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.

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

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.

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

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