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I’m not alone in this voyage To the absolute depths When every horizon is afire With faltering ships
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Was I rushed into the pale dying light Too soon Or perhaps I was dragged too late Into this strain of the present? My witless old soul, It comes and it goes, in strange intervals With a trail of eras never known I regard them as home in one moment Losing their way in the…
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Forever running low On steam, on resolve As friends, parade into valor Growing ill and discouraged At the trails of the fallen I’ll soon be among them Their swollen and silenced forms Swept aside, for the climb of the horizon If pity should flood into me Marrow deep Extinguishing, the arrogance of youth I will…
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Like a pierced sheet of glass A span of silence is shattered By a saxophone’s liberating blast An uprising blazes to life As fearless notes March from the breach of diligent horns Off to battle To the improvised clatter of madmen To the beautiful chaos they unfold To the undying uproar of praise That rings…
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Never let the well of your words Grow parched from worry Guard it, from the flare of self-doubt
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Downtown There lives a bundle of nerves Buzzing, with the talk of the day With the half-cooked tales Of the bedridden, bored and fatigued So easily skewered Through his thin-plated armor He merely, wallows in the storm Until the slanderous winds, die down Fight it or fly The former seems foreign So he spears through…
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The lights are on at home But a vagrant is digging through the silence Leaving watchful friends, none the wiser An evil is troubling the stillness Gathering The few scattered scraps of triumph I’ve earned Ever since my silent withdrawal Unaware, of the ghoulish crusade The lights beam on forever Since I’ve tumbled down the…
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His frame of mind is stark Against the blue swathes of summer The well-guarded secret of a cast-iron smile But he pays no regard to his unrest The flames, lashing from within “Never mind, The ever-present ache of your truth” He must forge on Through the far and wide beauty Defying, the fumes The steady…
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What will I become? A peddler of cliched relics? Full of lukewarm sonnets That will fade unreceived? Where must I stall? At some worn-down peak Where the whole world has stormed Before, I’ve even set out to climb? Dried out A defeatist And far from recognition Friends and foes Will take to the streets In…
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