Hurricane Irene

Running away from the Church 
Your wedding dress blowing over our homes
Your wind that used to host memories of old
Now blow nightmares. 


Your rain that breast fed our land
Are now tears falling with a vengeance.
You dropped your bouquet of flowers in the streets while you ran
And so you dropped the trees and roofs of our homes


The death of your happiness
The pain of your loss
Gave birth to pain to us
And the losses we now have to bear.


Every step you took splashing in the water
Overflowed our banks and came into our homes
Your heart broken whaling in the wind
Now has our children screaming for what was...just like you.


Now you're gone
Never to be heard from again
Like a woman left at the alter
That innocence will never be regained.

Anonymous

The following piece was originally done by a friend who asked me to put my spin on it.  The original piece nor it's owner will never be revealed.


Your army of scorn
Plunders my heart's village.
You burn down my temple of hope
You destroy my garden of the future
Trampling on petals of dreams, dreams of us


Every gunshot fired at me drowns out my screams
Screams of despair that will soon lose meaning.
Your face laughing at me in slow motion
While you rape...my body...my soul
Gifts I gave to you
That you...swore to protect


But when your storm of scorn is over
When your guns have no more bullets of pain to thunder my sky
And your belly is full from eating my body and my soul
In that silence...I will speak.

Why Are We Here

Why are we here? I dunno, do you? Religion and science has fought to fill that gap for centuries.  I'll just say that God is the greatest scientist ever.  Sounds simple enough huh.  But if it were that simple then when the perpetual battle for inner peace, why the need to rule, or even be accepted?  We've spent a millennia  decipherig the winner or the "all-end" statement.  Even these days we're looking for the "god" particle. I'm sorry if you're reading this looking for an oxymoronic existentialistic Freudian "ah hah" cure for that lingering question in the back of your head.

In the end, we're here and we've filled this planet with love, hate, disaster, technology, crime, medicine, politics, money (or lack thereof), religions, laws and whatever else you can come up with while you're reading this. Whether you believe in something or not, the next few seconds are dependent on what you just did and what you're thinking about doing....action and desire...desire and action, whichever way you want to arrange it, feel free.  

So I'll spare you the big words, the schools of thought and the "deep" exegesis statements.  Why are we here, here's my answer, don't worry about it, you're here, you know what good and bad is, so pick a way to live and live it until death says otherwise.

Clocks

The lights glow through the upstairs windows of this beautiful house, escaping into the night air.  Tonight, the windows seem sad though, as you would draw in a cartoon. The slight echo of his car approaching his beautiful house.  He built this house, every edge, every corner, every curve. Only a slight wind survives the engine on this cool summer night, felt and heard as he walks to his front door.  Tonight his door is in pain and is yearning for him to come in.  The walls cry out "save us". But he can't hear them.  Their sad faces, begging for freedom, from the chains they had to wear tonight. But he only sees his beautiful home, this beautiful home that he built. "Save us" they cry in a hoarse whisper stained in pain.  All their faces looking to their master to save them.  Walking  upstairs, again, "save us master".  You could see their hands, pointing his way up the stairs.  Tonight in his beautiful home, the windows, the walls, the lamps, the tables, the chairs, grow into a feverish chant, "save us, save us, save us"...pointing and chanting. The chanting builds as he approaches the door and stops immediately as he puts his hand on the door and opens it.  In his beautiful house, in his beautiful room, beautiful red satin sheets move as his beautiful wife made love to another man. The roaring chanting voices that he couldn't hear before were now bursting in his head and he heard his walls in his house screaming at him to save them.  They do not hear him as their bodies fell in a heap of sweat and lust, entangled between his beautiful red satin sheets.  As he hears his walls calling for him to free them from witnessing this treason, screaming like mad dogs at their master, they did not hear him when he opens the draw and aimed.

BANG...BANG...BANG...BANG...until all the clocks in his beautiful house finished their 12 gongs.

Silence filled the house like the end of a scream in a dark dungeon, never to be heard again. his walls were happy again.  The windows, smiling, the furniture, still.  Their bodies lay, motionless, as he did standing...standing, in his beautiful house.

Red Love

You hug me

you feel my arms take you

but they are chains

You kiss me

trying to ignite your passion

but I bleed poison down your throat

You give yourself to me

 falling into bliss

But I am only steeling your soul

You feel like your in heaven

and you lose yourself to paradise

but your only in my dungeon

You think to yourself,

Finally

But for me, your just another one.

The Dog Walker

On all fours...

muscled,  moving with a sway like he's looking for a fight.

Muzzeld...

Canines peeking out as merely a show of the disaster he would cause.

Chained..

controlled, dragged by a stronger force

move in the wrong direction and tugged back into order

Owned...

his freedom is not his

he will never control anything other than what falls off his masters table.

You...

When they stand in church and you don't stand

that's the devil holding you down.

When the church is singing and your remain silent,

that's a muzzle that the devil has locked around your head.

As the congregation raises it hands in praise without you

The devils chains tighten around your arms and get heavy

When the pastor asks, "who wants to give your life to the Lord, step up today".

you can't,

because you're owned.