Thursday, October 30, 2014

A Shooting Star But On Entry Crackles

Was a fine young man with prospects seeming
Better than most, oh his soul was so
But the fists were tight and the time was claiming
And power itself was his ardent foe
And it with right too toe to toe
And a man so set is set for shackles
As an iron cast or a diamond low
Here a shooting star but on entry crackles

And passion here is of briefest flaming
There is no love in the cynic's soul
In a liar's land it's all poor aiming
How the arrow turns on the quivering bow
It's a hard descent and a burning glow
On the laws of life how our ideals rattle
Though we rave and rant with the like who'd crow
Here a shooting star but on entry crackles

The alien mind's too unique for teaming
And he did he did, and to see it lo
How the best of him went on contact gleaming
To char at last in a brilliant show
Another victory for the present flow
And the ideologues who are always jackals
They were cackling as they always do
Here a shooting star but on entry crackles

So know, just know, and know, just know
Some formulas are too tough to tackle
And quite especially from down below
A shooting star on entry crackles
And on earth that's simply how it goes

Friday, October 17, 2014

Cede Not To Bitterest Twistings

Adjust to the light of the times
Slump to the height of the land
Forsake your pleasanter rhymes
Under benevolent hands
Destined to lose all our color
Before it is ready to go
Reflect we the shade of a lover
Down with the flux of the glow
Seek in the simplest wisdom
Solace that speaks of a truth
Cede not to bitterest twistings
Thy lushest grace with thy youth

Sunday, October 5, 2014

How It's True We Fit So Fine

Broken, fractured, broken in a funny way
Beauty, sheer beauty is your major trait
Broken, splintered by our kind of petty hate
Thinking's lesser, let your heart have its say
Lost years, somewhere, long ago you had a face
Beauty, sheer beauty, and a major fault
Middle, down the middle ran a river called
Sorrow, sadness, tragedy infused with grace
Calling, beck'ning, did you by a fluid voice
Every fiber of my being ran your way
And running, still, children somehow in our play
Loving, living, ever like we had a choice
Always, simply, always will you have my heart
Collected, despite heavy and coarse convolution
Loved through, so much, through it flows our absolution
Pond'ring, absorbing all that's been and all we art
Hynotized by every angle of design
Broken, fractured, were we and we couldn't see
How our jagged souls might someday come to be
Linking, locking, how it's true we fit so fine

Saturday, September 27, 2014

An Almost Lady Lost

Deepest run the tears of human wanting
Left as etchings on the stone they left you
Soulless bones, gnawed down to barest haunting
As far as it gets them their wealth will get you
To each idea pregnant with obsoletion
And every idle theme and fiction screening
But never to the sense of faint completion
So craved by higher cells that 'ssemble meaning
The satin that they stained is always with you
The marks they placed took something from you each
The spot in life you got that never fit you
Imparted to you outlooks seldom reached
But pilfered from you basic obligations
Deprived from you, so settled in you first
A rage spurred on by scorning's twin starvation
Who spawns functions of man which yield the worst
Turned back upon a species that would damn you
And even who accept no less do shun
And they who couldn't bear to understand you
Or love you, are no different in their sum
Distinct now are you in your cold indifference
Exsolved from all the souls that tinge the race
Far too far to hear, let alone listen
Or linger on the substance of your case
Willing to be probed by all who find you
Fine to be dissolved for all your pigment
Not minded, but a lesson for who mind you
In homes, in lives, in poems where you're a figment

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Perennial Perplexity

Too callow is the mind and data tall
To make good sense of anything at all
Hurling defined darts at fuzzy specters
Lifting random words from random lectures
Preying on the plumage of the hour
Unclear who'd be willfully devoured
Substituting truth with the subjective
Wondering where a soul becomes elective
Stretching circles into malformed squares
Gleaning more than our allotted shares
Reading from a caption marked concision
Staring at a sky that veils its mission
And what is right, I've not the faintest clue
And where to go, I swear that once I knew

Friday, September 12, 2014

Two Faces

There is something in the silence here that quells that human ache
I rebound through the nothingness, by pressure's ebb it breaks
The mind is but a wave upon a mad magician's screen
Assembling things half understood by yesterday's half-dreams
In every joy, in every thought, perspective has its turn
And in the life of all that's built, dwells something else that burns
Janus is the god of Earth, there is no other deity
Just borrowed lies in blandest times from contemporaneity
And echoes of a progress men can hardly come to harness
Interred within the rubble of your murderers and martyrs
The roots of which are deeper than your chic and shallow ideals
Masked by tangled language but technically just flywheels
In all their silly slogans encrypted I note a murmur
Of a weighty undertow that drowns out all their misplaced fervor
For even in rare metals that encase the race's magic
There is something hidden still that seems so destined for the tragic

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Pray Fall Too Sweet Seeds Into Tomorrow

The days are eating at the root
Invasive to the soul
Purer than the world
Withering, flaking, fading out the color
Consumed
By my existence
Oppressive as the shroud
Heavy as the gloom
Darker than the death
Of insignificant things
Of trifling matters
And simpler natures
And verdant beauty
At the root quite homely
Unsophisticated
Puzzlingly unpuzzling
Empty like the head unfed
Surrendering its logic
To the more impressive
In its selection
Yet how undiscerning is it in itself
And each inspired creation
Oh every ramification
Multiplying thought
Answers nihil
The tree seems but a skeleton now
Perhaps some day a stump
Whither are thy refulgent blossoms
Thy charming florets
Thy better parts
Thy higher limbs once hallowed
Falling is my glory
Gone the fibrous network, so delicate, cerebral
Buried by the earth
Swallowed by the cold
Feeding on our love
Oh, pray fall too sweet seeds
To feed the famished
To thaw the frozen
To shade the blistered
To salve the sorrow, to blunt the harshness, to take even bits away
From the all pervasive blight
Whose rotten scent, whose twisted sense, whose all-encompassing milieu
Mark the hollowest of eras
Who creeps into and out of anything
And takes through life from life but everything
Must nothing of it come?
Oh, pray fall too sweet seeds into tomorrow
Into the heart, into some being
Fall