Mimi

storm clouds gather,

the final darkness awaits,

the time and the place

were never ours to choose;

in the quiet calm,

the past comes bubbling up,

Christmas and pearl necklaces,

lost among the rubble and ruins,

innocence and honor

victims of the maelstrom;

Mimi, you were never finer,

the seven-sevens never smoother,

the truth was never better,

the night was never longer;

rest well my friend.

.

eventually

I cannot go where you are in

this land of impossible perfection,

this home of beautiful dreams and

never ending fantasies where

tears do not fall;

a world for others;

not us.

In the morning I watch your face

for the last time,

we both know words

will never be enough;

everything ends,

everything is temporary,

everything just an illusion,

always just a touch

beyond possibility,

always a bit more

than can be imagined;

this great sorrow,

this magnificent sadness,

this other reality;

eventually truth catches up

with us all.

.

Wasichus

Wasichus,

you have come without asking,

you have taken without giving,

plundering our land,

stealing our food,

go back from where you came;

until you have learned

some manners.
.

soon

I’m tired of trying to determine

who is right, who is wrong,

why this happened,

why this didn't,

who’s to blame,

who isn't,

who should apologize,

who shouldn't,

when none of it really matters,

none of it means anything at all

we’re all wrong,

we’re all right,

we’re all to blame;

it just doesn't matter;

and I am tired;

and I am sick;

and I am dying;

and it just doesn't matter;

I am tired of worrying about tomorrow,

and yesterday,

and last week,

and last month,

and 2 years ago,

and 5 years from now,

and 15 seconds from now;

I’m just fucking tired;

I just want to hold on to

the moment,

I just want to experience

a perpetual orgasm,

I just want to make it all

go away,

I just want to hold on to everybody

and everything but no one

and nothing,

I just want to feel high

forever;

I just want to let go

once;

just once;

soon, soon,

but not soon enough.
.
.

Suburbia

Out in the fields

the slaughterhouse seems

so far away,

dreams still live,

the future open and free,

tomorrow certain and secure;

little do they know;

the cattle truck is on its way.

The circle is closing,

and you wonder;

is this the best there is?

or more importantly;

is this all there is?

as if it ever mattered

one way or the other,

yet still you wonder,

and you forget,

and you remember,

over and over again;

everything changes,

everything remains the same.

The days become harder,

movement nonexistent,

just a little farther,

only a little longer,

holding on with what

little there is,

living for letting go,

waiting for the last breath,

pretending it matters,

wishing it didn't;

knowing it never will.

In central suburbia

the waves wash quietly

upon forgotten shores,

nothing is ever what it seems,

no one is ever who they say,

looking down from sacred ground,

privileged and blessed,

safe and secure,

flags flying high,

apple pies cooling

on kitchen counters;

‘those’ people are ruining the country,

‘those’ people don’t belong here;

and all I ever wanted was You.

.

Consumption

I am slowly being consumed,

dying a little bit more

everyday;

anger,

bitterness,

hatred,

darkness;

as I wonder

who is listening,

and who is only

pretending;

I have nothing left to say,

everything has been said,

I cannot make people listen,

I have done all I can do,

on my own I can do nothing,

nothing at all;

the past moves on,

quietly becoming no more;

the misery,

the suffering,

the struggling;

everything changes,

everything fades;

even this;

they watch from afar,

waiting for the destruction,

carried on by the wind,

glowing with the anticipation;

there is no beginning,

there is no return;

farther along,

somewhere down the line,

deeper into the divide,

shattered by the consumption,

confusion spreads it’s mighty tongue,

buried deep within the confines

of this burned out refuge,

where even the echoes

become silent,

these lines to nowhere,

these forgotten denizens;

when do you fall?

I have come to a crossroad,

I can no longer find goodness

in people,

I see only hidden agendas,

greed,

self-righteousness;

we are all failed,

we are all ravenous dogs,

we are all hypocrites;

all our noble deeds,

all our false concerns,

simply a show

to make us feel

good about ourselves;

in You I cling to one last hope,

in You I still see the potential,

in You I have been redeemed.

.

.

waiting

with a song it begins,

this incredible sadness,

this bittersweet goodbye,

no matter how far you run,

it always comes back to here;

for everything there is a cost,

for everything there is a loss;

trapped within this wreckage,

hidden among the fading mist,

a price to be paid,

an unanswered question,

an unfulfilled answer;

a beacon for the terminally lost;

this morning,

for the first time in

a long time,

I woke up afraid;

there is an evil lurking here,

floating just below the surface,

an unspoken shadow,

waiting to envelope everything

in its path,

an unseen whisper,

touching depths unknown.

.

.