existence. When
Thor swings and releases
to bring the communion to end
leaving one dead
who didn't know it.

 

 

Gifts

Of all the gifts awarded me
and 'bout my neck be hung
non so precious or so fleeting
as hugs from my son

Or daughters eyes, which search for mine
when hooded with doubt and fear
relax and smile, begin to sing
in knowing I am near

For at their feet I place my self
all futures and the past
to purchase joy and laughter sweet
for long as it may last

'till when they finally venture forth
my time as teacher done
and find themselves some night
with daughter or a son

Then flair up within,
burning in their breast
a love to destroy all cost to self
their gift to innocence.

 

 

Mind's eye

Within the mind of god
swim dreams unseen
by bloated bigots
walking thight ropes
into eternity.
Yet passions burns
kindled by sweat
running down
backs
and between
breasts
which thrust blind
youth
lost to hate
ignorance and
poverty of the soul
which murders all hope
strangling the dreams
swimming in the mind of god.



Return to My bio page



 

This page hosted by get your own Free home page