Blindness

The rain falls not so hard when the sun shines
Each droplet blinds me anew
reflecting prisms of light on the way down.
Sitting on the ground, I see the end o f their journey.
The years they've been avoiding since the second
they saw the ground.
But when I look up, my eyes are blinded by water
I'm crying borrowed tears.
That there is no much death in revival
My clothes drag me down into the ether
weighted with lost stories.
The sun bursts forth with renewed vigor
Lost stories stay hidden in the clouds
As my eyes start to accustom to a happy blindness

"Trees For Sale"

Buy some nature
Buy it out of your window
     No don't
     Get it here

The ones in your yard?
     Fake
The ones here?
     Real
     (ignore the plastic)

It's small now
but they grow

Aren't you aware of a tree?

Well I guess not
'Cause you're buying one from me

They Cut All the Daffodils Down

The cut all the daffodils down,
chopped off their heads,
severed their grins....
Only yesterday I passed them on my busy way
while they were waiting
for execution.
     (They grinned back.)
And tomorrow I'll pass their fallen stems
again.

I miss their beaming blossoms.

Broken bodies of newly released prisoners,
heads taken away...
Away
To decorate some table

Jagged stems are my daffodils now
Flowers no more
My life becomes colourless

They cut all my daffodils down

I expect I'm next

Fading Fast

The light at the end of the tunnel is blurred
and fading fast.
Lights illuminate the tunnel as I pass through,
causing me to not notice that
my sunglasses are still over my eyes.
I look to the perceived end
and find that it has been
absorbed into the persistent
brightness of the dark.

There is no end
There is no reprieve
There is no darkness

and we're all scared.

Warm Rain

My frame is chilled through heavy fleece,
Skin prickling against the sun's feeble rays.
But it's bearable, this May chill.
My breath hugs the air
And I see the embrace before my eyes
And you see the same.
A shudder creeps up through my everything
But it's not the whispering wind or
blinding sun or soaking feet.
Pattering droplets remind me it's raining.
but your obstinance keeps the shudders at bay
And even in the approaching cloud
I'll stay right here
So you can keep me warm and dry

Stirring Air

Empty words fill empty cups to the brim.
As I watch, the fizz spills over shining edges,
fading into the tepid air.
Your words, my love, they spill fast,
faster than you could ever pour.

But not fast enough to stop my understanding.

Rosy red cakes tower between us.
I must look through them to see you
     You look at them and don't see me.

I stare at my empty glass and empty plate
and all I can see is lies

     You promised to feed me

I dab my lips with my pristine napkin
and walk away,
leaving you grinning wildly at
poisoned cakes
and stirring air in a glass

No Stars in the Ceiling

My eyes close and the night fully envelopes my frame. The night I held at bay with tired smiles and suppressed giggles finally has won me over, nestled in foreign sheets. I close my eyes and welcome the silent night, my humble repose.
I wish the night was silent.
My thoughts are settling softly, slowly...

A train in the distance, its siren coaxes me to stay aware. The blare jolts my eyes back open ot a dark and unassuming ceiling.

It's not filled with stars.
It's white and empty, shrouded in shadows.

The train's whistle continues on its seemingly unending journey.

A screech of tires calls the attention of my ears to the window.
My eyes follow.

A laugh pierces the quiet.

I squirm to find  a comfortable position to drift to sleep in.
No matter where I thrash too, the sounds follow, hollowing out the quiet, ruining the darkness.

I wake up. My head aches with unrest.
The world has kept me from sleeping.
A constant reminder.

Sleep provides no reprieve.
There is no escape.
There are no stars in the ceiling.