Monday, August 24, 2009

To Ruin Such a Work of Art

against whom do you jest?
against whom do you open wide your mouth?
what do you say within yourself?
are they right in your own eyes?
no one sees?
does you guilt keep you up at night?
how do you justify yourself?
do you believe in your own lies?

you sought wealth
but it was never enough
will silver keep you warm at night?
will gold dry your tears?
what good’s a feast eaten alone?
for whom do you labor and deprive yourself of pleasure?
it won’t deliver you when you cry out
but the wind will carry it away

you sought power
at whose expense?
do you see the faces of those you’ve used
those stepped on to reach your throne?
what became of the promises you made?
the lies spoken to earn their trust?
did you ever really care at all?
or where they just pawns in your game?

the self anointed
you say you know best
we must be saved from our simple ways
we do not know what’s best for us
could you be wrong?
do superior intentions override fact?
the road to hell is paved with good intentions
and the abuses of today were the reforms of the past

Sunday, August 23, 2009

To Ruin Such a Work of Art

a silent figure sits alone
as sand sifts through a sieve and falls
the time slips by her pale blue eyes
a dream within a dream she sees
a youthful beauty in her veins
of future’s hopes and dreams to come
but eyes that see beyond her age
a game within a game she sees

of lives and knives stabbed in the back
they grasp and claw and kick and climb
and rarely lift a hand to help
except for their own gain
other’s pain is but a sport
and power is the prize to win
they plot and laugh within themselves
and lift their joy from other’s shame

she wants to live and see the sun
she wants to feel the warmth of love
and tired of all the nights alone
she wants someone to call her name
at night she cannot hide her fears
or stop the tears within her eyes
but doors locked tight and blinds pulled down
will keep her safe ‘till sleep arrives

Saturday, August 15, 2009

To Ruin Such a Work of Art

standing on a hill of leaves and grass
wind blows life in lifeless leaves
across the lawn like children
they scurry from game to game
blown away from dust to dust
a turtleneck sweater cradles her chin
denim legs defy the breeze
planted firm as the world blows past

the rains come and feed the grass
growing high to reach the sun
the warmth awakes the seeds to grow
the light’s brushstrokes paint the flowers
the sun that brings forth life brings forth death
his furnace flames burn the grass
his wrath wilts the flower’s glory
their peddles fall to the ground

her home has become strange
her memories don’t seem to fit
dreams have been rooted from their beds
exposed to the frost and snow
protective walls have been torn down
the wind chills her bones those she trusted betrayed her
she doesn’t recognize her own family

now she’s alone
and independent force of will
no one to lean on or share the weight
no one to love or waste her tears
why care for a world that doesn’t care?
why believe a liar?
why trust a thief?
they lie in wait to steal her soul

Monday, August 10, 2009

To Ruin Such a Work of Art

a girl so delicate and young
in silence her melody’s sung
while shyness holds her gentle tongue
on spider’s threads her words are hung

a gentle hand brushed hair from eyes
a subtle breath of silent sighs
a single girl beneath the skies
above a world that moans and cries

and awkward smile upon her lips
nervously alone she sits
within a world that runs and trips
a silent girl that never fits

i dare not bring before her eyes
the ugly sin that in me lies
my clumsy hands might break her heart
and ruin such a work of art

Sunday, August 9, 2009


In the curve of your chin
The curl of your lip
In the arch of your brow
And in the defiant hair
That refuses to submit to your will
I see a beauty I cannot attain to
Looking down upon my shaky clumsy hands
I see the stains of blood I’ve shed and cannot justify
I see I am but a man
Weak and blind
Made to return to dust
But in your eyes I see hope
I see in the dust and ashes
These dry bones can live
In your tiny hands I see strength

Who am I that thou art mindful
Is it for me so week and sinful

But if it is for me
I will accept this
In the faith that the weak will be strong
The blind will see
And though I die I shall live
And if I live I shall not die
Love will perfect me and cover my sin
And maybe a portion of the love shown me
Will return to you

Silly Cat

My cat is a silly cat; she talks the whole night long.
She tells me all about her day, and all that I've done wrong.
My cat talks to birds and sings them pretty songs,
But when I let her out to play, all the birds are gone.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The Old House

Bottle caps, bottles, and boxes as sleds
Ivey, and stone, and bricks of red
Tulips, and poppies, and daffodils bright
Rain, and snow, and warm sunny light
Trickles of water and swamps of muck
Trinkets, and treasures, and charms of luck
Forts, and trees, and bottomless pits
Dirt, and grass, and gravel, and grit
Plums, and apples, and berries so tart
Clay, and wood, and snow made art
Such words still echo within my heart
Such dreams still flow deep in my heart.