silence is soft
wicked wind whispers
chrome hot
spouts jets
chlorine mists
town treated tanks
from brick huddled river
House
the stopper not set
but the water rises
like nights hours
thundering in the
clawed white pool
peeling paint
wooden floor
full of its tell tale
creaks
waiting
Lurid moons wash
crawls across
the setting
a ghost fallen
seeking warmth
of fleshes illumination

tub tap turned stop
hollow drips
candles lit

Fall of the Great and Terrible.
1.
Locked in a fortress, miles below ground, lurks an age-old menace not to be found.
Sleeping in grottoes once ruled by men, now ravaged by smoke, is the dragons den.
Treasure of lore surround every side, and all that glitters beheld by his eye.
Day in, day out, he wallows in riches. Foot, by foot. Inch, after inches.
The sun doth not shine, nor the moon to glow, in the deepest caverns of the world below.

God Isn't Mad At You

From the rolling hills of the plains of Colorado
To the sea to shining sea
We can trust in Jesus & sing a sweet homily
It's not based whether were good enough cause we all fall to the extreme

Shadows block the promises out of mere darkness people scream
Through light with the love sent from heaven up above
Sullen price to a cost that was for you & me
Let us humbly bow the knee

Our castle is filled with jewels and crystal chandeliers.
Lasers flash on and off heightening my senses and fears.
Rainbows of light bounce off the white plaster dome.
In the morning, the sun light reflects off all the chrome.
The crystal prisms spin and flash colors so bright.
Like all fantasies, this dream is just God’s light.
I close my eyes and you are always in my sight.

One starry night a month ago
An umbilical fibre stubbed my toe
I chanced upon this cord pulled tight
Shiny and dancing yet very light

It came from a dark and handsome
Man whose talent is feted throughout the land
His words are revered in soft applause
But another abides behind his closed doors

Hiding behind a spurious mask which is sniffed at and sidelined, left-over and last
This foppish fool seeks only your eyes
And bathes in your favour and swims in his lies

wane
drank the wine
somehow the priest shot him a bottle
Kept an eye on the church
knew all the addicts
who leaned against the warm
limestone
the night patrol groups
he was 3rd Bat back in the day
different then the old Flattop pilots
who talked about training in Michigan
the hot rod Merikan rotary fighters
Everyone I knew young and old
had flashbacks
He talked me into picking up
a good solid poncho from the
surplus
spending "watch" eyeing up
the entrance of the alley

Here lies someone
Absent be thy name
and November comes
their job is done
and indeed they are in heaven.

Who are you?
I wish to thank you for all you have done
for the place you have left for me
By leaving yourself

What is your name?
Are you the weeds that live
Where you once lay?
The courage in the dandelion
or the strength in the grass ?

Enough reflection
Implement course of action
Proper decision

The Real Walking Dead

We are living among the dead yet they don't know it yet
Through darkened tunnels of logical persuasion with evil minds that plug
The destructive measure of mankind having eyes yet not seeing
In a shade of blackened features with the strong stench of death

A horrible moment in time with riots in our street
Through protests & the urge to be heard
The real walking dead having viscous fangs that bite with fright
In black gallows leaching through the desolate corridor