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I Passed Her By or Separate Regrets
I passed her by, lyin’ on the railroad tracks out in the middle . . . of nowhere something about her, has drawn me back lustrous lips or golden hair maybe that vacant look of despair she’s so much more than I can see she’s been through blood and hell and life’s debris what draws my stare and doesn’t dare won’t plumb her depths-- our separate regrets I walked the bridge over the river of her presence she was already three foot in stilled my heart, turning me around in reverence baptismal wetness on perfect skin drawn the blade now where to begin she’s so much more than I can see she’s been through blood and hell and life’s debris what draws my stare and doesn’t dare won’t plumb her depths-- our separate regrets I caught her scent in the breeze through the woods off the trail where the vines are thick stirred my blood like nothing should downy hair at the nape of her neck hemp tied high on a branch well set she’s so much more than I can see she’s been through blood and hell and life’s debris what draws my stare and doesn’t dare won’t plumb her depths-- our separate regrets In my mind we touched as she neared the cliff’s edge picked the greatest height and the smallest trace my dream is rapture under bright skies we pledge bright glory and perfect grace as to the valley’s floor she’s erased she’s so much more than I can see she’s been through blood and hell and life’s debris what draws my stare and doesn’t dare won’t plumb her depths-- our separate regrets April 14, 2008. 2:27 A. M. |
I Soon Will Wake
I’m flying high and through the clouds to the thinning air above where substance that I breathe lacks my bloods deepest needs and though my body thins and fades through my loss I soon will wake please don’t please don’t please, don’t take me away and back to where . . . All the years of struggling, I strained each passing day one life, too long in losing everything I grew tired of pretending everything’s okay turned my mind away from the outside and inward curved my care my life, too much while too miniscule bring a weapon about into the hollow barrel stare I’ll be flying high and through the clouds to the thinning air above where the substance that I breathe lacks my bloods deepest needs and though you lift my body away vain your efforts, I will not wake you won’t you won’t no you won’t take me away and back there . . . My own intimate torment engulfed each and every nerve as nothing to their own agonies they force their way six feet beneath the dampened earth Long to join in their peace away from the still and far below your lives, you’ll forfeit at any price brain awash with the sliver of silver light we go We’ll be flying high and through the clouds to the thinning air above where the substance that we breathe lacks out bloods deepest needs and though we’ve scarce been there before to death’s tunnel freely soar I will you will we will plummet through and down beware . . . Expecting lighted ways, you will follow me seeing through a dim-lit haze, will you falter? If the tunnel ends, where rainbows are black Find no comfort when, there’s no turning back. March 22, 2008. 1:02 A. M. |
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So Tired
I am so tired of living this way every moment’s a struggle surviving the day I’ve grown so weary of rising from death every morning’s a sentence been christened since bed looking forward to an end hoping longingly again as each sun it passes by wishing stars to let me die what holds me to this place? tell me please and I’ll erase to speed my way beyond don’t care where I’ll have gone I am so tired of living this way every moment’s a struggle surviving the day I’ve grown so weary of rising from death every morning’s a sentence been christened since bed every sorrow seems a jest crushing truth upon my chest laden heavy daily strife learning lonely bitter spite blurring vision of red has gone the desire for vengeance flown been expended every note from a silent, hollow soul I am so tired of living this way every moment’s a struggle surviving the day I’ve grown so weary of rising from death every morning’s a sentence been christened since bed weary of living each day roughly pompous, blooding way ignorant of the path afield come to sorrow’s journey reveal pilgrim bound for peaceful fields to plow a row of restful yield I wish I may I wish I might know no burden but the light November 9, 2011; Wednesday. 2:55 P. M. Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30, New International Version, 1984) |
