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The Silencing Echoes | |||||||
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Long and hard are the sighs. | Blind with conviction the still standing victorious | ||||||
They slip from the mountaintops | Stand still, offering vases ..... | ||||||
Hurling themselves headlong into the abyss. ............. | Overflowing with liquid certitude, | ||||||
The Bliss, standing nearby, smiles coyly ............. | And empty of promises. | ||||||
Drinking songs from a tulip glass. | |||||||
Neither ignorant nor uncaring, | |||||||
The war wages on. | The Bliss approaches the edge of the pit, | ||||||
Blood flows from open wounds, | Pouring in the last drops of sweetness, | ||||||
And lies pile up in heaps where captains | And lying down to sleep. | ||||||
Of mercenary toil commend their troops. | |||||||
While the music swells in anticipation | |||||||
The broken trust and deception dirge plays slowly, | Of tomorrows answers, | ||||||
A solemn march of inexorable seeking . | Today, too soon for tender remembrances, | ||||||
For anxious citizens listening for any notes of | The arc of triumphant voices cascades into the | ||||||
................ ...................................................harmony, | .................................................. valley. . | ||||||
Blossoms they might pluck from the pit. | Drowning the mountain sighs, the silencing echoes | ||||||
................................................... shatter | |||||||
Silently sipping its nectar, |
In the scattered, darkened light. | ||||||
The Bliss gazes softly, |
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Its delicate fingers stroke notes |
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From aching mothers |
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While ailing fathers weep in a minor key. | |||||||
American Vet | ||
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American, oh Im an American . |
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Eating sideways out of a tin can, |
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Sipping rummy gin from a cracked chassis, |
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Im a walking pharmaceutical cornucopia . |
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Stepping out through an oblong alleyway, |
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Legal and ill, I advertise for the drug culture |
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My chin only a stubble away from inflicting sorrow. |
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Im their paid prescription plan. |
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Yes, Im as American as Hubert or W, .. |
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See, I got here in an all-American way, |
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Or Whats His Face, the Masker of Ceremonies. |
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From the Gridiron to the Grunge |
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When I dream in nightmares |
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By way of a sour cherry tree |
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Of hazarded guesses, and mixed opportunities, |
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Chopped down by the father of my children. |
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I am the one left standing in the tidal wave of dust. |
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Thats right, I got here on my own dime, |
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American, oh yes, Im an American,... |
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Cause time didnt heal me as promised.. |
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Red, black and blue with the rest of them, |
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I took the responsibility out with the trash, |
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Beaten down and beat up with the best of them, |
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And kept going. |
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Lowdown and high most of the time. . |
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Relative Fidelity |
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1. THE NIGHT BEGAN |
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Slipping .. |
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3. THE DARKNESS |
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....... .... and sliding |
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He just slept, ignorant of her turmoil, |
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....... ............. and slugging |
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while she lay there fantasizing |
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.................. ....... ..... and slitting |
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realizing the impasse of passions misdirection. |
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....... . ..................... ....... and slapping .. |
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Aspects of their earlier conversation's belligerence |
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...................... .................. ..... and slaving |
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and boredom precipitated his eventual yawns and |
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............................................. ...... ..... and slinking |
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........................................................... snores. |
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... ............................ .................. ....... ....... and sleeping |
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However somewhere within the whispering |
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...................... ....... ..... yes, finally s l e e p i n g. |
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........................................................... screams, |
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beyond the impressive tirades |
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2. DORMIRE |
a bit of truth was spoken, |
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While he slept, |
but by the baseness of its expression, was lost. |
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she trudged through her memories, |
The origins of suffering known only in secret, |
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past the seepage of disparaging sexual occlusions, |
hidden in the dark recesses of repressed memory |
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the wanted-to-be inclusions of passionate exchange. |
came into their battles as the power behind the |
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She laid there at the ready |
........................................................... moan. |
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suppressed expressive motions, |
No control had she for the raging fires that inflamed |
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and repressed possessive writhings,. |
........................................................... her need |
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awaiting the trigger imagination cant provide. |
Awkwardly, she turned over on her belly her hands |
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reached down to touch the pain between her thighs. |
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So many men that she longed for, . |
Maybe this time she could reach the peak. |
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but hadnt had |
Maybe this time she could get over the top. |
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owing to her commitment to remain faithful |
Maybe this time she could get it to stop. |
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to her sleeping bed mate |
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had heard her promises had awaited their moment |
4. HIS HERS THEIRS |
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in the wet and wild when she would finally |
She stifled her screams. |
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relinquish her somewhat solemn oath |
The time to dote on points past prime was past. |
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to the somneloquent sleeper |
She was done scraping the empty jar. |
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who snored at her side. |
The two of them lingered |
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.............. allied by lies |
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These days she accepted only verbal excitations |
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............................side by side. |
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phone solicitations, and swelling promises |
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.............. across the length of the mattress |
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of lasting satisfaction. |
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.............. their flesh touching elbow to elbow |
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Titillations whispered in an effort to |
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............................ knee to thigh. . |
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or at least what she claimed was an effort to |
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He grumphed and shifted |
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communicate. Communicate? |
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turning away from her quivering body |
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What had she to say to these propositions? |
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ignorant of the fire burning itself out in her womb. |
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To follow through? |
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She reached her unfulfilling denouement, |
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For now she was imprisoned |
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and while her breathing subsided, |
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in a paradox of addiction: |
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the rough edges of her passion smoothed over, |
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shackled to the left by her band of gold |
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and she would be able to carry on with the illusion. |
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and fettered to the right by her flood of desires. |
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