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Spring Runs cold and dim Upon slick black roads Through optimism’s Still beating heart Spring Is vile and bitter The bane of frail skin Off-color and dead Spring is a lush A hate-ridden fool Never sparing us a moment In the kind rays of old
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Certainly their friends are alive and well Boasting and bubbling In the passing shelter of youth They’ll survive To stock the new eras With the glittering spires Bound, to puncture the skies They are meant To plunder and breathe While the downtrodden scrounge And scrap for their peace And all will be well In perfect…
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A heavy silence remains Once the worthwhile songs Have deserted the mind In a flash of sorrow
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Contact Rattles the world Into bright red shards Sent slicing Through an accidental breeze Skidding, along In a silent scream Life spirals and raves In a deathly swan-dive Disorderly and dazed In blood ravines Slouched for the long fall The weary lights shine In a solemn goodbye As the sirens call To clear the remains…
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Scrambling the week’s affairs Beneath quivering skies Ablaze and frantic Sprawled out, dumbstruck In a haze of cheap emotions The spawn of a torrential swig All the moments take hold Of the nightly currents To meet the broad shores Of a placid new dawn And all the cruel moments Are hammered away Into the crisp…
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I have yet to begin To stun, to amaze To draw the raging ire Of space and time I have yet to be involved
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Overrun By foreign concerns Engulfed By their distant wrath It grows First snails pace Then all around In menacing Horrible abundance Until nothing more Can be forced from your lungs
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Through an early spell of fog Daylight spills Yielding, its affection For the cold drab ground For all But the faintest of travelers Disheveled, indisposed and far Through and through In spite of the failing shadows He remains the free-falling wreck A slow-crumbling shard Exiled From the binds Of his former skin He lives on…
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Beloved Emboldened Firm The lights of my eyes Flourish And thrive among strangers Among the boastful many Who coast in freeform Beyond, the corners of my sight Briefly beloved To the pavement’s end I’m the passing bloom That wavers In the maw of each dusk
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