Broken Things
Broken Toys
Broken Boys
Things That Just Don’t Have a Home
No Past
No Future
Just the Eternity of a Moment
a Moment In Time
a Moment That Has Made you Blind
That Life Is One Big Lie
A Long Good Bye
to Every Thing you Once Held Dear
That Made you Smile
Made you Tear
a Faded Snap Shot In a Tattered Book
Over & Over you Look
#B27321
I have a dream. Enough said.
I have a dream. Enough said.
"Wait, that does not meet the minimum word requirement for this challenge! Can't just end there.Shoot," she thinks. "Have to say something to get it up," she tells herself as she hurridly searches the collassium of dead dreams for any that can be resurrected. She probes past skeleton ideas. Desires burried alive by callous symphonies entitled "you're never gonna make it." Those indeed never made it to reality.
"Try that one again." "No, this one" "this one had potential." She argues with herself. A heated cross examination. She is Judge, prosecutor and Defence. Which dream will stand? "Oh, remember Martin luther had a dream" she interjects herself with a non-sequitor so leisurely she forgets she's looking at her own dreams. She recollects saying "Mr Luther is a dead king now. You're still living so focus on living dreams. No use juggling dead men's thoughts." She continues more desparetly for the sake of preserving the integrity of this challenge. Realising she might be reaching 300 words, she asks herself to adjourn for a moment. She concludes by saying "I must want something. Something bigger than myself. It must be here. It must be that:
I have a dream. Enough said."
Circles
Things I Have Seen
In Drug Induced Dreams.
the Parting Of the Veil.
Could This Be Real.
I Knew you Were to Die
I Saw you Go Bye.
Not a Word Did you Speak
As you Slipped Into Sleep,
But I Saw In your Eyes
Some Thing That Haunts me InSide.
Maybe It Was Just Don’t Be Afraid
or Life Is More Than It Looks,
But I Can Not Decipher That Stare.
So When the Phone Call Came
It Rang & It Rang
& Sang of Decay.
I Was Not Surprised
Just Misty Eyed.
Though Nights When I am Alone
I Try to Break That Code,
But I Find
I Am Too Simple of Mind
& It
Falls Further From my Hand.
Maybe It Was Just the Mystery
I Needed to See
to Spur me On
to Greater Deeds.
I Do Not Know,
I Question So,
Circles Go
#B27321
Silent Reign
Silence
How
It
Reigns
a Rain
of Pain
to Cut
Furrows
In
the Hardest
Heart
the Stain
Of
the Grave
Holding Us
a Part
Putrid Flesh
That
Will Never
Heat
With Love
Again
Coffin Wood
Is Now
your Bed
my Dear
&
my Words
I Fear
you
Will Never
Hear
Just
the EndLess
Wait
to Join
your Side
the Reply
To you
& I
Never Separate
#B27321
Pay Back
I First Heard of Him
When He Came Before the Ethics Committee.
During the Trial of Edwin Mercer
Head of the Obama Corp,
For Crimes Against Humanity.
For the Genetic Testing & Research
He Had Conducted On Inmates
of Both Mental Health Facilities & Prisons
or Any One Else He Pleased
Like the Murder & Detainment
of Any One Who Got In His Way;
Families, Lawyers, Judges
He Killed Them All.
I Will Never Forget
How That Nondescript Man
Walked Down That Aisle
& Demanded
In a Booming Voice
I Claim the Oldest Law of Them All,
I Claim the Right of An Eye For An Eye,
Just As This Man Murdered So Many
He Shall Die
Not Coddled In a Cage
but Right Now
Like the Dog He Is.
I am
Pay Back
& Then
the Screaming Began
As the Bones Were Broken
From His Toes On Up
Till Just a Gurgling,
Mewing, Mess Was Left
& Then Just a Stain.
I Would Learn Later
He Was a Master of Disguise
As Well As
His Own Bodies Matter,
He Could Absorb Any Force Directed At Him
Then UnLeash It How & When He Chose.
Abilities Given to Him by the Very Corporation
of the Man He Had Just Killed.
He Was Test Subject
#B27321
& Now He Was a God
Now you Couldn’t Crack His Skin
or Poison His Wine
Now you Can’t Kill Him
He Just Won’t Die
Between the Bookends
My scanner is my archivist, with days, weeks, and months of taking each photo out of its sleeve and bequeathing to them 0s and 1s before they disintegrate. Albums off a shelf that contain a lifetime between two bookends.
"Mom Before Dad," photos of a baby, little girl, posing or not, happy or not, alive--life documented. Even though they're her memories, I'm with her from girlhood to pubescence to adolescent coquette. Didn't she feel my presence? I'm not just observing, I'm visiting.
"Wedding." The day I realized I was truly happy. I liked the way that felt. Human. Earlier that day, the family posed, as stiff as the old emulsion portraits from another album. Just in color, this time. Fade the color and they're like previous monochromic generations.
"Honeymoon." Acapulco poolside--casual innocence of dedicated monogamy. Quotidian sex. The gift of expressing love physically. Every honeymoon shot hints that we had been without clothing moments earlier. That smirk on my face. That smile on hers. So beautiful, nubile, and willing. Sex is a beautiful surrender.
Unconditional love for her as she sleeps one wall away, face softened, brow unfurrowed, lips slightly north of a neutral smile. The dark airbrushes her features. There is my young beauty again. I have walked with you today through your childhood, honeymoon, births and birthdays, and real life going on in the expressions on our children's faces. So beautiful.
Loving her is seeing her as I always have: holding my hand, dancing with me, marrying me, postcoitally clothed for the honeymoon camera, bellies with the unborn, mother of the born, co-parenting in the joys of raising children right. The bookends on the shelf fall.
But I don't need the dark. She glows in the dark for me. Framed forever for viewing later. Suddenly, mortality sounds lovely.