Desolate My People Go

The world is dreariness today
The whole dang town seems haunted:
It’s very cold and gray outside
And that’s just how I want it

I like the feeling that I have
That nature doesn’t care;
Beneath the dull immensity
That I’m just barely there

The world is large and heartless,
And is deaf to our demands:
This cold indifference spreads across
All peoples in all lands

And desolate my people go
Behind their walls of stone:
There is no earthly paradise
We’re all
The hell
Alone


 
(“Desolate My People Go” – 12/31/2014)

The Perfect

She grew up in the perfect home,
And learned their perfect ways
Of flawlessness in imagery
Through golden-colored days.

And people think she has it still,
In life, and mien, and dress —
So why is it that she’s so filled
With perfect

Emptiness?

How Will I Hide Today?

How will I hide today?
If I could jettison this heart,
I think that just might be a start:
The callous live and walk and breathe
And seem so oft to be at ease —
I want to feel the more a little less
I must confess.

Make sure that no one knows…
This is the art I’ve mastered now,
As I explore the subtle how,
And glide through every harmless scene
With my innocuous, dull mien,
Presenting someone here who isn’t there,
Or anywhere.

So I will skate this ice.
The day is pale, the sky is gray,
And I was meant to be this way:
The summer turns inside to cold,
And what’s ‘experienced’ but old?
How will I hide myself today?

And who cares

Anyway

Depressive Thoughts – 3

The woods are bright here, in the autumn sunshine;
This old, abandoned place way off the road —
I think about the old ones, long forgotten;
Their many faces crowd into my mind

That they were babies, kids – had youth and passion –
Before the stretching years gave them to me;
They’d seen their ardor out of fashion falling,
The wise among us: petrified, ignored

Who owned this lonely cottage I can’t Google,
Although, upon their maps, I see it’s there —
Technology knows everything and nothing
That matters anyway, why we should care

For most do not – don’t care – and never have done;
We live within a blind, selfish desire —
And life leads onto life, with old life dying;
So few that will remember we were here

This old, abandoned building, my companion;
The long-forgotten ones, they are my friends —
This old, abandoned building in the sunshine:
The end of all our damp
And empty
Lives

Depressive Thoughts – 2

The clouds were laughing, smiling on their way;
They left him far behind, without a glance —
He called for them to wait, so he could play,
But he’d not been invited to their dance

Inclusion was a verb he’d never known
As stars, and birds, and friends all flew their course —
He cried for someone, somewhere to slow down;
He had none of the marriage, just divorce

And so beneath the shadow of the day,
He found a bus abandoned in a glen —
And thought of all the things that he would say
If ever there was someone there
Again