left, right, left
a thousand steps are left
and once the thousand steps are up
heaven is sure to follow

up on the trees I searched
knocking birds off their perch
but though I sought long and wide
up here heaven did not reside

I looked in my lover’s eyes
probed intently between her thighs
but save for a few moments of pleasure
heaven was farther still, than I could measure 

and so I’ll keep marching on
till the days and nights are gone
for sure as the week’s days are seven
I am certain to find my heaven 

left, right, left
a thousand steps are left
but once the thousand steps are up
a thousand more will follow
 

I Love Words

i love watching words wind
bobbing and weaving through the center of my mind
i love releasing a metaphor from its cage
watching as it dances for joy across the page
i love aligning asinine alliterations not dissimilar to this one
because it just seems like pretty good, honest, fun
i love silly rhyming words and words that don’t seem to fit
love trying to figure them out till my head seems to split
i love words that roll off the tongue and words that catch the eye
words like onomatopoeia and words like ‘by the bye’
i love words that sound sing-songy,
and even made up words like thingy or songy
i love words that make you stop and think
words that to the very depths of your soul do sink
but the words i love the most
are the three little ones that are said up close
by long lost lovers in the dark
and a happy mother and son in the park
you know them well, i know it’s true
so i don’t need to say it’s i love you

the fragments of a dying song
plays over and over in my head
remnants of a future forgotten
by the present it was meant to wed

though i try to hold on to it
to grasp the essence of the words
the last crumbs of chords blow away
to become fodder for the birds

and so my song is gone
lost to a lack of will
and though i might move on
this truth will haunt me still

if i sounded profound
and talked about the world
like it was more than just round
would i be more than just a man
or a man that was just more? 

if i thought in foreign tongues
and could read dreams
in the form of subtle songs
would i be seen as a god
or a god that was just seen? 

if i could take all your love
nurture it
and give it the wings of a dove
would i become your savior
or the one that was just saved? 

a love filled with easy smiles
and carefree laughter
was cut short - there was no
happy ever after

our voices rose steadily
like waves of the Black Sea
a crescendo of verbal explosion
that to my very core, shook me

i lost something that day
in the chaos of the blast
i could have sworn it was wedged
between my future and my past

but as i sifted through the rubble
i knew it was all in vain
for no matter how much i searched
i would never find myself again

Life

Looking down at the pale, lifeless form below, he thought of how fleeting and meaningless life was. It was just a tireless loop of birth and death, a collection of mental as well as tangible pictures of moments that, though cherished, were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. At the end of the day all people really did was eat, poop and die, hoping that someone they left behind would mourn their passing.

As he gave his body one last look before he went to wherever it is lost souls go, one stray thought lingered, gnawing at the empty space where his brain was supposed to be.

no one will mourn me.

He turned the thought over and over in his hollow head, going through the different permutations of meaning that single phrase could have. In the end he settled on a simple, earth shattering conclusion. He had failed in the one task all humans were seemingly given as rent for existing - to have someone who would love them enough to mourn them. And he was, in a strange way, alright with that.