Poetry

Spaced in Time

The fairies were dancing while the flowers sang the tune.

The inter-dimensional membrane was broken through at last.

The floor was on the ceiling while the ceiling yelled for mercy, but the door was always open and the fireplace did roar.

The pumpkins were all lined up and the butterflies were hungry, but the bees made nothing but trouble for the trees and all their friends.

The wind just kept blowing, and I thought I’d seen enough, but the stream was flowing past me and I didn’t want to miss the show.

While the clouds kept hiding the sunlight, the fish began to shout obscenities to the memory of the fire that killed them all.

I never drank from a silver cup so who will fill it with the wine that it deserves, to toast the toast that we deserve?

To frame our lives in the window panes and hang them on the walls. What button do I push to end this nightmare?

The walls are staying where they have always been. It’s the floor that I don’t trust. The table told me stories, and the chair and I believed every word.

When the ink dries on this contract, I suspect that it will turn to dust and blow away in that damned wind that never stops.

If I yell any louder I’m sure I’ll wake the bell, and we all know what happens next. I would have too.

Immortals

The moon appears,
Wading through clouds of despair;

Looking upon the earth,
Gently throwing beams of light
           Where mortals tread

And the steeple appears,
Eerie reminder of man’s

Faith, hope,
And imminent mortality.

For we have built these steeples
Even knowing we must die

But relishing the thought that
god, in the whisper of the moonlight

Is smiling, upon our souls,

Promises of immortality.

The Stream

Flowing stream
Of infinite life.

            Swiftly
now,
Swiftly

Rush onward
Where you must.

Fattened by the
Melting winter

Swelled and covering
The rocks in your midst.

Now dry summer
Makes you gaunt and thin.

Where life once flowed
You leave

Stagnant pools of death.

Sadly now we wait
To see if you
Shall not also become a
Victim of time.

But then you are reborn
And immortal is your spirit,

With your veins
Become full again.

Truly you are life and death,

together.

The Path

I walked along that one-mile path
That felt the wrath
Of Blue and Gray
That bloody day.

Virginians must heed the call!
The ranks stood tall.
Fix bayonets!
Howl out your threats!

I walked along Lee’s final thrust.
Though fade it must,
It’s on the breeze-
The dying pleas.