Poem – The Four Horsemen

all the world shall then be trampled
neath the hooves of horses four
in due response the mouths of man
in woe will sing a fruitless roar

that final note of undue pride
will sound the end
of sin’s cruel song
And God will let his justice ride
four beasts abreast
four horsemen strong

Poem – Reveille

Sleep the silver moon is cooing

Soothing winds from sovereign lips

And her light it dims the sparking

Stars a lonesome comet flits

 

Sleep the skyward sea drains calmly

Shadows merging all below

Northern lights like scratches tally

The countless lights within the flow

 

Close your eyes it’s late for rising

Hear night sing the insects song

The lights out the window lying

To the dark man does not belong

 

Spare the lonesome cry of crime

The bustle of the streets is gone

You will close your eyes in time

The aging day exuding calm

 

Sleep son the fire of morn approaches

A tired man cant face the day

A night misspent your life it poaches

As to rest you do not have say

 

You’re not the sky always in motion

Close your eyes and die to time

Sleep son join the twighlight

For open eyes the suns a sign

Poem – Luck

Leave it to chance

Fortune favors the bold

Just roll once more

The snake eyes stare cold

 

Feel the cool rattle

Each corner each edge

No telling what follows

Luck is a hedge

 

Peer through the green

To the next cooridor

This lifes but a maze

And death is a door

 

Shortcuts seem godsends

But each is a trap

Fortune is fickle

Her favors are black

 

Dots on a white die

Roll for the sixth side

Hopes a fools gamble

In which even cynics confide

 

So roll child roll

Leave it to chance

Just roll once more

Lets watch the dice dance

I’m Sorry Old Friend

There are many things which once lost can never be recovered

And time, among them, is my most sought after friend

I have thrown him aside and found no benefit in losing his weight

My trudging forward growing only more monotonous in my disregard

I cannot retrieve what I have lost of him

But I can enjoy him to his full extent when my mind is clear

When my eyes are open

When my thoughts are sharp I can cut into myself

And pull out more than others do

When most would pull away from the pain I can push in

I can make up for what was lost

For the many scars others endured

I will endure deeper ones

For the drawn out pains they have bore

I will feel a burning harsher than they imagined

I will bring myself to an end

And will revisit it a thousand times until I look back on those far ahead of me

Until I blaze my own trail to death, I will not surrender

I will not be weak as I was

I refuse to march slowly now

Across the burning sands of this hour glass

I cannot throw time away again when I now harbor the realization

That I am bound within it

I Want a Fire

Fire.

I want a fire.

I need something burning under me that doesn’t need kindling every goddam morning. I don’t need a friend nor any compatriot. I don’t need a role model or a parent figure to tell me how to live my life or what to do.

I need a drive that will force me into the icy water to stave off the pain of the burning, to let comfort only reach me when I am buried in extremes. I need a hunger or passion. A dedication. Some ever-present thought to keep me busy, some torment to keep my mouth wet. Some temptation so endearing that my mind can never stray from whatever accomplishment I put before it. I want to be a valuable person. Intrinsically so.

I want to be a powerful person. Intrinsically so. Stripped of all money all social contacts, everything that I lean upon I want to till stand strong. No matter if I am ugly, if I am weak, crippled by pain or by weapon. No matter if I am stupid or forgetful, wracked by doubt and plagued with indecision.

I want to be, and indeed I will be strong.

I want a fire.

I will not fall again.

This is the man I want to be.

One who overcomes his cowardice and backs down for nothing. I want to be fearless. I want to have an incredible pain threshold because my unsayable determination’s unwillingness to give into any will other than my own.

I want to have complete control of my functions always. To take everything in stride, to suffer no fools, to seek no council with blind men. I want to be a man that others would look up to did they not fear him.

I want to learn to love pain’s excesses. To see at all times the trial that it presents. I want most of all to be capable of surmounting this obstacle, and any other.

I want to be deformed by scars that are testament to my strength, to not be decorated by the trivial black lines of losers, but to have my life written on my skin. Not in some purposeful ritual, but to live a life that leaves its mark on my body, that takes its toll on my features. A life that hardens me.

I want a fire.

I want to be a hard man, not a clown, gibbering and smirking like a fool. I am a clown.

So how do I throw off my clownish persona? How do I discard what I am and pick up another? How do I keep a resolution in my mind and not fall back?

They tell me I simply must learn to fall well but I believe they have failed in instructing me how to stay on the horse, how to grip and strain. The more I fail the deeper the trench grows and the greater the struggle it is to get back up.

I am tired of getting back up.

I want to stand firm and never fall again.

LET them break my legs from under me and my will preserve me.

Even if I fall in body my spirit remaining.

I want such a indominable power to course through me that such is their description of me when I face my enemies, when I look them in the eyes.

Not mere courage, not mere virtue, but raw unbridled power.

I want a fire.

Poem – Today

Today I will do something else

Today predicts tomorrows health

Today belongs not to the past

I live this day for it flees fast

 

Nevermind the wasted hours

Nevermind the callow youth

Nevermind my dull routine

I’ll work now for rewards unseen

 

Today Ill try fix all mistakes

Today not time enough to do

 

Today is but the starting line

To take my dull life and make it fine

Rat Lick

The rat licks.

In that lick is meaning. In that swipe of the tongue it learns.

Lick the rat.

 

The rat tastes you.

It tastes your wet skin. Delights in the fear secreted through your sweat glands. Nurtures its young with the tongue in its devouring mouth.

Taste the rat.

 

The rat knows you.

Now mingling with its saliva is the truth. Your emotions distilled into chemical compounds. Your thoughts given form.

Know the rat.