when you reach the moon
will you then be satisfied
or set your sights
on more distant bodies
–
when does progress
reach its limit
when you reach the moon
will you then be satisfied
or set your sights
on more distant bodies
–
when does progress
reach its limit
a kiss
means nothing
–
sex
even less
–
the warmth
of an embrace
is cold
–
without substance
i placed you in a box
a cherished
memory
bound
in unglazed earthenware
in order that
you
may never leave
me
–
your ashes
line my pyre
–
your dust
floats upon the very air
i breathe
–
your death
becomes my sacrifice
–
as your bones
snap
beneath my weight
i will drag your final moments on
whilst you lie in wait
lingering
in troubled sleep
within stony heart entombment
of chalice purgatory
never to be spread
to the winds
or upon the plains
nor thrust unto the waves
–
you will sit as a bauble
centerpiece and talking point
a monument
to my loss
this old man walked up to me
upon exiting the restroom
at the entrance of a clinic
and asked me if i’d read
the wealth of nations
by adam smith
–
i responded i had not
as he seized the reigns of the conversation
guiding us
on a torrential path
careening
headlong
into the rocks
–
he said that free trade
was the worst sin ever committed
and cursed the chinese
calling them dirty
nasty people
that ate bats
–
he kept at this tangent
obsessively dissecting the dietary habits
of people he’d never met
holding his own
unseemly customs
in the highest regards
–
he seemed to be anchoring
his casual bigotry
upon presumed economic principals
in an attempt to detract
from his biting words
and hateful disposition
towards our neighbors
in the east
–
as another patient entreated upon the premises
he grew more listless
his words quieter
and less frequent
and he backed slowly
towards the automatic door
exiting to the parking lot
–
sometimes
animals
are merely feigning death
tripping through sands
rising
falling
summer heat
shifting mellow trickle
rippling
the pebble plunks
spreading out
in all directions
stream flows on stone
face eroding
jagged
smoothed
sediment
lost in the muck
all the paintings we’ll never paint
all the pictures we’ll never take
all the books we’ll never read
all the movies we’ll never see
all the words we’ll never say
all the songs we’ll never hear
all the places we’ll never go
all the food we’ll never taste
all the friends we’ll never make
all the sex we’ll never have
all the things we’ll never know
all the joy we’ll never feel
all the pain we’ll never heal
all the novels and poems we’ll never write
–
makes everything we do
more sacred
letting her hair down
distant stars fall in mourning
exploding silence
you need to go make money – i must never stop
offered unto the dollar – nameless worker bee
utilitarian cog – in a cruel machine
everything and more’s for sale – nothing excepted
shave the wax from gibbous
–
whittle it down to
a candle
suspended serenely
in celestial splendor
lambent
piece of eight
placed upon the still eye of the world
paying the fare
for the journey across
stellar styx
–
two ships
passing calmly through space
i boarded the bus early that morning
coming off a grave shift
–
a prolonged evening
of stocking racks and
unloading trucks
–
prime of my youth
–
the stop was lonely
during those early hours
and i waited there
alone
quite a long time
–
eventually
the shuttle arrived and
the long shuttered door collapsed upon itself
–
i proceeded to board
–
i passed the driver a glance of acknowledgement
nodding my head
signifying a quiet respect and gratitude
pacing to a seat
about halfway in
–
the bus heaved
exuding its presence
and i turned to face the window
hydraulics and mechanisms whirring
as he followed his route
–
routine stops
rounding the city
sitting
in a hard plastic chair
awaiting my destination
–
we continued on the path
finding a man
in his early to mid thirties
standing
near one of the signs
–
he climbed aboard
and i glanced at him
noting a small beaded cherry of a mole
on his unkempt neck
–
he looked down the aisle
paused for a moment
then made his way towards me
at last taking a seat on the opposite side
–
i could tell something was unusual
his body language
was immediately frantic
scratching and fidgeting
tapping his foot at demon intervals
staccato sidelong glances from me
to the window
to the rear
to the front
–
nervously patting his head and
laughing to himself
–
at some point he struck up a conversation
the contents of which i cannot recall
i do recall
however
the intensity and discomfort of those remaining miles
–
he asked me where i lived
how much longer before i depart
touched me and continued
with that same
unsure laughter
–
his laughter turned
into a crescendo of barking
contorting his face
in a disquieting expression
causing the cherry to burn hotter
as his fair
yet splotchy skin
turned pink
–
the barking ceased
returning to nervous laughter
–
he resumed prodding
then unsheathed a knife
letting the interior lights of the bus
gleam
off its honed blade
–
he brandished it
invisible to the driver
beneath the obstructing barricade
of the preceding seat
–
unsettled
i waited past my stop
making polite conversation
at last
breaking away
exiting three or four stops
down the road
–
he watched me
eyes tracing my steps toward that shuttered door
watched me as i descended those grimy steps
stared at me as i began to traipse down that sidewalk
–
to this day
i still remember looking back
seeing him glancing out that window
til the bus disappeared down the hilly road
–
i took the long way back
to a shared
tattered duplex
trekking streets i’d never seen before
wandering past morning joggers
quiet culdesacs
and chain link fences
with only the memory of
an interesting bus ride
I'm just another dreamer...
The official blog of Lucy Gan
Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say
It is all about words. Your words are enough to shatter someone's heart. Your words are enough to make a broken heart unbroken. Words have the power to change your life perspectives.
Vox clamantis in deserto
Listen to your inner self..it has all the answers..
GETTING CREATIVE- this is my little creative corner in the world where I have my music, my stories sometimes combined with my music (read the story and you’ll find the song), poems (or really, really short stories as I like to call them 😉), audio stories and audio poems (for those of you who prefer to listen), my digital drawings and sometimes I even throw in some quotes or photos for inspiration 😊.
"He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life." ...James Joyce
NO RULES FOR THIS GAME
Work by Rain Alchemist
Poem, poetry, humanitarian, racism
Dawn to Dusk! I try to cover as many as topics I could relate to.
Dating Tips for Everyone
Jewelry that Save Lives
"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.