Monday, December 19, 2016

Awake, Alive

Awake, alive
Lit up like the fourth of july
This holding cell
This prison camp
Weighs heavy on the undertones
Of mistakes I regret
And chances I didn’t take
She is a demon, haunting the hallways
Whispering my transgressions
Slinging hateful rhetoric
About building walls and fucking them all to death

It wanes, my once cerebral assurance
That all is well, that all will resolve
Now, the sins of my forefathers
The blood on my hands
Starts to spread, to take hold of the inches
The millimeters now, separating truth from a lie
Death from  life

And I sit, unable to rise
Flooded by waves of uncertain self-loathing
Mornings spent waiting for the afternoon
Nights spent waiting for the morning
In hopes that some resolution will come
Waiting, hopefully not in vain
But most likely in vain

So, what the hell
Come lord Jesus come
Come Advent, the fires of hell
Come the New World, Westward expansion,
Space travel
The next frontier
The next beyond
That hope in something new

Until it comes

And lets me down again.

I Miss the Certain Thing

I miss the certain thing
The unending to allegiance to a word
I miss waking in the morning, steps laid out
But temporary steps
And the sound, swelling
Of all the world before me
Rooms of houses, filled to the brim
With dying voices, tearing
Into one another with reckless uncertainty

I miss the yes being yes
The no being no
The maybe being no
The later being no
But the yes
Used to be yes

I miss the quiet morning
Swimming in oblivion
Feeling guilt of the last night’s transgressions
Knowing that redemption was out there
That someday I would find it
Before i realized the truth
That my hope is unwarranted
That I have myself condemned myself
To wanton uncertainty
Hopelessly faithful to my own demise

I miss the silence
To sit and see and sense
That broken I have come, and in darkness
To this place of noise and nonsense
Of death by distraction
And never ending screen time
My greatest aspiration
When the world was dragons and lightsabers
And I was a huddled mass of potential

I miss the infinite unknowing
A cloud that hovered overhead
When not knowing was sufficient
And hope was all I had
to hang my hat upon
Now, I am captive
To the world at my fingertips
To the whispers of deceit
That tell me I am all there is
This soiled world, small and shrinking
Is ever mine to appropriate

And I miss it, insignificance
Knowing beyond knowledge
Hoping beyond hope
That I am not the means nor ends
Nor medium nor method
Just a seed on a stone

Floating through the infinite cosmos

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Christmas in a Minor Key

The minor key
the world came crashing down
we all believed
in the distractions that we found

the war we waged
from darkened shanty towns
it set the stage
for death and desolation

and in those streets
the darkness caustically
it rose to meet
our hollow pagentry

of Christmas Day
the carols from our mouths
they died away
as we saw the world for what it was

We sing
a minor key
That all is dead and dimming
I see
in effigy
This evil that’s within me

In Bethlehem
the world awaits is dawn
a diadem
to right what has gone wrong

So this is war
a new phenomenon
to right the score
Life itself has come

So stand we now, and sing a tune
come, all arise to meet it
As darkness terrible and true
is finally defeated

A turning of the tide
This baby we behold
His name is hope