I spend a many sleepless night
waitng for the dawn
Listening for the birds to sing
their sweet Good-morning song

As sunshine filters through the shade
I rise to meet the day
Trying to forget the dreams
I fought to chase away

Though the hours seem to creep
night soon begins to fall
And thus I am alone again
Facing midnight's call

Bitches
A single uttered word from my mouth
  Sets off the howls and moans
  In ironic testimony 
As I continue on my route

A single spoken syllable of sound
  Shatters the haughty silence
  Of contemptous glares
Unleashing two she-hounds

A geyser of laughter that won't subside
  Dislodged from my gut
  By a frenzied flash of indifference
Follows me in my casual stride

Diary:
desecrated
its fresh white
pages
with nothingness
poured out in streams 
of regretful words
pushed them
through my veins 
through my pen
out onto those
pristine sheets
sqeezed
each thought
between those
evenly spaced
lines
defiling 
with the resonance 
of my empty 
soul 
pretty pictures 
stare from its cover
with children's eyes
masking 
the blackness 
with bright colors
saccharine sweetly
gazing back
forced myself upon 
those neatly bound 
pages 
regurgitated
secret angers
from within
consuming their simple 
joy
in all things clean
drenched
each crisp page
with the stench
of dark crevices 
of the heart
drifting
floating listlessly
from depression
to apathy
unloading
the weight of 
one hundred
silent sins
of the soul
bravely they shouldered
burdens
not their own
pushed out
to form 
coherent scribbles 
that mar
these sheets
pages consumed 
by blackness
testimony to
each moment
of self pity
becoming part
of my soul
casting them aside
with disgust
newly directed
on innocent 
fibers
once their virgin 
whiteness
shocked my eyes
bore through 
my flesh
my soul
to send their
message of hope
into the deark
now blackness
repulses
still stare at
pretty picture
regarding me
wtih death's eyes
painted across
its cover
serving as
a gateway
a mask of joy
to hide
despair
leading to 
the ugly innards
of my mind 
demons
from my gut
devour the purity
once found
in clean crisp paper

The oven's hot
with the smell of cornbread
we stand like so many fluff stuffed
redhaired ragdolls

The jigsaw lady enters
her black hair is oil slick
her teeth are yellow

she sticks pieces of herself
into each one

Pieces and pieces
poked and pushed
here and there
pieces falling on the cement floor

deep embedded
in hard doll-like flesh

stinging constant singing pain

we all prop-up in
tea party chairs
smiling, eating
hot cornbread dripping butter
with the jigsaw lady.

Dreaming Of The Future

Fog rolls down
The silent river
Probing hidden places
Along the bank.

Waters quietly fall
Past ghostly branches
While fish dart
Among the rushes.

My mind wanders
Through memories
Touching close ones
Recalling forgotten emotions
Dreaming of the future