It
Paints a pretty picture
Hang it on the wall
No one there to see me
No one there to greet me
I'm left all alone
All alone
Nowhere left to go
No one there to catch me
When I fall
The paint starts to crack
The frame breaks in half
Time passes by
The brightness goes away
And all that's left
Is a petty shell
Of myself
And I'm all alone
All alone
Nowhere left to go
No one there to catch me
When I fall
Running down the hallway
Fleeing from myself
Go through a certain doorway
And into my own hell
No one there to greet me
No one notices the
Flower one the wall
Standing all alone
All alone
Nowhere left to go
No one there to catch me
When I fall
SHATTERED MIRROR, BROKEN SOUL (2005)top
Fleeing from you
Fleeing from myself
Nowhere left to go
Nowhere left to hide
You've got me backed in a corner
Nowhere left to hide
Nowhere left to go
Scared and shaking
All alone
Don't make me angry
You don't want to make me angry
Now, you've done it
You've lost your chance
Forever
You have yelled
And you have screamed
Time and time again
Now there's no turning back
You have pulled the last straw
You've shattered a broken mirror
And all that's left
Are bits of glass and silver
That slice your flesh
The more you beat it
The more you bleed
Until the blood's all gone
And there's nothing left
But a memory
That I'll banish from my thoughts
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
That's all you'll be
The fires of Hell
Will burn brighter
With you in their grasp
Because the mirror was me
And I held the key
To your salvation
"For what you do
to the least of these
you do to Me."
But what did you do
In all your pain
And all your hurt?
You broke me and you beat me
You threw me away
And now you pay
With your eternity
I told you you'd chose where you'd go
And you have
There's no going back.
WHO AM I? BETWEEN— (2006)top
Stuffed animal eyes looking at me,
What do they see
Through those small glass orbs
Full of memory
I’ve stowed away there
Over the years?
What child is this?—
No child, woman—
No woman, child—
Which is it? Can they tell?
Not I.
A schism divides
The past from the present
The bed from the shelf
Who knows what falls between?
A pen, a pencil, a toothbrush,
A feather, a soul…what difference?
Lost is lost; time stands still.
Suspended.
Snow falls down around.
A little glass globe—no, plastic, really—
Filled with tears, see thru
To the other side. How far it is,
How close, so magnified!
A little jump, a shake, makes all the difference…
—on the other side.
THE TEENAGE MASK (2006)top
The fake cheese in the refrigerator,
So processed,
Malleable as plastic, melting thickly smooth
On a hamburger that has no ham
Nor beef but soy—
Not a meat at all.
I see the plastic faces in the hallway,
Cellophane masks,
And some grotesque expression behind them
Showing through;
I see you,
Are you real?
LABOR PAINS (2005)top
There is no pain like mine;
Struggling to birth
A wonder premature.
No force of will
Can push the ink from the pen
Any more than the paper will draw out the words
From the fountain tip.
No, the thing must come full term
Or else it comes deformed,
Scorned by critics all.
AUTUMN TRUTH (2006)top
Hollow bones
Hollow leaves
Scattered all around
Don’t you see? Don’t you see?
The buzzards coming down?
Bite the bones
Bite the dust
Carry ‘way if you must
Fight the fire
Free the flame
Of what is sacred
And profane
Burning through our human hearts
Lighting up the darkest parts
For uncertain scrutiny
Light up all for all to see.
YOU AGAIN (2006)top
Don’t use that word, justified;
I’ll not have it.
Some puffed up parrot, a boasting buffoon
With the cellophane mask;
I see right through you.
I see the planks in your eye, my eye.
Nothing going. Can’t remove it.
Not a pair of tweezers big enough.
Don’t get me involved;
I didn’t ask it.
Some grimy classroom window, one-way mirror
Out looking in just fine,
In looking out not so great.
Hear voices dripping venom back, back, back
Say it to the face, coward
Lying, sneaking, thieving, cloven-hoof.
Don’t lie to me and say you love me;
I’ll not be fooled.
Some dead cafeteria in early morning, slaughtered
By double-edged conversation; fill the space with silence
I’m listening; you don’t hear me.
Nice leather smell; what cow’d you kill?
I see blood on the coat collar,
Smudge it off would you? No couth.
Don’t think I’m as blind as that;
I feel it coming, should you?
Some cold blue doors snap shut, trapped again I see
So pompous, so blind; are you deaf too?
I reject you.
Just a little bit bitter maybe?
Try again; you don’t exist.
SARAH AND PENN WARREN (2006)top
What am I but nothing
Centered in a disillusioned mass?
A canker in my mouth
Spewing forth false answers; I don’t believe.
What would you have me say—
That George chewed bread angels because
His wife the acrobat fell and died?
The cold blue lights blind me as
The rat or bird or whatever scuttles in the
Air conditioner, but it’s really
An airhead
Like the Great Twitch is really just
A spasm in the old man’s face—
What else?
Syntax, diction, oh, very good!
How beautiful those words seem
On the glaring overhead, written in
Fuzzy blue ink!
Yeah, right.
I make up a sentence and you eat it up—
Like honey—how sweet!
How vile it tastes in my mouth;
I cannot swallow, only vomit
And you devour it…dogs.
PHYSICS WITH THE COLONEL (2006)top
Staring at the board again.
Nothing left to do.
My brain’s rotting out my ear;
I can feel it dying.
Some small challenge of deciphering
The scribble on the wall nearly
Keeps me alive.
Nearly so.
Not quite.
Ring the bell, play the gong.
Funeral’s over; we’re done.
(life’s resurrection power)
MASSACRE (2007)top
Cruel words boil in my throat and
Steam rises from my lips: venom,
Slices through your flesh,
Cutting wounds that never heal
And only ooze more poison.
You sever another with your
Sharp tongue, infecting, and
They spew forth puss.
Together, we Three,
Bitterness, Hatred, Envy,
Shall make such a Massacre!
STAMPEDE AFTER FOURTH (2005)top
The bell rings and doors slam open
The floor rumbles beneath my feet
And I press against the wall.
The cattle spew out, rushing out of the doors like water
A stampede of a thousand pairs of feet
trampling down the hallway
crushing, squashing, yelling, screaming;
jibber-jabber fills my ears
pounding in my skull.
The meat rushes by, herded by the drivers,
teachers in the hall.
The students stream out to lunch,
the library, back to class.
The moments pass.
The hallways clear
and I sigh.
I must get my books.
A SERIES IN PURPLE INK: ODE TO A PURPLE PEN (2005)top
Sitting in the sun
watching cars go by
As I wait
scribbling in pen,
a series in purple ink
of myself.
The sun goes down
and I'm waiting
as the sky bleeds
to death.
I wait
scribbling in purle ink.
The gress burns
in the evening light,
a field of blazing fire
blown by the wind.
The tress shiver
as night's inky blackness
sets upon them,
clothing them in darkness
as I wait,
drawing a series in purple ink.
The stars come out
to light my paper,
those pinpricks of silver in the well.
A grey dawn approaches
and I'm nearly done
with my series in purple ink.
I set the pen down,
looking at my Self
that stares out
from a glowing landscape
brought to life by purple ink.
I'm done waiting
as the Sun, white and cold,
welcomes a new day
and the end of
a series in purple ink.
Other Stuffs:
Ode to a Friend
