lucky 13
31 but I see
the perfect representation
of what it means to free
that little boy caged
like a curse
relieved
in the back of a hearse
lucky 13, reversed
over time, it’s easy to see
at 31 years old
that boy was me
Home » Posts tagged 'thoughts' (Page 48)
Tag Archives: thoughts
peaches
An idea
fosters questions.
And questions
raise ideas.
Picked like peaches,
pickled and peppered,
in sealed mason jars,
upon dusty wood shelf
buried in a garage that smells
of gasoline, and summer.
Where as kids playing nerf
we never raised such questions
not having any idea
of the hungry beast out there
waiting, sharpening its claws
using our parents as dental floss,
grooming its teeth, and ready
for the day
it too, could devour our peaches.
fears of men
The fears of men
are as trivial as
children, picking children in gym,
they never change
they just get bigger.
an open coffin.
There will always be poverty
and powerless men, who feel nothing
towards people just trying to exist.
Believe it or not it was a club to join,
Till 1955,
all it took, was a .45 colt, a river, a fan.
But it (is) not that world anymore, is it?
I want to say no, but Jackson’s slaying of elderly men?
Born of the same bullet that lay Evers dead.
It’s enough to make you want to blind your eyes, it’s enough to know better than to blind your soul.
So as there will always be poverty and powerless men,
there must never be closed,
an open coffin.
one day
It’s odd, how so much can happen in a day.
It’s sad and almost surreal, really. You can spend so much time
waiting, and healing. Then one day, it’s over.
A little wink to Kurt
Time to sink back
to the far side of the moon?
Nah, this soil will do.
So it goes.
you’re ugly?
If you
can be
comfortable
with you’re ugly,
you can be
everything
they said
you weren’t.
your dying
Did you burn yourself out
like a flame wick under wax?
Or were you just here for the holiday?
Is that why you smelled vanilla?
I don’t have a match that’s long enough
to strike you from this far,
with another year upon us.
I just kind of smelled your dying.
Her beauty
Her beauty was ultimately marred
by my incessant need for her beauty.
I wished to tell her she need not try so hard,
though knew this to be, ultimately futile.
I even coaxed her with a juicy red apple once,
just to slow her down.
But she explained fairly how she didn’t like apples,
or huntsman, but preferred mirrors
because they spoke to her in words
that were not forced but honest.
She looked at me and asked, is it so hard for a frog to see her beauty could never have the power to transform anything more than its own fading?
And that no kiss could stop time,
that fairy tales are real, but only the Grimm ones.
Let me show you, she said, and taking my lips in hers, sweet like berries
I watched her turn to dust through the stained glass light of morning.
ether/or
some
are on a quest
to disappear.
no matter
how high you climb
or help them,
they will one day rise
past the clouds
and dissipate
into the ether —
as a mother weeps
cradling her newborn.
Words Of An Average White Male 