Behind Closed Lids

Behind closed lids
A labyrinth of bygones
And illusory foreshadowings

A haunted landscape

With pathways worn
From weary traversings
Overlapping, twisted and tangled
Like unkempt hair,
roots, wrinkles, veins

They lead into dense forests
Where great trunks of insecurity
Reach high
And conspire a canopy
Impenetrable to illumination
That the thorns and hard branches
Of the undergrowth
Self doubt
May lash and shred and tear
The tender flesh
Of the lost
Blind child

They lead past sparkling meadows of fancy
Frightful sirens
Calls of future fantasy
Mirages
That on approach give way
To the barren wastelands
Of harsh realities
And dreams deferred

They lead over landmarks
Fond and familiar
That yield fresh water laughter
But all too often
Turn to thick pools
Of the rotted milk of regret
Or evaporate
Into a tantalizing, torturous mist
Of impotent antiquities
Incapable of satiating thirst

A landscape populated by
Phalanxes of foot soldiers
Of should have saids
And should have dones
And roving wild packs
Of the vicious beasts
Of what they think of me’s
And beautiful singing birds
Colors vivid, exquisite,
How it could be’s
That flutter and fly so close
Yet out of reach
Ever out of reach

And I pray
And I pray
And I pray

To remember how
To open my eyes

A Simple Job

What of the man in Fallujah
Reared in death
Nourished on hate
Who speaks the language of shrapnel
Incendiaries, metal jackets and serrated blades

Or the teenage girl in Thailand
Who stares at ceilings
Emotionless
And has become accustomed to the pain

The boy in Uganda
Orphaned by genocide
Seeking refuge
From hunger, poverty,
The memory of blood spilling
From the flesh
Of everyone he ever loved,
And the screams

In Burma, the mother
Lungs drowning
Skin blistering
Future positive
Who tears her heart to smile
For the children she knows
She will never see mature

In the states, the violated son
Of a violated race
Violated
Behind bars so constricting
He would rather hang up
Himself
Than fight to take another breath

The 40.3 million with HIV/AIDS

The 852 millions starving

The 1.2 billion living in poverty?

We must deal with our simple problems
And cry our simple tears
Enjoy our frivolous fancies
And our freedoms

Because if we don't
That life
Will not exist on this Earth

Self Evident

Walk sacred
The walk of joy
Laugh loud
Cry raucous wails
And curse hard
From your stomach
Cut deep into your soul
Break yourself
Free
Of the self
That would contain you
Love everyone
Hate anyone
Say yes wholly
Say no and mean it
And fear not
Your humanity

agape

The Source befriends all,
Perhaps that's the true nature
Of reality

friendship

A winged creature
I glide through light blue expanse
Friendship the warm wind

solitude

To a lonely man
The moon is half dark and stars
The night's frozen tears

lovers

Fierce passion spent,
How much was love and which one
Of us did I hate?

A Loose Grip

If if didn't have
A white winged horse
Who with one mighty flap
Could fly from the realms of nightmares
To the land of dreams

And a great venomous serpent
Whose cold black eyes
Induce irrational terror
Like ice water in veins
And shards of glass in the softest of places

And a mutated doppleganger
Of everyone I know
Skewed to suit my selfish expectations

And a thousand
Thousand
Voices
Shouting shades
Of emotion

And a magic swan

And a singing jewel

And the fabric of the night
And day cloth
And an inexhaustible spool of yarn
Spun from the material of myth
And a loom on which to weave them

In my head
Then I'm fairly certain
I would go insane.