surrender

They said I'd quit but I can't
They are disappointed, expected a rant
But I haven't the energy to give in
Life's cost made me hollow within
I loved and lost, gave and gave up
I trusted and lost trust
And my life is finished and done
Why run a race, if it cannot be won

Stupid Game

They might offer
And if given a gift
It becomes yours to use
You might be forced
And if told you've lost
It wasn't ever up to you
So don't allow others
Who do not know you
Or even like you
To determine your path
They might pull your legs off
And tell you to run
You might come in last
But you never gave consent
Nor even played their stupid game

Don't listen

You might jump, or even fall
Just don't dare answer the call
Of little voices in your head
Making choices, and you're dead

Allowed to love

They tell us to take life as it comes
But we watch in loneliness at others
Who have everything that we might want
Together, happy, seeming to be whole
But I'm aware of what it might become
Life gives some a wholeness that covers
But refuses some as their heart grows gaunt
None are offered easy choices, we all churn within
We make our own and our counsel is not to envy
The choices of others whether of glory or sin
So I've learned to give in
To the small voice telling me
We are all flawed, do not be proud
To let go, to give greatly
Love fully when life allows

Not a choice to make

I saw in her eyes the children we'd never have
She was crying, and angry, all at the same time
For I was in love with someone and I'd never leave
And tears will not cause me to change my mind
She was beautiful yes, with a ballerina grace
And in another life I might in fact believe
But I don't fancy alternative lives
I have difficult enough time
Living in this one
I am happy with my love
She burns white hot in my core
We may be different, we might be flawed
But I love forever and so does she
The new one said she would love me
And make life together so beautiful
But I'm with someone so far more
Than anyone might offer
My heart knows the score
And I am content to follow
My first love is my only love
And that is enough for me to know

Blame fails

Some blame guns
Others madness
I say we've entered oblivion
Have we become addicted
Facing starvation of love
Seeking pleasure or drugs
To avoid reflection
Have we condemned every generation
Rising levels of violence
Have we become numb
From the abortions
The ease of crime
The fear of bullies
The violence of catastrophes
The constant war
What if we are broken
By the paths taken
What if were are the forsaken
And our generation chosen
To be the victims
With bodies of scars
Is it war or is conquest
Do we fight for honor
Or the spoils of the war chest
Do we liberate the slaves
Free the oppressed
Do we fail the test
When we kill for of oil
What if our lives were more
Than pursuit of pleasure
And desire for more than toil
How many would be so broken
If we all refused to use our bodies
To inflict pain, to extract revenge
To complete the cycle
What if we made it disgusting
To emulate the bad actors
Who kill for pleasure
Who are addicted to pain
Who decide revenge
Is akin to a game
But my fear is simple
Perhaps they can't help but pull the trigger
Or launch the missiles, or drop bombs
Because it is all that they know
Failing higher goals and earning utter shame

Against the Alien Sky Invaders

After a century of war the phantom airships continued to fight their campaign
Somehow we resisted, the human race united, to fight them on equal ground
Hundreds of battles, millions of casualties of warriors and civilian, bombs rained
Falling, the bombs kept falling, destroying everything as the bombs fell down

Sorrow Flight

She has seen the world pass, including the loves of her life.  She counted herself last, first she was a mother, daughter, wife.

The life of a person, who gave selflessly to the end, giving far too much.  Her heart had no time to mend, still she knows she'll be judged.

Because however much she has given, there is more needed, and there is never enough.  Never ever enough.

Sacrificial Dais

The darkness hovers
The structure stands
Stairs to the center dais
Lead to the ear of the mother
Sacrifices offered
For a harvest for the land
The heart burns in a flame
And the smoke smothers
Will this bring rain
Or add to the carnage
Of the conquered people

What is Love?

What is Love?
I don't actually know
We think we are so very clever
We think we know how to be
So much more than we are
I might love
But is it a foolish desire
Or have I learned the meaning of love
What is there for anyone
But the world that offers
So many intimacies
So many false legacies
Who are we, anyhow?
Are we meant to know
Are we meant to grow?
I give up
I found love and that's so much more
That my heart burns fire at the core
I care less about the words
That we linger upon
We are alive
Because we love
We will survive
Even if we do not get enough
Of what was given

The Ocean's Secret

There in the cross section of the Coordinates of Latitude 47° 9′ S, Longitude 126° 43′ W lays R'lyeh.  Should modern men visit, they would barely perceive, there are forces alive, that would threaten their sanity, burning the reason and the passion inside, every bit of piety. Lo before all is lost, what little remains of their beliefs, will fall before the evil alien deity.

With masonry carved by madness.  Ornamental yet abstract and bizarre remains.  Here should the world still slumber, an evil presence prepares to wake. Covered there is a secret, beneath the waves, where the ocean keeps silent the screams, and the killer tide. Here is the resting place for the sleeping dead god, who is called Great Cthulhu. 

R'lyeh was an ancient city, a collection of ruins, and walls, an symbolic gates of power.  It is asleep just as is the host.  The ghosts of long dead men and unwilling sacrifices still linger.  Beasts of the ocean stay away, nothing living dare draw near.  The cold depths are still.  The world shakes as the fates contrive. The memories of the artifice are stand still... only moving in fear of the malevolent being, who sleeps so deeply within. 

Nothing lives in this place, R'lyeh is still, itself, alive. Here is the tomb of the undying god. Here is the resting place for the alien one.  Almighty, powerful, untapped, untamed, Cthulhu will some day, though dead, still, awake.  His tentacles reach, quiver with pain, and for every moment he is lost in the misery, humanity as a whole, and earth included will be punished with shame, violence and pain.

Where are you now?

You said you'd love me forever
So where are you now
You said you never leave my side
And the only one there is God
Your love left me hollowed
Your love left me broken
Because of you I live in shadows
I'm the choice never chosen
I'm the prayer
Never spoken
The knowledge of the truth
Leaves you emptied
To pray you need hope
And hoping
Leads nowhere with you
Your love is a black rose
Dead but still beautiful
I'm the one you chose
And I am loyal, so dutiful
Because my love is alive
Unlike your black rose

Your perfect being

Your beauty is sacred
Your spirit within holy
Your mind is genius
Flesh forged from clay
Embedded with a spark
Your life a journey taken
But so high you are
Your spirit is lonely
I can't be yours
A loss egregious
Causing my heart to feint
Covered in a labyrinth of scars
Ever failing
Dying
Without you

Future Course Change

With 4 pulls of the trigger
At least two men changed the future
The president and king, in a limousine
Paused for a moment
For the assassin's aim
From above the field
From behind a fence
Camelot was dissolved
Along with hopes dashed
Wounds unhealed
The bitter harvest for all Americans
The coup stealing the legitimate leader
And replacing him
With a treacherous beast

The Judgment

If you use humor that uses self deprecation
They will think you are weak, and will mock
If you use irony and sarcasm in speech
They will not see the layers, and will act shocked
If you think yourself flawed, and exalt in that
They'll think you arrogant, an aggressive cock
Whatever it is that you choose to do
They will diminish you, call you one of the flock
So be yourself
Be free
Ignore the others
For you have nothing to be  except what you are
The others will never be pleased
Any time you take the time to talk
They will take it as what they wish
So be free

Carry on?

Hurting worse than broken bones
A broken heart remains
When other wounds might heal
Sorrow alienates me, steals my home
From the loss of love again
Nothing to find, no great reveal
This life moves on
But I can't escape the thought
Of what the hell went wrong
Why does this happen to me
Why is love so hard
Why bother carry on?

Broken love

The masquerade I play leads me to a life of lies
Hiding in the comfort of shade, and my disguise
In darkness I hope not to be recognized
The moment you see me I become the despised
I love you without any way to stop
But you reject me, wound me, hate me
I can't escape your feelings
No matter how I've tried
You are going to leave me
And for that I wish to die
Please save me

Euthenasia and Forcible Sterilization

Nothing requires science to be moral
Nor is religion ever measurable in facts
Belief doesn't equate evidence
Morals don't have to be lawful
Given a choice doesn't mean one will act
We debate the cost of hubris or importance
In the end we allow our emotions
To determine who we believe is right
Covering one's self in religion
Or masking malice in science
Helps no one but the villain
And whoever controls the narrative
Within societal norms and values

Invictus

Undefeated, invulnerable, eternal warrior
It rises, after night had been ascendant
We must hasten to the truth
There is a way forward
That counts as proof
Every day is consumed by the night, by the moon
But we can see
As it rises every morn
The sun cannot be stopped
The gloom and catastrophe we fear
Should dissipate as should the fear of doom
For there is light, triumphant
Upon the horizon
Light will overcome

“In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die.”  Ernest Hemingway

Let me live again

With every kiss you let me twist
There in the air, hung by my desire
You drive me crazy, and I'm in ecstasy
I more than care, inside you lit a fire
I am in love for love's sake, going to break
You stole me from my past, and my torment
You gave me hope, for more than a moment
So, you have to stop, if it goes unfulfilled
I'll have been killed, never able to rebuild
You have to go away, or stay
Let me live again, or remain
Doesn't matter at this point, no
I can't go on, without hope

Flesh No Longer Needed

There was a life, but that being is now gone
A life in memory, only a burnt vessel remains
Living without guidance, no clear defined path
The pyre built by the living, smoke rises from fire
In each life many things can and have gone wrong
The pyre consumes the flesh leftover, intense flames
Vessel no longer vital, unneeded for the aftermath

“Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.” Bram Stoker

heart attack

Your love gives me chest pains
The doctor can't prescribe anything
That will free my heart from screams
I've spent my life happy until now
I have a permanent cloud of rain
That led mourners to sing
Let him sleep
Let him go
He is wounded
Forever after

In the Arena Today

The dirt floor I lay
With sweat mingled with blood
Parched throat from the burning sun
Muscles aching, wounds that leak
Today the arena has left me weak
Nothing will stop me, but bad fortune
My goal is to survive, before exhaustion
Creating a sort of art with both of my blades
The longer I live, I might win this chase
To go forward must defeat another
Perhaps he is a foreign war prisoner
Perhaps one of the unarmed damnati
The heat of the afternoon sun smothers
Live in victory or die by dishonor
When finished let them burn my body
So I might finally enter Elysium

Burning Fire

People say we can't know the depth of our abundance
Unless we are unfortunate to lose it all, in a disaster
But horrible tragedy doesn't make life sweet
Legacies lost don't remind of our blessings
Catastrophes aren't messages
Cancer isn't a warning
It doesn't matter what people are told
Bad things happen
For a myriad of reasons
They don't exist to tell us
What we already should know
To have or have not is not the primal need
It is not a lesson upon how we should be living
To love and to love greatly is that
And here I stand upon the foundation
Of love I was so fortunate to be given
And by her love I found the strength to be forgiven
By a red rose in snow
I am not saint, not a wise or bright man
But to lose what I know is good
Nothing is worth what that would bring
Not even should we grow old
So I say again
I might not be special
I might be nothing someone else would want
People may laugh at the thought
That I might be one desired
But I was loved by one who taught me
Love is the only burning fire
Where there is love it never grows cold
For the fire keeps burning

dedicated to my redheaded Canadian love

No hiding

A romantic opportunity not taken, and heart that was breaking
She mourned the lover she never met, more than she'd admit
There was a stone in her heart, it was a memory leaving scars
So when the day offered more, she refused to post the score
She preferred hope to hiding, life is a road prone to winding
Where could she go, who would ever know
What are the secrets of love, the art of finding someone
An offering of a place that gives enough once begun
A coupling that proves fulfilling and abundant?
What is life without enough love
Why would anyone choose that path?
What is life but the pursuit of being whole
Life is an art, it isn't science and math
There is no formula or proof that we can know what's good
So give all there is inside or face losing to the lie
That there is more we should know
To live this thing called life and find what our heart needs to grow

Millenial and Boomers

We:  You've no work ethic, are weak and stupid
Them: We can't live in this world with your guilt
We: You'll be the generation of high culture's ruin
Them: We can't fix the problems that you've built
Every new life introduced into this world is a gift
Every new life brought into this place is a curse
How can we ever understand each other if we lie
How can we expect any generation to save earth
When we have done so much to wound it
When we couldn't fix the flaws we inherited
The only answer is tiny steps but be warned
We might be trying to flee the tsunami

“We hear a great deal about the rudeness of the ris-
ing generation. I am an oldster myself and might be
expected to take the oldsters' side, but in fact I have
been far more impressed by the bad manners of par-
ents to children than by those of children to parents.
Who has not been the embarrassed guest at family
meals where the father or mother treated their
grown-up offspring with an incivility which, offered
to any other young people, would simply have termi-
nated the acquaintance? Dogmatic assertions on mat-
ters which the children understand and their elders
don't, ruthless interruptions, flat contradictions,
ridicule of things the young take seriously some-
times of their religion insulting references to their
friends, all provide an easy answer to the question
"Why are they always out? Why do they like every
house better than their home?" Who does not prefer
civility to barbarism?”   C.S. Lewis

(Poet note: As a Baby Boomer I am not offended or worried about the Millennials or any generation.  We inherit a world of benefits and debts, we have to find a way, not for ourselves, but for the children who inherit the world from us.)

Unique Diversity

We all share one thing
Humanity
And nothing more
Nor less
I am unique and different
Like everyone else
But that should also bring
Unity in our diversity
When
If I am unique
What can I say about anyone else at all?
Other than for being different
They are just like me
We are a collective we
Without pretense
Then
Nor should our species regret
Learning this secret
May it free us
From our fears
And our deep despair
Yes, life's not fair,
But when has it ever been

When the Mists Rise

When the mists rise only then are we able to see the isle of apples known as Avalon.  Standing high above the land and the vapor clouds, is only seen, in the burning light of the golden dawn.  There the king sleeps, in his dreams there are the fates, who keep all his secrets, his regrets, and pretense.  And someday we'll go there too, and sleep, forever until we wake, with the dawn of the first new day.  My king I long to serve you, I long to be in your presence.  How I seek your hand, your guidance, even the scent of Avalon, and your presence brings me into ecstatic visions, of the highest and the most sacred land.

The Word

If I were to be a written word
Inked upon paper by a quill
I'd long to be a word unique
Not a lyric someone heard
No truism to sound fulfilled
Or modern sounding or chic
The word I'd seek to become
Something closer to trust
Because language is this
Hideous Babel is oblivion
Turning civilization to dust
We've welcomed the abyss
I dance with words, not linger
I embraced the catastrophe
Haven't enough hope to rise
Drawing a name with my finger
Through the dust of life's agony
A word I will choose is alive
To be anything else is irrelevent
Anything more would be a lie

“The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.” T.S. Eliot 

Burning

I keep screaming
The pain won't stop me
I keep sleeping
But without dreaming
My flesh can't breathe
I'm like a demon released
Waiting for the time
To be left behind
And burned inside
Burning
Nothing left but burning
Burnt completely
Wholly
No more pain
Empty of evidence
No proof of life
Simply ash
Upon a pyre and sacrifice
Spread upon the wind
Unleashing my rage
Until nothing remains

Life?

What makes one life more important than others
Is it your capacity to sleep, eat, breathe or dream
That gives you a life more valuable or important
We abort fetus, we allow euthanasia, we make war
Are we to assume that government is our mother
Does government determine what we can believe
Or are we lying about life, and are simply orphans
Without a family we limit what life can be
Because to linger in indecision might leave scars
Is our awareness an attempt to become more
Than flesh that walks
Than monkeys that talk
Who are we
And why do we care?
Is this world just lies agreed upon
Or have we entered a place where
We fear becoming modernity's heir

Northern Storm

Before our tide
The crimson rises
Upon the storm
Our ships make shore
Then the killing will begin
We are the hand
Of our God's demand
We are the riders
Of the waves colliding
Here we stand
Comes the tide of war
Rising choirs
The end beckons
For we are the way
Our gods demand more
So we fly upon the waves
Our ships are as dragons
Each battle comes with lore
For let it be known
We are the children
Of Odin and the Aesir
A storm in Valhalla awaits
With thunder clouds
Even in shattering winds
Blowing snow
We see in the skies
Where Thor rides
Down pours the rains
Hiding our escape
Crossing the sea
Dangerous to all
The rains cloak 
Our return
As we come home
Return to the north
To raise a sacrifice
And burn the remains
Of our brothers lost

The Swan Maidens

We had walked the path of every knight before us
We had no way of knowing our special privilege 
In mid point of the journey, deep in the forest
We heard them in the wood, there, came a chorus
Seeing Eden before our eyes, alive verdant and green
We saw visions of maidens taking form of swans
In our deepest heart we desired them
And that they would adore us
This primordial place was quiet, elegant and beautiful
We became certain that our time spent there
Was certain to restore us and the vision of life
Swan Maidens could fly above the world below
Seeing them we believed in all manner of gods
And heard angels in the sky
We were transformed by this moment
Seeing those of utter magnificence
We'd never know nor ever see again
Those godlike creatures
Fashioned in human flesh
Upon that ground we were transfixed
Unable to move
Until the moment passed
And we felt despair
For we had tasted of ecstasy
And could never return

The Lady of Shalott

To love the perfect knight
To love Lancelot now
And forever
To give your heart so true
To surrender your destiny
Because your heart is right
Because this love was good
To abandon jealousy
To sacrifice one's life
Because to know love
Means you have no control
Over the choice of the other
To live and forgive
To love and to offer
She was broken by her love
For he loved another
And while he was honored
By her heart
He could not abandon his own
For his love was just as deep
Just as true
Morally good or wrong
It would not be gone
By anything but the worst catastrophe
And the one who loves
Never desires sorrow
For the one beloved

The Archetype

In Edmund Spenser's eyes, she was the sweet virgin
Who was called Britomartis, a warrior queen
A take upon the Virgin Queen Elizabeth I of England
But she has existed since the beginning of time
Not just our cultural awareness
Since the beginning of our dance
Between the genders
Men and women
And fluid others
We've longed to know this being
Fierce, Hard, Soft or even Gentle
A wide array of gifts, and traits
That chasm between the mother and warrior
The daughter and the leader
A divine being who was unsullied by desire
But fighting with a holy inner fire
The Greeks and primordial Hellenes
Considered her to be a form of divinity
Worshiped and adored
Similar to, but not the same as Artemis
Goddess of the Hunt
Perhaps the Norse thought of her as Freya
Or the leader of the Valkyr
Who choose from the slain
The warriors for Valhalla
It doesn't matter
For her being was imprinted
Upon each culture's collective brain
The mother defended the cubs
The queen of every domain
Men long for her
Men fear her
But we know she is always near
In our brains, in our hearts
We have celebrated her name
Whatever the culture chooses
She exists
She always has
And always will

Hope Hides Behind the Veil

Stepping out from beneath the curtain
No one is surprised to see nothing
So I press pause on the ticking seconds
And pull back the gossamer veil
I used to believe, I was so certain
I believed in big things, great things
Breaking easily, all hope is threatened
I know the truth, most dreams fail
I might be lost, unable to be saved
Please don't abandon me
I am unable to be redeemed
But I still need love
I need the truth and know
Life is both more and far less
Than we want or than we need
All expectations go beyond the pale
Of what we should imagine
Much less expect to happen
Hope hides behind the curtain
Revealing so so much
That I still can't see
Behind the veil

Melt

Like the tin soldier who loved
Such a graceful ballerina
I saw a dancer beckon
We danced upon the mantle
While others laugh like hyenas
Her arms were my heaven
Sorrows no longer tormented
Nor tangled
What have I found now
That I never found before
I never knew how
Even if a fire burned in the core
Still I know
There is something inside
Each and everyone
Anyone with tears to cry
Knows
Love is worth it all
Love is everything
I melt into an offering of tin
Knowing it may not be enough
But I gave it all
And with true love
I gave all I had within

traveler

Faced with the cold open air
The traveler lives but is unprepared
With oxygen hose still attached
He exists by being, not upon facts
Bright he is, yet unable to perceive
With modern language slow to receive
He is smarter than anything alive
Born hungry but ready to thrive
Surviving this world, will change it
Doing things none but he can explain
He is born unto a set of expectations
The blessed child of all generations
He is our only hope to still exist
There are many dangers he'll resist
They may burden him
They may destroy his will
But he has the strength within
His nature is deeply instilled
He is our child
The sum total of our flaws
Next to him we appear wild
Still he takes upon him our cause

Only Scars

In leaving him, she didn't just leave
She chose to wound, amputating his heart
He'd been innocent, a fool who easily believed
The home was now empty, he was left with scars
She was violent but left his manhood untouched
But her unanswered rage had performed castration
He had barely survived, was now subject to disgust
If she stayed, it would've ended with his starvation












“To combat death you don't need much of a life, just one that isn't yet finished.”  Herta Müller

Heart Afire

My heart was afire
My flesh burned
Inside I had a desire
I never had learned
That you'd be my end
My disaster and ruin
My heart would never mend
From the beckoning doom
I ignored the warnings
Of a danger manifest
I was lost to your lure
I could never know
Yours was a heart that would never be
One that would be welcoming me
To come close
And to love
So let me burn, to ash
And I'll never be this foolish again
For tears can never be enough
To put out a fire from love
Time to move on
These words are my last