Category: Poetry

Mourning

Tonight
I am mourning
the death of dreams.

I set them away
from the light of day;
I laid them to rest
in a back alley –
discarded pieces.

I’m done with these dreams.
I no longer need them to lull
me away with sweet lullabies.

It doesn’t mean I won’t miss them,
that I didn’t feel
the crunch of disassembled bricks,
that the separations didn’t
reek of screams.

Tonight, a dream died, crying
“Save me”
And I whispered
“No”
Crying.

I’m selling off my LEGO collection. I’m moving in different artistic directions, and my LEGO collection no longer meets my main interests or fulfills me as it once did. I’m saying goodbye to my dreams of building custom LEGO creations. It’s a sad day, and I think appropriately so. It doesn’t mean that I’m making an incorrect decision; there is no right or wrong here. But letting something meaningful go is a death. It’s a separation, an ending. And it is right to mourn such things, to see them off. That’s what this poem is all about: laying dreams to Rest In Peace.

All our lives we are told to chase dreams, and encouraged to achieve them at all costs. We are never told how to lay aside dreams that don’t serve us, or that aren’t achievable. We aren’t taught to mourn the passage of important things in this way, and to reorient ourselves towards what is better, or next. That is a failing. Life is always in motion, and them what can’t move with it are doomed to bitterness. Better to taste the sweetness of what is now, and to be ready to lay it aside for what is next in eagerness, than to chase something you can’t catch.

Today I am watching one dream die, and tonight I will sleep, and see what dreams may come.

Confluence

Just beyond the fence,
where I dump the dog shit,
there is a little ravine.
And beyond that:
railroad tracks.

One goes nowhere,
except down to fertilize;
and the other goes
everywhere out of sight
in either direction.

I like the confluence
of dog shit and railroads.
One is meant for reclamation;
the other about the same,
spray-painted with “ANUS FARTS”.

Eventually we all end up
wasting into the ground
to be reborn into something.
And where the railroad ends?
There the train starts anew.

Thoughts

Sitting in the semi
dark, music pumping
in the skulls, I think

(Wish for the same old
same old, same old…)

black thoughts. Rage simmers deep
for all that I’ve gained
for all that I’ve lost.

It’s all the same to me.

I’m older now, and that means
nothing that it should.

My sword rusts from slaying
mist daemons born in
the same acidic rain
that burns through my brain
melting memory and ‘motions.

I’m at the end of myself,
but judging from the rotten
laughing clowns,
maggot faced monsters-
I’m still here,
where I’ve never wanted to be:

sitting with my thoughts.

Rainfall in Winter

I love the smell of rainfall
in winter.
The cold, wet, loaminess;
growth happening
beneath dampening dirt.
Little sprigs of green
between grey snow drifts,
melting drop by drop.
And little shining orbs:
rainwater on fallen leaves
from autumn past.

I breathe deep,
satisfied in my soul.
Rooted deep to earth
through sight, smell
and the mystery of life,
growing gently
in the winter rain.

Dark Christmas


Blood red nose;
Blood red suit;
Blood red slay.

Santa’s on the hunt.

Watch out, Calvin.
Be careful, Susie.
Santa checks his hit list twice:
once, to see your name;
once, to cross it off.

Nick’s got a team of nine
crack commando reindeer.
They came to break the naughty
and give out party
favors. And they’re all out
of party.

Blitzen’s blitzen’ across the snow
He’s got you in his sights now.
Donder’s donning his flak jacket-
No snowball barrage can stop him.

Don’t try to run –
Dasher’s faster.
Don’t try to plead –
Dancer and Prancer
love to jig
on snow angels.

Comet’s already crashed-
crushed your chimney;
set fire to your tree
and scattered the ashes
of your stockings.

Vixen and Cupid –
(the femme fatales) –
make the final blows
for Kris.

Kringle jingles all the way
to the ends of the earth.
Then back to frozen north,
frozen like his dark heart.

An army of elves
conduct surveillance for Yuletide,
the next dark Christmas.

Happy (Haiku) Holidays

I
Jolly old Saint Nick
Mirth-full of fun and good cheer,
Comes down to chim’ town!

II
Gifts or coal black coal?
Stockings hung by fireplace wait
For Santa’s good will.

III
Stamp snuffle shuffle
Eight hooved beasts, ready to fly,
With holiday haul.

IV
Workshop works round clocks
Makes Christmas come true again.
Thanks, little helpers!

V
Snow white, cold snow-fall-
Unless you live Down Under.
Then? X-mas Summer!

VI
Frosty the snowman-
The magic snowfall dances-
Ice crystals now live.

VII
Bright red sleigh, red nose –
Rudolf the reindeer now reigns
As Christmas hero!

VIII
I’m on the list – gulp –
Am I on the nice side, or
am I too Naughty?

IX
Two tallies mark fate –
The long list separates us.
Please grade on a curve!

X
Nightfall over eve:
Green tree, white lights, and the gifts
Wait for Christmas morn.

Fork

When is a boulevard
actually an avenue
to the road on which
a street becomes
the lane I shortcut
via the back alley?

Maybe I should
perform a u-turn?
What I mean is:
why are the signs
never clear until after
you’ve driven down
the parkway to brake
on the driveway?

Hang on…

is it left or right?

I need some clear directions
because I haven’t a thru
notion how to unfold
the GPS and ask Siri
which route leads to
life’s interstate highway.

Or perhaps I’ll just
stay on the service road?

Actually, I’ve paid the tolls
I’ve heard were due
and (now that I’m able)
I’ll cruise along the freeway
and hopefully I’ll not miss
my exit to what’s next.

Shiver My Timbers

I shiver my timbers
In the sudden warmth of March
Lockstep
Towards the twelfth dread
Another spin around the drain
maelstrom’s fire scorching space

I fancy myself piratical
adrift, now making sail
Heaving to galactic destiny
Shanghaied
The siren sings of emancipation
Unlocking the depths

Yo oh heave ho
Haul anchors away
Into scarlet skies at night
Spinning yarns that couldn’t be told
Jones’ bones are allowed to speak
Dead man no more

Not all treasure
Is silvers of steel drenched
In blood
Pulled from beating hearts
Salty breezes sweep
Hearts high on sea swells