There’s no one cheering anymore,
All the applause has died;
Here in this grand abandoned place
Anamneses abide
I walk the field of glory,
With my memories in tow;
And soak in spectral accolades
From long, long years ago
Loud kudos to the conquering ones!
They shout for all their worth —
The days when we were champions
True giants of
The earth
The mind takes flight
And soars way over
Out to Castle Hill;
The blue-gray skies
Are overhead
The churning surf, downhill
The beacon burns
To bring back home
The wayward and sea-tossed:
But though it tells me
Where to go,
I yet
Will wander
Lost
You tell me fighters never ever quit,
And if I won’t, I’ll beat this damned disease.
But I don’t know about that. Not a bit.
I take the time I have to try to squeeze
An extra minute (here or there) of joy;
Because I do not know that I will win.
I’m daily tempted to mock and destroy;
But this I must resist. It is a sin.
You see, maybe, this is what I must face:
That some will wax in life, while others wane.
Reality is now, this time, this space:
The daily, constant company
Of pain
He was surprised she caved
Because she never had before;
But once he touched her lust
He didn’t need to argue more
She showed him, forcefully
Just how to empty her full cup:
The hours that he’d need
If he was merely
To keep up
I
Was flat upon my chest
And crawling on the ground
Trying to keep
My small head down
My brother in the grass
Dressed up in army green
Back where we
Two could not be seen
And then I heard a crack
And saw him
Still
Like a GI Joe
Left out on the bedroom floor
Love
Is not perfect people
Perfectly suited
Love, rather
Is imperfect people
Dedicated to nurturing
The good in each other
And themselves
Admit it: you’ve had crushes on
Some bloggers that you’ve read:
It is a trick that words can play
Once they are in your head
For there’s no pale reality
Even from back in youth –
To match the pictures in our mind
When we
Don’t know
The truth
According to some twaddlecrat
Out on their YouTube page
In one song, they’re “a little sharp”.
This causes him to rage —
I find this rather humorous
The insults that are hurled
At anyone who’s close to being
The best in the world
At night I’ll read
When I am lost
And cannot get
A moment’s rest
My mind I’ll feed
While trouble-tossed
And find there, yet
The minutes blessed
And, funny how
I read along
Enthralled clean through
My beating heart
That only now
When I’m not strong
Do I turn to
Great works of art
