The Long Call

I'm on the phone,
            waiting for you,
       to pickup the line,

    but i will not see,
 that you fell,
       asleep,

That prolonged silence,
                     is deafening.

Trouble

Everyone has their trouble,
But we all manage,
to somehow,
get by.

Wal-mart

Everyone wants wal-mart prices,
But not wal-mart wages.

Constant Change

A rhyme on a dime,

Sets a sun,
To clear all visions,

Relives life without provision,

And brings back,
The night time revision,

Filled with riddles

The Hypnotic Sun

      Forgetting,
The sun rises,
           Befuddles,
     With terrible heat,

End of Days

The world will not end,
in a nuclear holocaust,
or a meteorite disaster,

The world will not end,
in a great flood,
or an ice age,

The world will not end,
in a volcanic eruption,
or a vicious drought,

So for all you,
doomsday sign makers,
just so you get it right,

The end of us,
Is not the end of the world.

Run Around

I'm giving you the run around,
                          that twenty-four seven,
                  circle of frustration,
                             Today,

there's no end in site,
               that worn out path,
         has doomsday clouds,
                Rolling in,

and as rain falls,
                   reality calls,
to see if you had enough,

But your eyes of defiance,
             move toward your goal,
         as mother nature,
takes her toll,

all over you,

Re-Write Icy Coffin

An Icy Coffin - September 11, 2008

A car is buried,
Beneath snow and ice,
With moonlight,
Seeping though,
The breaks in the snow,

Within this igloo,
An eerie silence,




Green,
flashes
12:00 O’clock,

This radio,
Is lost in time,



Your hand reaches,
Forward in guidance,
And turns a knob,
Awaiting that soft click,

The hiss of no reception,

With the Frost built up,
On your joints,
You slowly move your hand,
To the tuning knobs,

Searching,
For the song,
That may be,
Your last,
air wave.


An Icy Coffin July 26th 2008
A car is buried,
Under snow and ice,
With moonlight,
Seeping though,

Inside,
The radio is silent,
But glowing,
Green,
Awaiting instructions,

A hand reaches,
Forward,
a soft click,

Slowly,
Turning the knobs,

Searching,
is the only option now,
For the dead mans,
Last song,

The Cook

Put yourself together,
Young Amputee,
Mend the broken pieces,
Sow them till you bleed,

Your,
Just full of holes,
The butchers hands,
are swings,

Screamings hard,
without your tongue,
Red darkness,
the artery sun,

Gushing geysers,
breathless words,
slit this throat,
for a blood stained sweater.

An Inebriated State

Look Out Below

I am crashing,
falling from the heavens,
looking up,
but being smothered down,
Below the clouds,
like a vicious wind current,
devoured,
by the free fall,

unable to contemplate,
a concurrent thought,

my mind races toward uncertainty,

in this inebriated state,
i am unable to move,
a thought without fireworks,
exploding randomly inside the brain.

ash falls to the ground,
to escape the chaos,
and creates,
a sheet of grey like snow,
for me to rest upon,

No Sleep

Your heart drops,
to the basement level,
as loud screeching,
fills your mind,

a syncopated beat,
that will distract any sleep,

i am contemplating,
falling asleep,
where i am,
for fear,
that i can not get up,

But alas,
the hand resting on my head,
feels better,
then the hand typing the keyboard,

Two Randoms

One Way Trip
Ride away,
Ride away with me,
Carry your baggage,
Carry it along you'll see,

The distant lands,
like tokyo,
we'll chase a dragon,
through the world,

And slowly fade out of phase.

A Painters Thought

Think of landscapes,
the greens blues mixed with grey,
water flowing,
paint drips in disarray.