Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Take It Upon Yourself

Trees don't have mouths, and
ten seconds is much less than an hour.
The more you take in, the more you lose
(of yourself, in this case, anyway).
One million pieces, not shattered but
torn and squished by malicious fingers.
You can put them back into a pressure-mold
but nothing will ever
Boys become men belatedly,
so maybe you ought to figure it all out
instead of twiddling your thumbs
while you wait.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Still, She Haunts Me

Death sleeps by greenish glow of hazy nights.
A mist lay over finely chiseled stone.
The howling of the dogs at soft moonlight
could never leave my mem'ry on its own.
A simple whisper cut through droning sound;
a tale of lovers torn apart by sea.
The girl who retches, grasping at the ground;
the boy who waves goodbye on his right knee.
I never heard a sound so sad as this.
Wind-whispered stories masked for death's cold kiss.