When The Ship Lifts

Can’t seem to wrap my mind
round those final feet
round this inevitable
with all my desire
I cannot bring me to care
they have not boarded me
though one could not tell
from the weariness in here

I had in my eye
this thing I could not see
this weakness, tiredness
relentless
untiring

I stumbled
with the pitch and yaw at the pier
I mumbled
forgot the dreams, in fear
Maybe forgot the memories

I’ve pressed my head
against this wall
strained for this
for all these thousand breaths
and it will not shift
perhaps I will not shift

I called out to myself
of weakness, tiredness
relentless
untiring

still, the stumble
The waves gently cursing my course
mumble
Fix me
lift my countenance
to meet yours

drift this transom
to face the setting sun
abandon this strait
to meander free
unfoul me,

lift anchor
all bills are not paid
set me loose

too long, too long
these words, these breaths
shift my colors
I’m tired, tired

______________________
Original Post
08 August 2013

The Bedroom Was a Disaster

How far down a spiral
does the long fall
you fell
go until you've met yourself

And made yourself
into your fall
and when your visions
became your nightmares

Did you realize it
in that cluttered wreckage
or ten minutes into a year and a day
and did I add to the whole

Or simply confirm it
out of ignorance
and you set it all on fire
because I was standing there

Yes. She probably needed an angel. Though I think she expected another devil so powerfully that she tried to make me into one to fulfill her own prophecy.

The spiral wasn't my fault
and I didn't push you down there
you fell
and I didn't meet your self

I don't think
regardless if you met me
my visions were nightmares
you couldn't see

But if you had
would that have made a difference
or just add to the whole
or just confirm it

If I hadn't just stood there
staring
as if I'd never seen anyone
die before

Transfixed

Like the creeping pawing toward the temple mount, this
Electric earth on which we walk, without shoes, without touching the ground
Has transcended our simple rituals and burns a convergence of lies
Into breathless, silent screams that are hardly prayers

The pointlessness of following a bloody-minded memory, this
Chemical fascination with something somebody scrawled on a paper
It represents something that never really happened
Except it did, in every way, so crushingly

So much so, that in the shadow of every saguaro, this
Girl, at the bottom of every beer in every barrio
In every lyric I ever heard, she flew uninvited
Into my tiny, black, vicious little soul

____________________________
Maybe a handful will get this
Inspired by a bizarre galahad
Who probably wouldn't agree
But that is synchronicity

___
This may be Part I
The story is entirely too complex
Too rich to leave alone, so there may be more