Memories....all alone in the moonlight... I can smile at the old days--I had friends then.
wow.
that's pretty much the only word for life.
wow.
take it how you will. it's good and bad.
that's the beauty. ........ and the curse.
I know it sounds perverse.
but that's the way it is.
just when you think you know where everything is,
a bullet comes out of nowhere and blindsides you.
or, in my case, a curb.
and an un-timely return.
and an unfortunate loss.
and a lot of tears.
and swollen eyes.
and renewed fears.
I don't know how much more of this year I can take.
I thought last year was about as much as possible,
but now I know that there are many different kinds of stress,
many different ways of dealing with stress,
and many different side-effects.
none are really understandable.
that almost makes it better by how much it makes it worse.
isn't good that there isn't reason to the rhyme?
then where would we be?
a song.
and even then, most of it's off-rhyme.
kind of like life.
or at least mine:
off.
always slightly off.
off-balance,
off-kilter,
off-course,
offset,
often
offensive,
offending,
offputting,
off limits.
shit, son.
can't you see the west was already won?
so why did has this new battle begun?
all the memories
I used to treasure between dreams
have all faded to dust,
ashes beneath the flames.
but do you wish to reunite
against all impending odds
the golden prophet
and its vilest sight?
for these lines we cross
with sin and transgression
are really transferable dues
as we switch possession
of hearts and goals
and minds and eyes.
If we could only truly see
the real light, the real prize
maybe all the memories
would once animate
themselves and me
with our twisting fates.
It is too late, I fear,
for the silence was merely peace
between one war and another
just waiting for the first to cease.
These memories,
Hovering
without gravity
in space,
take up much more
than their due place
with the tears and pain
caused by each
and the joy removed
with each one's speech,
soft enough to pierce my ear
with its calculated, sharp,
heartbreaking preach.
No, I do not know how
to take these memories
in stride, ignoring
their obnoxious gleam,
full of hateful power
and endless steam,
clouding the mirror
through which I once used to see.
that's pretty much the only word for life.
wow.
take it how you will. it's good and bad.
that's the beauty. ........ and the curse.
I know it sounds perverse.
but that's the way it is.
just when you think you know where everything is,
a bullet comes out of nowhere and blindsides you.
or, in my case, a curb.
and an un-timely return.
and an unfortunate loss.
and a lot of tears.
and swollen eyes.
and renewed fears.
I don't know how much more of this year I can take.
I thought last year was about as much as possible,
but now I know that there are many different kinds of stress,
many different ways of dealing with stress,
and many different side-effects.
none are really understandable.
that almost makes it better by how much it makes it worse.
isn't good that there isn't reason to the rhyme?
then where would we be?
a song.
and even then, most of it's off-rhyme.
kind of like life.
or at least mine:
off.
always slightly off.
off-balance,
off-kilter,
off-course,
offset,
often
offensive,
offending,
offputting,
off limits.
shit, son.
can't you see the west was already won?
so why did has this new battle begun?
all the memories
I used to treasure between dreams
have all faded to dust,
ashes beneath the flames.
but do you wish to reunite
against all impending odds
the golden prophet
and its vilest sight?
for these lines we cross
with sin and transgression
are really transferable dues
as we switch possession
of hearts and goals
and minds and eyes.
If we could only truly see
the real light, the real prize
maybe all the memories
would once animate
themselves and me
with our twisting fates.
It is too late, I fear,
for the silence was merely peace
between one war and another
just waiting for the first to cease.
These memories,
Hovering
without gravity
in space,
take up much more
than their due place
with the tears and pain
caused by each
and the joy removed
with each one's speech,
soft enough to pierce my ear
with its calculated, sharp,
heartbreaking preach.
No, I do not know how
to take these memories
in stride, ignoring
their obnoxious gleam,
full of hateful power
and endless steam,
clouding the mirror
through which I once used to see.