A few old efforts at poetry, from when it was passable.
Poetic Pieces V
What words we wore, but who were you? I opened my arms on an August evening and open they laid all night, empty and inviting. Yawning, yelling, yelping, yearning yellow skies other guys have never seen. Winding around my room as a ruby-red ribbon, wrapping around candlesticks and stolen books penned by broken men burried far away. I can get close to no one while IÆm awake, and sleep is lonelier still. See me pray, see me sigh and sing and dream, assemble my mind like a Lego set, never coming out coherent. Nothing like the picture on the box.
I thought about you tonight.
The sun sank into sackcloth,
Sullen and silky, sorrowful,
And night crept in,
The world wrapped in mourning,
A sliver of light above.
The light was you.
To dare, to dream, to daze,
Weep for fantasies unfulfilled,
And in the sky of pitch you glowed,
A world that cried for a dream,
I thought about you tonight
When the birds lined the wires
And the city settled down.
Quiet became me, overtook me,
Sitting on a stoop at sunset,
Sitting still at nightfall.
Waiting for the light above
To descend, mysteries and muses
But the glimmer of hope out late,
In the Morning
In the morning by the turning
glowing rising ball of glories dying
fading, shaded, jaded by the
instant instinct shooting through the
atmosphere of false starts torn apart
by clawing, digging, breeding beasts
waiting by the morning sun
and still we awake, each one alone.
Waiting with an arm at rest on a dingy dress
Disgusted with my alignment in life
With an untrue tribute paid through sleepwalking
Sitting slow and stupid behind a particle board
She sits smiling shifting through some short
On death and dying and heroes harnessed
And I only want out
and by the break of day,
a sweet time
to feel this way.
to hear you say
that you want me,
as dusk fades.