So they gave me
The white pills
And the tan pills
The big pills
and cute little footballs
All very scientific
Stamped and approved
By the FDA

Would they change me?
Would I no longer be
Who I am?
They laugh at me
Ain’t that the point
You stupid mother fucker!

I took em
I hear them Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yaying
Through by bloodstream
like kids on a water slide
But when they get to my brain
Oh they get serious
I can hear the clang of hammers
And droning sounds of drills
And the rumble of heavy machinery
Earth movers and cranes
A mechanized symphony

And they don’t change me
They don’t change anything
Numb me for an hour or two
Bout it.

You can never fix a broken mirror
or read a book
With missing pages
Mute people can’t talk
And the deaf can’t hear
Some things are just meant
To be broken
cracked and imperfect
Some things are just meant
To bleed

So I can never have their love
or their joy
or their beauty
their contentments
their smiles

I don’t understand them
And they’ll never understand me
Nothing wrong with that
Just the way it is
Some things are just meant to be broken
Some things are just meant to bleed.

The Peak no longer grasps for the Sun
It’s shoulders huddled and drawn
Beaten down by time
It’s hands
Centurions
Marching towards distant conquests
Beating footpaths on it’s once proud crest

It settles unto itself
Taking council with memory
Past dreams of glory and vibrancy

Dims
Flickers
A candle which no longer battles darkness

The Mountain falls
yet
Remembers…

And Clint died

The clock nods
And says
“Just to remind ya dude“
Another year lays parcels
Into my pack

Oh the weight

But what of Love?
Cheap and tawdry
A bar stool whore
Eying advantage
Plundering
A Viking raping with guttural screams
The Poet can sing of it
I had my fill of it

And Clint died

Memories set the table of dreams
Preparing a feast
Begging for party favors
Dressed in Sunday finery
Hiding the thread worn elbows
And the yellowing white
Of faded innocence

No one will show
I never do
And memory will shed tears
And slowly fade
Dissolve
Dispersed into the wind tunnel of time’s inexorable march
Towards…
Something…
Some place…
Its last words always

“But what of Love?”

I smile
Let the Poet sing its glory
I had my fill of it

Besides

Clint is dead

A terrible battles wages
Between right and what is wrong
Emaciated haloed minstrels
Seeking power for their song

Demonic warriors in night black armor
Evil swords in blackened hand
A Paladin on a golden Chariot
Scarred and tortured
engaged in his last stand

Death struggles
Swords whirling and whining Thanatos’s refrain
On this Island
In this time
Reveals an ancient pain

On this Island
Through the misty veil of time
One lone Paladin on a golden chariot
Alone in epic struggle
Paying eternally for his crime

A single tear is shed
Vaporized by consummate fire
Forgotten water for the dead

Invisible tentacles
Push away the sky
Demonic hoards work gravity machines
And archaic machinery
Fueled by lust and burning souls
Faces replaced by black hearts
Not deigning to beat
Flying Iridescent insects wingless
Fall
Deeper Into the chasm

The insatiable void
Devours screams into silence
Just below the slow lurching rhythm
Of organic cogs pleading
For release…
Pleading to the supreme muscle
That will never cease.

The mechanisms of the hole
Have all become visible.
Each mask of flesh
And tissue has dissolved…
The pretense of all human issues
Has been resolved
With the clarity of a single glance
Inward–
Into the eye of raw primordial reality.

Eerie calm
Amidst the howling silence
Essence distilled
Granulated
Awaiting deployment
Shape Shifting shadows
With wands made of clouds
And abandoned bones
Prepare incantations
Ectoplasmic scripts float upward
Nucleotides seeking union amidst the pulsating mass
The Hole prepares for birth

All possible data
Has been collected
The embryo
Weathered by caustic evil
Intentionally unprotected
Emits a siren’s blaring cry
Of living…
Of living…
The initial sign
Of human life unforgiving.

It don’t give a Fuck
If you live
Or if you die

It just

Turns

And you die

One day at a time

Clocks do not exist in nature
Just our way
Of counting down

To check out time

Lord how we hate those ticks

Tick

Tick

Tick

It approximates the beat
Of a heart

Which

One day

Will no longer

Tick

Don’t worry bout it

The Carousel

Is still going

To

Spin

Layers of false hope strew the stage
Genetically predispositioned to save the gene
I am more than that fuckers!

Climb they implore
Can you not see the light?
I can not be blinded by false hope

Their penciled stick figured God
Would embrace me
Like some chick’s cheap fuck toy

Would you cheapen insanity?
Make it a crawling insect
Searching for death?

I stare at the world
In a ring made of cheap dreams
It ain’t good enough

I go deeper into the maze
The path is down
Not up

I am the last magician
But I ply no tricks
I just dig

Deeper

Deeper

Dance melancholy minuets

Accrued dust scatters

Faceless violins sigh

Mourners do not bother to take up the chant

Smoothing wrinkled skirts and checking fingernail length

Bored and distracted with parched eyes incapable of tears

Sounds wither and die

Vibrations stilled and uncaring

Settle in for the long sleep

Wind becomes breeze and breeze…

Lies motionless upon the mound

It’s cold’s time

Calming the whine of meaning and loss

Thoughts crumble and descend upon the sleeping earth

Lying beside portent shards of strange magik

It all goes away

Whirling down sweet silence

Leave me alone

Don’t wake me…

The suggestions to free

Cut and cauterized–

They’ve hurt me.

Have you not heard me pleading

For the release of all that caresses?

His release.

Have you not heard me begging to the presses

All these years?

I’ve done what was asked

Walked across acres upon acres of shards of glass

Passed razors through the maze of my soul

Dissected my heart with a monocle mirror

And I’m whole

I’ve forgiven my fingers

And I’m whole…



But his release–

His release demands of my mind’s eye

His suffering rakes the embers of my need

To sustain my high

Blistered and scarred

Rising to an inferno I can’t disregard

And my fingers beseech thee

As my conscience screeches to me daily

Release him

Just release him so my sight can see

He lives without me

Satisfactorily

Allow me to witness him serene

In the wild

Living out his most desired dream

And he will be filed under case closed.

I’ve done what was asked

I’ve inhaled the rose

And suffered each thorn as it passed

Licked the morning dew from your boots

Uprooted roots I thought would never be free

And rotated eyeballs to view within

The bloody internal massacre of sin and debris…

I guess I just don’t know what you want from me



But you know what I want from you

Oh you’ve always known what I want from you

And you hold it close to your chest

Under lock and key and duress

I could kill myself, leave a simple note of singular pleas

But you still wouldn’t give me what I need–

His release.

For his release is mine



And you’ll never let me go

Blistered and mangled

You’ll never let me go as such…

I’ve seen too much.



©Jen2010 1–31