and I’m going to post something today, tomorrow and of course Wednesday about it. Today you get one of the best songs I’ve ever heard about war, because it’s the truth for veterans and their families. Get out the tissue, it’s a hurter.
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For one who never did belong to another soul
There is freedom in loneliness
For one who was never given much
There is wealth in small things like a warm bed or a cold glass of water
For one who was never told the truth
The honesty between the lines of every lie is sacred
For one who never had support
There is security in the shifting of each day and the turning of every tide
For one who was ignored
The attention to detail is proof of life
For one who was injured deeply
The world will always provide the person to reopen the wound just as it starts to heal
For one who was discarded like trash
There is a need to hoard everything of value
For one who was persecuted
There is never enough justice to balance the scales
For one who was imprisoned
There are no bars but those in the mind that are without a key
For one who was never loved
There is nothing else that matters, not breath, food, money, shelter or success. Just a constant quest to fill the lack
In Tandem
I channel the light inside his head
When the darkness speaks in tongues
Of black and white and wrong and right
It always comes back to this pin point of frictions
I spit out his bitter opinions
Before they turn sour in my belly
A poisonous elixir meant to kill or cure
As if all we really needed was a provisional disguise
The dawn approaches as grim drama
More coffee to dilute the final cigarettes
Tissue gone but toilet paper aplenty
To soak up the salt water phantoms we call tears
Not knowing the outcome is a new drug
In our hashing out and thrashing about
It looks like talking from an outside point of view
But from the interior we are carrying around a corpse called us
Yesterday’s November Sky In Six Parts
When I was a child, I believed I could kiss the face of bliss by floating upward until I was absorbed and became the colours that streaked and blazed across the sky. Some days I still think this is possible.
More Photos…
I saw this at Cape Spear. Apparently it was warning me about...
this and...
this
I also went to a dead end road and saw this...
and this
The other day when it snowed I saw this
Two days later I saw this
Here is the verse I wrote…
for voxpoetica. Since this IS Halloween Eve, I thought I would also post it here. Thanks again Annmarie for prodding me to do this.
POEm
The evening crept into my room
Beneath the fullness of the moon
The hour struck just ten that night
As I wrote by candlelight
I’d heard it said once long ago
Its flame invoked the soul of Poe
You see it was my secret dream
To outdo Poe and write a scream
Something wicked to delight
A story of horrific fright
As I tapped the keys to tell my tale
My laptop announced a new e-mail
I looked at who the note was from
Apparently it was from “no one”!
Out loud I said “this cannot be
Someone must be spamming me”
I poised my hand and pushed delete
An action I would soon repeat
Within no time I got some more
First twenty-nine, then forty-four
Finally the spamming ceased
My frenzied fingers felt released
Just as I sat back and sighed
My calm repose was soon denied
The room became as cold as ice
I saw my breath and shivered twice
My laptop screen became bright blue
A truly terrorizing hue
I couldn’t move or close my mouth
My stomach churned, my guts went south
When suddenly a face appeared
My laptop screen a frame of fear
At first it looked an eerie glow
Then became the face of Poe!
You can imagine my surprise to see
The illustrious Poe gazing back at me
Within no time his mouth did speak
His face was gaunt and his eyes were bleak
“I plead, don’t tell me, nevermore,
For you are still my sweet Lenore
Reborn as one called Annmarie
Your new name matters not to me!”
I felt so shocked, my lips were dry
But I could not accept this blatant lie
“I am not your sweet Lenore!
You don’t belong here anymore”
Poe’s face turned grim at this remark
His eyes were flashing bits of spark
I blinked and he appeared to me
Beside my chair and touching me
I felt a chill go up my spine
As Poet let out a little whine
“Oh sweet Lenore, you are aware
I’ve come for you, do not despair”
At this I pulled myself together
And left the chair where I’d been tethered
My courage came to me at last
I reached the door in one mad dash
I took the steps three at a time
Until I reached the yard outside
I ran up the street then down the lane
My legs grew tired, I looked insane
“I must be free by now,” I said
“From Edgar Poe, the living dead”
But when I looked behind me then
Old Poe was just around the bend
Above the ground his spectre flew
And as he gained on me it grew
Above the ground his body soared
Crying out for sweet Lenore
Until his countenance did change
Into a Raven large and strange
Before I could begin to scream
Dear Poe became a scary dream
I sat up straight in bed in fright
And turned on every single light
So real was the dream of Poe
It took some time to let it go
Just in case, I checked my mail
Feeling rather weak and pale
But as all was just as it should be
To see no ghosts I was relieved
I shut the lid and went to bed
Braved the dark and shed my dread
The next day I would write this down
And steal Poe’s poetic crown
Just as I was feeling smug
I felt the blanket being tugged
When I sat up to wrest it free
Edgar Poe stared back at me!
On Time
A well placed piercing of my heart
Beguiled me enough to let you go
I didn’t really want to slink away
While you slept yourself into oblivion
Don’t fall in love with your bed you told me
Fall in love with nothing I said
An empty soul collision
Brought on by high expectation
We never did enough truth calculus
To prepare for the division
The timing never was considered
As that monster clocked chimed the hour of our demise
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Flame
An orange light on a white wall
Heralds the arrival of death
In a dark yard
The screams from terror filled throats
Lay down the panic law
Inside a little girl’s soul
Today he was just a boy
Eleven and full of breath
A life just at the beginning
His Mom said no to his request
To sleep outside with friends
In a tent in the neighbour’s yard
On and on he wore her down
Pestered into a puddle
His finally relenting mother
Jolly laughter on firecracker night
Sparklers and giggles
By the firelight
Memories are born swiftly
A labour hastened by fate
When a tent catches fire
Tonight he is a human torch
Underneath a crumpled canvass dome
Collapsed in an exhausted smoking heap
Tomorrow they will say he has no eyelids
And that he named the author of his death
Before silently slipping away from the pain
Thirty plus years later
For me he will remain
Eleven and losing his breath in a flame
