Dreams
a man marches to jerusalem. he carries a spear and a sword. hes armed for
combat in the most holy crusade. led by a priest. a messenger for god. and
he wonders why.
why are we killing? why are the women raped? these my fellow men come to save
their souls. only tainting them with blood and sex. the children are left
orphans. children of god who cannot even rely on their father to save them.
they meet on the plains. man against man. army against army. staring into
the eyes of their fellow children of god. just a different god. so we're
killing them. as spears begin to fly and metal blades hit flesh. blood
soaked fields of dust. i kneel and pray. to god. to stop this bloodshed. to
save these people. and save my soul for being a part of this madness. and
save my life so that i may see my wife and children again. and as i pray a
spear pierces my heart. and my prayer is answered. by no one.
# # #
i sit and watch the smoke rise
its ghostly celestial form directed by the winds
leaving the burning ashes of its dead body behind.
a legend
of an ancient woodland tribe
who believed each tree had a spirit
and when the tree died
that spirit needed to be released
so they would gather all dead wood
and burn it
and watched as the soul danced in a jubilee of fire
then slowly made their way
up toward the heavens
until they -- the smoke
faded into the wind
never to be seen again.
i stare at some pictures
of a spirit i once knew
free and alive
burning
fire.
trying to remember
the warmth of her smile
the heat of her embrace
longing to be touched once more
just to know it was real
so i can cry.
# # #
twin peaks spiralling in my head
dancing spinning ballerina
round and round
a step...movement...beautiful
opening like a may flower.
out in the darkness
wandering.
a candle flickers in the window
an old man rocks in a chair
entranced by the dancing of the flame
outside in the snow
forest creatures gather in silence
watching the flickering light
reflections on the snow.
the old man watches the fire
the dance of the flames
movement...a ballerina...his wife
longing to hold her once again
alive with fire...ballerina
slowly she fades
moving into the smoke and away
the rocking stops
he smiles then closes his eyes
the animals outside stay in silence
until the dawn
when the flower crumbles to dust.
# # #
crying some nights
sleeping others
candle lit cigarette burning
smoke lifting hanging around the lamp
crying myself to sleep
shes still out there
somewhere
not caring not bothering about me
the freak
alone in her room
the jazz filling my ears moving over my body
like id like her to
gone.
so gone -- already. so soon.
and i miss her.