I am...

I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are;
because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star.
I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far;
for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are.

Stupid world of the Dead

dead dog
dead fish
dead meat
thats all we are

dead mind
dead heart
no soul
thats what i am

dead songs
dead memories
dead hurt
dead world

dead thoughts
dead towns
dead minds
dead pathos

dead fire
dead wood
dead animal a worn mat
dead fruit a plant misses you

dead frog
virus alive
dead monkey
dead me

dead world
dead god
dead us
dead dead.

The Stupid game of dont's

dont touch deep inside
dont touch where it hurts
dont touch and bring it back.
dont touch and let live.

dont touch this
dont let it become part of you
dont touch the wet earth
dont let earth touch you

dont move slow
dont move him
dont think her
dont worry it

dont touch and fly
dont stay and bury
dont move and cry
dont be and become.

dont ever read thoughts
dont let thoughts read through you
dont mind that
that wont mind you.

Stupid Decisions

thinking dreams may come alive.
that was the mistake i made.
i never accepted what life was as it is.
but invented one as my own.

treading softly so no one would hear.
a somniambulent soul who knows no path
world sleeps on as time goes by.
i stand , i watch , and laugh at the irony of life.

shaken, stricken, driven by insanity
rising , falling with no road in sight
the only thing that moves like a broken record in my mind
is the thought of cutting a blade grass with a knife

the brook murmurs, draining life of its color.
painting the color of dark in the tip of me.
covering the vision of the mocking seer, the blue black veil.
still laughing at life's irony am I.

ah still one more problem isnt there?
the vision blurs slowly
slowly
and fades away.
only the distant echo of the riotious jeer echos on and on.

Bon Voyage to me

I am not keen on dying
I watch the ship coming home
there's more fun when you're alone
just when everything got going

The coin can swing either way
not that I really care
I came to make a difference
and I leave without any

Feel, come home tonight
leave on morrow's sail
come home tonight
one last kiss goodbye.

I still wait, anchors aweigh
I hope there is still a reason
But I see none
so this letter says goodbye, goodbye for good.

Heart, I wanted you home
I am to leave at this wind
But home's empty
and no last kiss for me.

So long, this is the last of me
Hope you move on, life awaits
next time be early home
someone needed that last goodbye today.

she is nothing.

the walk back was as similar as the back of her hand that she sees when scrubbing the dishes. nothing new, the same old twists and curves. the sky is pregnant and waits for the water to break.

she is moving.

the journey forward was neither contemplative or anger. it was blank. the sharpening of the blade bade her closer than the squawk of the hen that was destined for it. if only it were that easy then the most painful of decisions would never have to be thought of.

betrayal.

never. for what comes to you has been brought on by you. then why is it still prickly in the gut. why is it still hard to absorb.

faith.

that which you lose as you grow closer and closer to that which you believe in

lust

a poor mind's companion , a rich one's nemesis.

work

evasion and beyond

when most of the path has been traverses, she sees a flattened corpse of a rat. she stops to examine it. looking closer it resembles more a vermin that in life. perhaps that reminds her of something.

she saw a crematorium while reaching the road. men in casual manner resting their legs on the platform whereas the body which was to be there lay still in the ambulance. the whole nonchalance of it does not astonish her, in fact she seems to understand.

once the soul leaves the body is but a reference. reverence ends with life.


she has to cross a strip of land. the two roosters, proud and black, stare down the wall. she wishes to see the raven that greeted her at morning and wring its neck, but then she realizes that she must pretend violence is of no good to anyone. she misses the buffalo and the joy that an expecting sky brings.

she ends her journey, the feet are cracked, blood stains her strappings but the pain is just a welcome relief .

when a tree is of no necessity, it is removed and space is used.
when a water body is of no use, it is filled and reborn a land
when a horse is of no use, it is put to sleep and the vacant stable is called by another home.

she is still a nothing.

Au Pair

Death is one,

Vanity another

Together they go hand in hand,

Death smiles as vanity blushes,

he tried and she was satisfied.

vanity thinks of the flowers to adorn her,

death pats himself on the back

it was easy like the spider and the fly,

when the air rushed forth to her beaten face,

vanity soared to the airs

and death held out his arms open wide.