One day bleeds
into the next

Leaves wounds
that won’t heal
measures our moments
into finite statements
that knit the hours
into a tapestry of tedium

Where is the joy
I was promised?
Where
the lively waltz?

I grieve before every hour
and bend before fate’s great weight
tremble incessantly
and starve in the midst of plenty

Yet I hold my head up
march on
determined to reach that far shore
where fate will take us
and luck will leave us.

Come lay with me and let me
Feast upon the ambrosia
And **** the sweet nectar
Of your slender body
Until we both feel immortal
And push fear aside
For one night
Then let’s do it
Again
And
Again

The owl was looking at the man with a noose
Disturbed by the noise as he cooked his goose
But before he leapt the owl did say
Do you really want them to remember you this way?

The pain is real but will go away
The wise old owl was heard to say
The man with the noose, stopped and thought
He’s right, a lesson in patience I’ve just been taught

So he walked through the woods stood on a track to ease his pain
Then was killed by the 10.42 south bound train

The owl was watching in the branches so high
He is the only one who knew he did not want to die
So the moral of his death is like sand in a cup
When your time is up, your time is up

Life, the big distraction
How it weaves around all that lies deep within
It's all but one fraction
and this fraction in itself to life feels like a sin

The emptiness.
We all know of it
To our yearning, its empress
Nothing ever seems to fit
Right where emptiness sits
in its grand old throne room

A loneliness.
Both residing in these enormous halls
with nothing there to impress
Even they can't keep each other company
for they're one and the same
only wearing anothers name

I listen to my favorite song
Let me read this book that's been sitting on my shelf for so long
Maybe I'll go and buy these flowers I saw the other day
Wouldn't they look just lovely in my living room, I say
how sweet, how good, all is well
in this calming simplicity I dwell
til the sin seeps through:

only a distraction;
nothing will ever fill nor forever keep what it hides
the room where empress emptiness resides

Fingers dance around
strings as if trained at Bolshoi
dance academy