Friday, October 8, 2010

Anxious in the Afternoon

It occurs to me that the days which I wait for
The minutes I pray for
And the moments from which I expect a new world,
born before my very eyes

are often broken,
empty, illusions,
wobbling back on forth on the table before they fall.

They take advantage of my hope and attention
and draw my silly young mind away,
like any simple, perfect distraction, from
real life.

Monday, October 4, 2010


It's a new kind of blind
one with many holes and little to explain
Glasses will not remedy this, 
nor will simple medication.

Antibiotics, painkillers, therapy.

What, I ask you, could I take?
so that I could see fully
the cracks in the steel
of the bars
of the cage
of the dark
of the room

I am trapped.

My life went from a pile of stones
With rounded smooth edges,
like soil, like loam
My life went to the worn out concrete
The moss is attacking,
the cracks obsolete
In the flash of a moment, this could happen to you
You could give it all up,
Oh! what tricks life will do
You won’t see as it taunts
And teases your brain
Until its too late!
And your life, full of cracks,
Is crippled with pain.