I'm deceased
my body and sweet decay
the rot setting in,
I still hear the beeping,
a flat line signaling my end.

It was all a poorly sung illusion,
the offbeat melodic rhapsody
a ****** mockery,
a slow sweet tinkering of bells
tolling a harsh lullaby.

The composition meandered for
so long, the songs changed my life,
beautiful textures,
my bones showing,
my love so bountiful, each moment
still-life.

I flicker to passages,
as I'm lowered in to the case,
I see the happy faces,
you see I'm deceased,
I'm not dead...
I'm at peace.

My hair and teeth,
against bleached cartilage,
and that face;
a contemptuous corpse,
fingers pointing inward,
freed heart and soul,
piercing chest,
a cavity...
okay,
he's dead.


http://www.robross.ca

At this late hour
contemplating a deliberate plan
eyes work through fatigue,
as crows feet grow,
legs stationary
mind having left the soul,
resenting the direction
retracing the flow...
quieted along the path,
faulted lines show
a moderate to large scale
fracture,
and underlying swell.

It is a life traveled,
marveled by eagle eyed sight,
no damage to the structure,
shifted to the right.

Collapsing splinters jot new landscapes,
laid to waste, by beauty of worded brush,
yielded as sword, to the ground with ******,
painted collections line broken walls.

Shall the brush be to conquer?
Or a natural force, under command?
Contemplating the deliberate plan,
so divided, alone,
the degrees of force,
unwieldy; wholesale destruction,
too much for one man...
the canvas awaits the final blow.

http://www.robross.ca

I see their eyes
yeah, I see them
there they are
large, gray
a wide array of expression

I feel nothing in them
they see me
and I'm looking right at them
it wasn't meant to feel this way

I'm impressed by the feeling
chilled by the perception
a ghoulish laughter
my only confession

I see their eyes
a million daggers,
confused they throw them my way
I catch them, a cut up collection
it wasn't meant to feel this way

Wandering through the weeds
a landscape free from presence,
life choked with a sullen glaze,
are they still looking at me?
The sky of haze.

I'm slowing the spin
read slowly,
I'm slowing the spin
repeated slowly,
it wasn't meant to feel this way.

I walk away from the Supreme Beings,
in what direction?

they know something,

it wasn't meant to feel this way...


www.robross.ca

Entry to a blasted land
from whence it came
from whence it stands

The windows framed
a landscape bland
a landscape grand

Strewn are the artful plans
blackened blight
blackened light

The windows strange
panes in tact
pained with spite.

Shreds of civility
ghostly mastered
ghastly sight.

The windows
centered in disaster,
presented in gallery,
dusted in delight,
veiled in mystery.

www.robross.ca

Springing forth from slumbered quest
a smile adorned by vapid breath.

Elephants give rise to thunderous steps
a cry, some calamity, then more rest.

Bits have changed, good will blessed,
shards of self collected, an inspired mess.

Pieces went missing, when the hammer dropped
but there he is, standing ... looking back up.

His fashion changed, face perked up,
the meaning clarified, was this good luck?

Chipped and cracked, dazzling flare
light rebounded... as light as air.

The bits hit by roaming bands,
illuminating through time, permanence arcane.

Fruition came to pass,
a soldier, a real trooper, regained dignity.

As bit by bit, the pieces fit,
and were joined by shards of the land.

www.robross.ca

I imagine life with wings
flying through crisp currents
feathers pruned neatly
a world beneath my shadows.

I imagine life from the trees
swinging through depleted canopy
beating chest in frustration
a face of humanity turned wild and cold.

I imagine life in the oceans
extracting oxygen from the depths
blasting the surface with great bursts
my song traveling vast distances.

I imagine life snaking the deserts
burrowing for protection from predator and sun
searing pain from the vestige of limb
all part of the natural plan.

I imagine the Earth from beyond
a shining jewel, polished by debris
exporting our imprint by stamp
sealed with approval,
delivered by scope.

I imagine looking back at an affected world,
alien and foreign, hope for diplomatic relations
logic and reason, replaced by treason
as minds were affected
corroded to core,
a shining jewel no more,
the blast not heard,
another tree fell,
a capsule launched
with seed and tears...
caught by passage of time,
an evolution takes over,
who shall be the next to record?

http://www.robross.ca

Ears echoing droplets
amplified overhead,
seeking attachment to skin,
running down edges,
a soft hum of gadgetry
reminding the soul of how it's spun,
electrically...
as hours toll by tower,
and languished breath
seeps down circular steps;
concrete poured within,
anguish is met by horizon,
unsure whether
night or day,
the bells ...
the bells ...
the bells....
the bells....
the bells....


http://www.robross.ca