Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Insomnia

Lost and Sleepless in the valley of desire
which runs so deep as to blacken out
the rays of the sun

engulfed in wanting 
I trudge through trenches
of mucky thoughts
and muddled wishes

There are no footholds
no rails
only spiraling and sinking
predispositions and plans

tied to one ankle
an anchor heavy with dreams
to struggle less is to allow sleep
to overcome

and when that darkness come
still no rest will be had
only infinite desires
in the black black night

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Remembrance

how strange memory is...
like a sheet of thin linen
draped over ones eyes
like a warm ghost
passing through thought
like a SoCal breeze
dripping in color

memory forever glazes the present with your past.
it is something like a paper with all its characters brutally erased;
yet one can still see that markings were once present.
what is left is merely an imprint of what once was
a fleeting thought
a vivid sense
a bottled impulse

staining the walls of unconsciousness with its pungent aroma 

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Over your head

You wade out into the water.
waste deep you feel safe,
enveloped and cradled by it's salty sway.

that is until the gentle current turns ugly,
and the violent strokes swipe at your feet
so that you spiral downward into its unholy arms

then suddenly you feel its cold fingers gripping around your neck
squeezing the air out of your chest with tied hands
choking you down with a mineral smile;
unable to break the surface of its undertow,
you struggle to breathe

and it allows you just enough air to survive, but not enough to keep you sane
you fight it and fight it... but there is no existence above water
in fact there is nothing else any more
except for this inescapable tank we call a life.




Thursday, February 7, 2013

Busy

No more busy signals
they are obsolete
instead the opportunity to bare your heart and soul...
in a byte they will delete

to be deleted
to be ignored
to be rejected
to be deplored

Id rather hear that persistent clang
that assures me they are busy
than feel the slow persistent pang
of knowing they purposefully missed me