Make You See

You hate the mirror
That breaks, so easily.
If you let me,
I can make you see
All the similarities
Between you and your mirror.

But, as soon as my breath
Leaves my lips – cracks
Start to spread in your glass eye
And I quiet down,
And I promise
I won’t make a sound.

You, Orion.

Orion, Orion, Orion.
You’re three in a row,
And a hard one to let go.
I still see the sea in my dreams,
And the crashing waves on the shore.

I, he, she, we
Left him in the ground.
We flew, and showed him
We could fly too,
To the heavens high above,
To the eternal sun,
Where I would meet you.

With you,
I challenged eternity
With my mortality –
My limited time.

I left you in the sky,
And learned how to fly
By myself.
With my self.

The Con in Conviction

Dear George,

I see you on your final walk,
With your bag in hand –
A bible as a booster seat.

Oh, it makes you sit high enough for heaven
And your tears carry the current
Across your face and you
Will burn – your heart
Gives out and you are gone
From this earth.

Now I look at you –
Or what’s left of you.
A charred child,
With a bible as a booster seat.

Aesthetic of the Pragmatic

Oh, the encouragement of pragmatism
And a forceful realism –
So tiring it makes me dream
Of purple skies, and a sun
That travels from North to South.

The pessimists rejoice
At another day just like any other.
A juxtaposed optimism resides
That ultimately turns itself inside out
And is expunged
Like yesterevening’s regret.

Chaos and Mirrors

The man in the moon
Mirrors and reflections
Subsequent light refractions
In a glass eye

Where I look upon a sky
Of fire and the hurricane
In which I find myself in the eye
Of the storm that blows
Around me with a wind
That flows and shows its force
In my mind and oh
It twists and turns relentlessly
The currents of thought
The streams of consciousness

The waters of life
Are pulled and they form the tide
That washes over me
And they are created
By the man in the moon

Past, Present, Torture

Shadows and echoes
Remain from a past
I thought I had lost.

Tears on my cheeks
Flow, as the blood that runs
From the tears on my skin –
Caused by a hand that held too tight,
And a senseless lack of sight.

The you I once knew,
Was still the one I loved –
An inspiration, the one
I could turn to
When it was only us two.

But I flew too close to the sun,
With you –
And time and time again
I burned in a sea
Where I couldn’t see
The real you on the inside,
Hiding in plain sight.

How I now might
Try to explain why
I can not look at you the same
As then, as maybe then
You will understand my pain.

You have a head like mine
But your eyes only look ahead.
You grew up too fast, as I did,
And now you forget the past, as I did.

Please learn from our history.
See me, and my misery
When you force yourself into me
Again and make me remember
What I tried to forget.

Subconscious Conscience

The mistress of my dreams
Appears once in a blue moon
To turn me so blue for a morning.

I know she is not my lover,
And yet my dreams force me to love her.
My brain’s fabrication –
The most sinful sensation.

She leaves in her wake
A judgement that aspires
To be like the Cross
That used to haunt me
In my dreams.

I wake once more,
And her face is replaced
With shame, and guilt.

I have been framed
Like a painting
And hanged
On the wall,
For all to see –
For the crimes I have committed
With the mistress of my dreams.