Demon Killed the Dreamer

Demon in a child�s eye;

smoldering, waiting

biding his time,

lurking behind a smile

suffering through the happy years.

He knows what�s come next.

There�s a demon in a child�s eye,

waiting till fairies die and

dreams crash into the inevitable,

the inevitable truth of time.

New day,

I feel it again.

Rushing, surging through,

filling my lungs,

my veins,

ache with the pressure,

the painful sweet longing almost satisfied.

A drug,

but perhaps only a smell,

no must be more.

The essence of life

lived by three million at once;

simultaneously

driving cars, shuffling papers

filling the day with motion

good? bad?

who knows?

merely pleasant in the passing.

Atlanta.

Missing You

I caught a piece of you in anothers eye

made me smile, made me laugh, made me die.

jagged edge, familiar, not warm

cut me deep, left me torn.

Field Trip

yellow shirts wander to the window

curious eyes press the glass

Haven�t they seen a barbershop before?

almost annoyed, but

even the sun seems pleased

innocent smiles shuffle and move,

block the walk, and spill into the street

light changes, the world rushes by a side walk full of yellow shirts

thoughts, fears of children chasing red balls into the street.

am I morbid?

too old for filed trips?

never!

but all I can see is the cars.

Look Up

Call me crazy, I don�t like your games.

Can I help it if I don�t see the point?

Stand up at half time and ask why,

Why do you care?

And yet I know,

see it in your eyes; on your face.

They speak with the power of words unsaid.

In short, it makes you smile.

Is that enough?

Taking precious hours for the

mortal pleasure of a smile.

Is such an aim noble unto its self

with out the crutch of almighty productivity?

Part my soul screams �Yes, it must be so!�

but, if life is the sum of our hours,

ought we not to do the most we can with the time we have?

Is the pleasure of experience an accomplishment in its self?

Then what is noble, and what the hell should I produce?

So, I cast a weary eye to heaven and hope God likes to smile.

Still, quiet voice

fence mender

rainbow maker

ominous thunder clouds,

lined in silver

whisper.

trail blazer

mountain builder

deeds of malice,

touched by mercy

whisper.

life giver

death stealer

lives of hatred,

saved by love

whisper. shout.

Your hand is here.

Run

(the way I think)

Sometimes me, sometimes you; we

Run from the light of reason.

Fear it for it burns.

Turn gazes towards

The cool cold comfort of self bent thought

Here self lost minds must go

To retain their untried insanity

And prove that they, nay not me,

They are never wrong..

Come now, rest with me, yourself, a while

Linger, safe a moment longer

In the confines of insanity

For in the dark there are no burns

Without truth who can be wrong

Hear my secret found in fire of daily reason

Sent to bring wisdom to the damned.

Could have been me or you

So why do you stare

thinking your

self so, so thoughts

of piety �cause it never will be me.�

It will

It has

We were merely lucky

The mind is infinite in its capabilities,

limitless in the ways it can fail.

You�re right.

You were born that way.

Birthright of a fool.

Natalie

Dance with me

come on will ya

make me smile

if only for a moment

a step

when my foot�s on your toe

you grin, I smile, we both laugh

and we�re dancing.

Breaking the day

I like to crack people

make them break, shift,

change their perspective

and of me

till they give in and smile.

Joy from the cold

that makes me warm

the feeling of maybe not a friend,

but one less detractor,

one less burden on my day.

And yet I am often cold

turning hard shoulder and wary eye

against the tension felt

stone stare of a world that looks

not quite as I please.

I am dead therefore I am

not me. who am I

nothing that�s

why I am

dead therefore I am

can. not. be. this cannot be I

am dead living here trapped

behind, inside this glass cage

built by man for the sake of my

death. life. who cares they

are, will, have always

been one and

the same.

I stare with bulging goggle eyes at the limits of my infinity to realize I am nothing amidst it all. I am a fish in a bowl on the desk of the man who is staring at me as he writes

The Day is Alive

long shadows run

hiding from warm, clean, yell-gold

fingers of the sun

with gentle caress gives peace

silently imparting knowledge

drawn from the burning well, infinity.

crawling from the shadows

cool, mellow, clean

he steals, cat like

bringing night

he whispers sweet

sweet songs of rest

as he steals about

bringing clarity to the day

night fall is here.

Is it wrong to have comfort

to want it

to have

to have always had?

Is it my fault

my right?

Why blame

praise me?

I had no say in the matter.

I merely recognized

the pleasure of having

and the sometimes pain of not.

Greed is the poison

fed to us by circumstance.

Alone With Forever, My Hell.

Where can I go?

What can I say?

Now that you have gone away.

The hour slipped so fast

I guess forever didn�t last

That moment---that time

When you set your soul with mine

For a second, then too lost and passing

Your hour did not last

but my forever will not pass.

Where can I go?

What can I say?

Now that you have gone away.

This Morning

(an image, a feeling)

it was one of those:

new full sun, green grass,

bite into an apple kind of days.

warm hands of a new sun

rubbed my back

fine pleasant lines were etched

on the sensation, courtesy

of a smiling west wind.

is that where the wicked witch came from?

who cares, the sun is smiling.

What do want it to be, a football field?

(read quickly w/ enthusiasm)

light dark

green greeen

green greeeen...

light as a feather

stiff as a board

green grass

lines run strait

cause it�s

just been mo�d

strait lines

no curves !

run up down

spread left right

fill the field

greeennnn...

smell the grass and I get that feelin again.