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No Matter
Shallow breaths of those who sleep bare no witness
of the soul it keeps
Secrets kept of those who weep make no difference
to those that leap
Silencing those who dare to peep have no bearing
on those who creep.
The reason I am here is because of you
You created me
In your image and
I am grateful for that
Yes I live a good life
I have nothing to bitch
About my life
Yes the winter is killing me slowly
I hate to go out in the winter
But I have no choice
Because walking is good for me
I don't like the short days
That we have in the winter
It gets dark at 5:00 PM
Every single day
Good night my God
My particles will return to their origin,
as some theories go.
I am not resigned
to continuation without memory.
So, I'll rely on you
to keep the tiny fragments
from dispersing without care.
lifeless bodies bedecked,
donned and hashtagged
with trappings of battle hymns
strong and brave men and women
gave their level best
crème de la crème
strongest and bravest
leaving grieving significant others
with emotional agony
within treasured chest
o'er the redoubt
the enemy did crest,
where lovely bones
of forebears for everest
battling hostility over
well fought over ass strew turf
among warring factions finessed
"workshop on the hill"
After his years in the guild,
the young crafter chose a rise
just beyond the bend
where the road split
toward the plains on one side
and the high country on the other.
The hill was not grand,
but it held a view
that let him see travellers
long before they arrived,
their figures small against the horizon,
their pace telling him
what kind of work
they might need.
If my face didn’t have a name
If my face didn’t have a name
My childhood be free of pain
If my face didn’t have a name
Could my heart be free of shame
If my face didn’t have a name
Would life see me
Without any chains
Because theirs no truth in the name
It’s only the legacy
That a person gave
Many years ago
You have chosen me
To be your poet
And I am so happy that
I am your poet
All the poems that
I write have different feelings
That comes straight from my heart
Also I don't have to brainstorm
When I am writing
It comes to me automatic
Oh, cabbage and beans, I can't afford rent
I just can't believe how my paycheck was spent
It's not like I'm living so high on the hog
Everyday has become a perpetual slog
Then I look at the pics of the ballroom he's planned
It warms up my cockles and opens my hand
I find it inspiring how they're all getting rich
While I sit here farting from hunger and bitch
And you might think it strange that I can't let it go
But deep down, I'm quite a maga-nificent hoe
So dry up your tears and squeeze out a shout
Exhume the rotting flesh
Of what used to be
My body
Buried in a field
Where there used to a tent
No crypt
It’s cryptic
No grand mausoleum
Couldn’t beat em
Guess I’ve joined ‘em
When I want someone
To hold me
No ones there
I guess it’s fair
The phone rings once,
Twice,
Three times,
Then settles back into the dark,
Left alone and silent.
About to leave the house
To have a night out for dinner,
He grabs his phone,
Sees a missed call
And a voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me.
Sorry to call,
I’m sure you’re busy.
I just wanted to hear your voice…”
A long stretch of silence came
With only the sound of the wind
And a steady breath