TORCH-LIT PYRE

Empty and cold
Full and warm
These are emotions and states
That overwhelm me
They wax and wane with the
Passing of the days

A fool amongst idiots am I
Not a neurosurgeon
Not an ambassador
Nor Noble winner amidst my
Fellow mankind
Simple and quaintly born
To parents far too young to provide me
With a decent clean childhood

My Catholic education was a veil
And saving grace to give me a few steps
further along stepping stones of
Intelligence and scholarly will
People fight adversity and odds
From every angle and every which way

I never used my upbringing as a crutch
Moreover, it was fodder and fuel to fight
And maintain this eternal torch-lit pyre

BUTTERFLY WINGS

I feel like my legs
are made of butterfly wings
Pretty and colorful,
thin and torn easily
Break at the sight, or the sound
of unfavorable winds.

No wonder a butterfly
Lives a rather brief
existence

SIDE LINES

I stare at the words you use
And the face you make
Old stale smoke from my lungs
A habit that should have abandoned
Moons and eons ago

There's beauty to silence
And warm winter hums
Of an old heater thermostat
And neglected cobweb dust

The tree is glowing
I look forward to coming home
And turning it on
Its purple tinsel glow casts shadows
Diamonds that dazzle the walls

It doesn't cost a lot
to make me happy
I put myself through a lot to
Earn the decency of pride


Three years come and go in a crazy flurry
Winter blisters the cold castaway's eyes
I wish we could be friends,
its never that easy
Still I admire your craft
By the edge of sidelines

CHRISTMAS EVE

That Christmas Tree's glow
Keeps me awake
The heater hums through the
Stillness of our home

The dog is asleep
Nestled between sheets
And no one knows
How my brain is on hyper speed

In a panic frenzy
The things that must be done
Before the world shuts down
For forty-eight hours or more

Will I get to heaven?
Will I get to sleep?
What will be served to eat
Between all the family feasts

Stirring from my bed
And bending at the knees
It's 3am on the morn of Christmas Eve
And I'm afraid to go back to sleep

BROKEN, BLED AND USED

Broke, bled and bruised
Victims of yesterdays news
Breaking in and dying confused
Drowning in coal and oil's crude

Clawing from the wood overhead
The veil so daintily displayed
The shock and crash your dismay
Governor hordes cards worth playing

Broke bled and bruised
You're cheated, lied to and used
Played by the piper as fools
Penalized for breaking the rules

TONGUES ON HOLD

We birds in flight
Still looking to be free
Tear through our cages of
Gilded debris

Forever in flight
We try to find our way
Roaming through the night
As Love-punished slaves

As we continue to fight
The crashes become drones
Dulled from the time
The memories unfold

Toward Flickering lights
We Hide within the folds
Those secrets kept
Our tongues on hold