I Am the World that Hides...
Still falls the rain,
the veils of darkness shroud the blackened trees,
which contorted by some unseen violence,
shed their tired leaves,
and bend their boughs towards a grey earth of severed bird wings.
Among the grasses,
poppies bleed before a gesticulating death,
and young rabbits,
born dead in traps,
stand motionless,
as though guarding the silence that surrounds and threatens to engulf all those that would listen.
Mute birds,
tired of repeating yesterdays terrors,
huddle together in the recesses of dark corners,
heads turned from the dead,
black swan that floats upturned in a small pool in the hollow.
There emerges from this pool a faint sensual mist,
that traces its way upwards to caress the chipped feet of the headless martyr's statue,
whose only achievement was to die to soon,
and who couldn't wait to lose.
The cataract of darkness form fully,
the long black night begins,
yet still,
by the lake a young girl waits,
unseeing she believes herself unseen,
she smiles,
faintly at the distant tolling bell,
and the still falling rain.
My Laughing Heart
your life is your lifedon’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
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