A Reliable Cycle

A Reliable CycleA Reliable Cycle

Car stalls.
Stillness in the early morning.
No sun yet.
Fog and cloud mingle with the full moon like tendrils grasping for possession.
I wait.
Engine turns over.
On the road again.
The moon devoured.
A sky bound feeding frenzy.
Deep darkness.
Car stalls.
5 miles to go
I wait.
Engine turns over.
On the road again.
The moon escapes the maw.
It makes a dash for freedom.
The tendrils lose their grip.
Moon slides behind a mountain.
I am jealous.
No reprieve for me.
Car stalls.
2 miles to go
I wait.
Engine turns over.
On the road again.
The sun paints the sky with its morning yawn.
Color at war with the vast armies of the night.
A reliable cycle.
A predictable outcome.
Car Stalls.
A half mile to go.
I wait.
Engine turns over.
On the road again.
The sun douses me with its first light.
I am radiant.
I am blinded.
I am almost there.
50 feet to go.
Car stalls.

 

 

 

Man in the Mirror (Happy Halloween!)

Happy Halloween 2017.

I recently wrote a piece for a Halloween themed Flash Fiction Event. I thought it would be fun to record a quick video and throw it up on YouTube. But, if you just want to read, the words are also below.

 

“The Man in the Mirror”

 

Welcome back doctor, you are well I hope?
No don’t bother, I know the usual trope
Are you ready to examine me under your microscope?
I am ready to share now, I will succumb to your hopes.

Your hopes, your hopes but what of my hopes?

I take it you want me to explain my tale?
I warn you now, you will think me mad, a liar, worthy of jail
I have told a few others but to no avail
They do not believe it, thus far the truth has not prevailed

The truth, the truth, the truth will prevail

Why am I speaking in rhymes you want to know?
It simply eases my pain and lessens my woe
The loss of my wife was, you see, quite a blow
Although, you think I am guilty, that I know

The woe, the woe, you cannot possibly know.

It was early morning when I woke from my doze
The darkness still sparkled, the sun had not rose
I shifted and turned in the chair that I chose
I shut my eyes tight but they would not stay closed

Stay closed, stay closed, if only they’d stay closed

I moaned, for sleep was scarce indeed.
The first colors of the morning had begun to bleed.
I sat up in the chair and tried to proceed
But long bouts of insomnia had sapped me indeed.

Nights without end, indeed, indeed.

I rose from the chair and the world started to spin
I pawed my way to the bathroom so my day could begin
I glanced at my reflection and I did not find twin
But instead staring back was a strange man with a grin.

That grin, that grin oh the horror of that grin.

His face was like mine, but something was wrong
We stared for a while, time looped and grew long
His eyes like questions, hypnotic and strong
My terror grew deeper for a mirror is never wrong

Distorted and cracked but never wrong

How much time passed? I could not say
But I will never forget what happened that day.
For the man in the mirror, he wanted to play.
And the game that he liked? Command and obey

Obey, obey I had to obey. My gaze was fixed, I had to obey.

It was not a good game, it was cruel you see
For he was trapped in the mirror and he wanted control of me
He wanted my life, he wanted to be set free
A curse had trapped him there for all eternity

The curse, the curse he wanted to be free.

A blood sacrifice was required of course
Not a chicken, nor a goat, not even a horse
At first, I resisted, I fought with all my force
But my will was finite compared to his source

Centuries of hate were his near infinite source

He compelled me to do it, to his will I was bound
You may think me mad, that my mind is unsound
But those eyes, those greedy eyes, so wide and so round
I could not resist his will, I was bound

Bound, bound, soon we will all be bound.

He beckoned me to the kitchen, and made me grab a knife,
And then he sent me upstairs to find my sleeping wife,
I entered our room full of struggle and strife
But his desires were strong and he wanted her life

Her life, your life, bound in the blood and knife

The rest you can guess I am sure it’s quite clear
After all, I’m famous, the case of your career
Crazy as It might seem we are bound right here
Do you feel it yet doctor? That tingle? That fear

The fear, the fear are my intentions yet clear?

And now doctor, I have you, you are all mine
You lingered too long, you dallied for the last time.
I captured you with my lyrics and rhythms and rhymes
I’ve been trying to find the right vessel and now you are mine

Mine oh mine, you are all mine

You see, the sorcerer in the mirror managed to get free
But his body? Long gone and so he found a home in me
But something about me is inadequate you see
I am dying and to a new body he must flee

This body will crumble, oh doctor, it’s too late now to flee

Come closer now doctor and stare into my eyes
That’s it I beckon, I compel, I promise you no more lies
That’s right doctor, give in, resistance is unwise
Let down your barriers, let me try you on for size

Wonderful, what a fit, what an excellent prize.

Now to find the descendants of my captors and bring about their
demise.

Persist???

Persist?

Persist

Oh but what of my beating heart?

My legacy?

My primitive suspicion that I am never who I think I am?

Would I stop this tidal flow of my blood?

Coursing like rivers through rivulets.

Or would I rivet steel to the exterior of the structure?

To strengthen it artificially.

Who does that armor really hold up?

Something must give.

Me or the Way.

The Way or Me.

The desert is long with sandstorms brushing my teeth with the gritty taste of my ineptitude.

What does it take,

To let me join the rest of humanity?

I let my blood drip in the sand,

Smeared from where I raise my feet.

Bloody footprints, Bloody memories, Bloodshot eyes.

Swollen fat tongues drooling with arrogance like circus clowns so simply certain

Persist!

A great command.

One foot in front of another!

A great sentiment.

But what if there is no blood left when I arrive?

I am cacophony.

 

The Quality of Autumn

The Quality of Autumn 

Quality of Autumn

 

Pangs of the heart come as the days shorten with a kind of softening bitterness.

What will this end bring?

What will any end bring?

Something new?

For me?

I suspect more of the same.

Wheels upon wheels of an endless autumn, not one step further.

Where is my spring? Has she been lost in the depths of the winter?

A wandering widow who never again finds home?

I lay in the browning grass.

I feel the crunch of leaves in my palms.

I squeeze to feel the assemblage of their wreckage.

Bittersweet memories.

Sleepless nights.

I open my palm.

I am the fragments of leaves scattered on the backs of the wintering winds.

Naked.

Return

Return

Return

It is beckoned by gravity’s song,

Pulled ever forward, ever along.

Dodging left and right,

Hoping to stay out of sight.

The secret is here, in the act,

In the movement, in the contract.

Down it goes, it jerks, it resists,

Until it mergers from a single kiss.

It kisses some more and increases its speed,

It becomes heavy, weighted down, a larger bead.

It clings tight, to the metal, all it knows,

But it cannot grasp forever, it must let go.

It loses its grip and cascades down,

It lands in the water but does not drown.

Instead, it merges, it melds, it becomes,

Connected existence, it succumbs.

And remembers it forgot all that it knew,

Connected and one, the only real view.

Space and potential, potential and space,

Here, at last, it knows a joy it can embrace.

The Mastery

The Mastery

The Mastery

It’s all there,

What we once were,

What we are.

It never left the heart.

I assure you.

 

Patient Shadows can abide in darkness.

And As we walk forward on the grated metal path,

Can you hear that echo against your feet?

It means you’re moving.

It means you’re making progress.

But what progress is needed,

When it’s all there already?

There’s no need to deny it.

I assure you.

 

Patient Shadows burn in the brilliant light,

They don’t mind.

There’s no pain.

I assure you.

 

Do you see the path yet?

It’s outlined,

it’s obvious

What’s the matter?

Don’t you trust it?

Your eyes don’t deceive you.

It’s safe,

I assure you.

 

The shadows is in you,

Why do you run?

Turn,

Stop.

Smell the sweet scent of the flowers.

Or the Fucking Roses.

Does your heart quicken?

It should.

There’s no puzzle,

No pieces missing.

It’s all there.

I assure you.

 

But don’t listen to me.

Maybe I’m a lying bastard.

Look up,

Walk the path,

See the shadows,

Smell the roses,

Find the fuck out for yourself.

That’s the only way you’ll know.

I assure you.

The Language

The Language

The Language

Like scratches of the mad prisoner,

The symbols take shape.

Emergence…

Whispering like ghosts,

My ears only hear,

Their maddening consistency.

Beginning…

Pressing forward out my eyes,

Soft black tears,

Dripping downward.

Then…

Running down my arm,

The ink creeps forward,

Towards its destiny.

Form…

It splashes onto the moth

As colorful as its wings may be,

Black ink still stains,

Keeping forever echoes.

Tattoos of transformation,

Touching timidly

Until,

At Last…

 

Of What Mountains Are Made

 

Of What Mountains Are Made

Of What Mountains are Made

Heartbeat,

Heartache,

Heartbeat,

Heartache,

Round the circle,

It forms from further away.

Shadows casting nets,

Masking my face,

They don’t let me see through their gaping holes.

All I see is the rope that binds me.

It’s is a beautiful rope and bares further inspection.

See the weave?

See the loom that made it?

See the origins of the great net in which we are bound?

Bound or unbound?

We need only stand.

We need only move.

And the weave unravels.

You have a choice,

Heartbeat

Heartache

Heartbeat

Heartache

Are they different?

Wisdom Sits

Wisdom SitsWisdom Sits

 

Some of us chase it.

Like a lioness stalking a gazelle

We hope that after many failed hunts,

We will learn that right moment to strike,

We will learn that effortlessness,

So that we may gorge ourselves,

And feast on the entrails of the great masters.

 

Some of us read and study

And spend endless days tallying terms and ideas

Like accountants during tax season

We hope that one day,

The great epiphany will rise,

Like a snake’s head in tall grass.

And all the words will belch,

Their great secrets,

Granting Enlightenment

 

But often,

When we find it,

Its simplicity confounds us.

Some have a glance or receive a cursory nod,

But those who merge with it,

Who like butter on bread merge and meld for a better taste,

They understand its simplicity.

Wisdom Sits.

 

Time is Running Out

Time is Running Out

Time is Running Out

You waited too long.

Too damn long.

Clocks shatter and broken glass shimmers.

Autumn has ended and the barren winter has given birth,

To decay and putrid fragrances.

Your grave lay ready,

It smiles at you.

It is an excavation of earth and stone,

An expedition into entropy.

Patience you said,

The right moment.

Excuses.

Lay down.

Let me pour the earth over you,

So that you can taste it.