THE EMPTY PILLOW

Here's a change of pace. Something very depressing for a grey and rainy day. Found this in one of my notebooks. Such melancholy permeating these lines.


Beside the empty pillow
alone asleep I fall
Only to awake each morn'
to longings never stalled
Cobwebs fill the hollow
across the vast devide
Undisturbed yet growing old
and crumbling deep inside

The narrow nights condemn me
accelerates my dread
Youth's ember flicker to a fade
as time lays still ahead
In a rock infested wasteland
In a future dull and bare
I'm on a pathway to perdition
to which my fate adhere

I've seen the perfect picture
it hangs not on my wall
Beyond my grasp it beckons always
testing my resolve
I peer in from a distance
as if touching from afar
Frailty, humbled seeping
from unhealing scars

COURAGE BEYOND ENDURANCE

Sometimes you find yourself in situations beyond your control and it takes much courage and strenght to endure the hardship heaped upon you. When the world is a big scary place, as it is for this young boy, it becomes terrifying. This is the tale of a young boys harrowing night.
I was going to end this pretty straight, but I am afraid I failed and it concludes as ambiguous as many of my other stories.

The headlight beams reflects
off the dank slick country road
Rain rages like a tempest
it is sensory overload
The gas pedal's pushed
all the way to the floor
She should be cautious,
but she doesn't care anymore

Her mind is gazing
at the immediate past
Pictures without purpose
it all flies by so fast
The present explodes
the car starts to skid
Over the curve
off the grid

Picking up speed
down the stone covered hill
Can't halt the bullet
once the trigger's squeezed to kill
The end is certain
clear for all to see
Abrupt and vicious
when you cease to be

An hour goes by, then another two
when a whimper is heard from the car
Little Billy is strapped in the backseat alone
banged up with bruises and scars
Soon darkness hovers
like a fence 'round his fear
He calls out uncertain,
but no one will hear

He longs for his mothers soft embrace
her voice familiar and kind
Yet doubt is a vulture pecking away
at his life's once perfect design
Unable to flee as he's locked to his fate
straining to peer through the night
A towering tree is faintly in view
the source of his miserable plight

Sinister sounds in a pityless realm
harrowing moans from beyond
A careening calamity thrust into his path
a terror he cannot outrun
Simmering madness strives for control
pushing him towards the edge
Staring into the inviting abyss
before turning away from the ledge

The tendrils of moonlight
through the forest it creeps
Glinting bleak rays penetrating the clouds
burrowing deeper than deep
For only an instant a second awakes
to reveal in haunting detail
In the naked glow of an errant beam
eyes look back blind and pale

The blackness is bleached by the clearing skies
revealing a chamber of grue
The body elixir sprayed like a mist
grimy droplets of a burgundy hue
Streaks on the windows, pools on the floor
infecting him with dread
Panic erupts when he spies in the corner
his mothers severed head

Tearing at the belt buckle
ripping his nails to shreds
No time to mourn her
or retrieve the tears he shed
A vice of emotions
holds him in place
Shackled to the reality
he doesn't want to face

The chill slips through
a hole in the night
First a nip and a tug
then a kiss and a bite
There will be no cavalry
no rescue here at dawn
No ticket to Shangri La
your future has been withdrawn

Sleeps seems enticing
remember how to forget
Lose yourself in the fog
of transparent silhouettes
Chose the dream solution
ride oblivions express
Back to the white washed past
away from emptyness

The cougar stops to listen
when the vily snow crow caws
A respite from his hunger
A rest for aching paws
The scent is growing stronger
it permeates the air
At last his needs be sated
his prey seems very near

Cautious he approaches
tempered in pursuit
Weary of the hunters
eagerness to shoot
Through the shattered windshield
like a ghost across the glass
Through the keyhole of temptation
the famished beast shall pass

Billy clings to shadows
beneath it's cloak he hides
Urgent in his fervor
not to join the other side
Quietly he listens
to the churning of the teeth
His mothers desecration
his heart rampant beat

He suffocates a tremble
supress the urge to cry
Flicking off emotion
determined not to die
Forced to be a witness
to watch, but still ignore
The harvest of his innocence
that no one can restore

Time has an agenda
against the wind it crawls
Caught in stagnant motion
momentum has been stalled
Billy's afraid to move
Billy's afraid to breathe
Billy's holding on to
the only life he'll ever need

Suddenly the cougar
detects the scent of man
What an unexpected pleasure
supply exceeds demand
He peeks behind the seat
where a young boy lies
The beast snarls, fangs glisten
Billy grabs a pencil and stabs it in the eye

Agony furls the fury
and the unforgiving pain,
but the sustenance to survival
is to abandon the rage in your veins
The foolish fiend retreats
to mend his scarred pride
He will always rue the battle
with the boy who tanned his hide

Again dawn is reborn
the sleepy sun awakes
Still the nightmare lingers on
too close to forsake
The morning mourns the memories
etchings of despair
Carved into the fabric
of many angst filled years

There is a rickety bridge
between here and sanity
It's a treacherous road
back to humanity
Far beyond endurance
courage claims it's reward
Flee while sorrow slumbers
omit what you've endured

Do not stop running
never turn around
There will be shelter
sanctuary will be found
Up the hill he struggles
as a car is slowing down
He sees a kindly old preacher
with concern on his frown

Billy seeks assurance
from a stranger heaven sent
Take me away he pleeds
on you I will depend
You're safe the preacher says
you're safe here with me
Then he smiles to himself
and puts a hand on Billys knee

IT AIN'T ALWAYS RIGHT

The jury is out
The judge is in his chamber
Dammit, I think they're gonna blame her
She was just splitting hairs with a battle axe
Didn't wanna pay her income tax
She was seein' red
When she struck the Irs man dead
Doused his corpse with gasoline
Lit a match with a jubilant scream
She was a little bit crazy, a little bit mean
Should'a made him disappear and got away clean

This won't take long
unless the jury is hung
and the moon made of cheese
It can't be that tricky
This case ain't that sticky
Just ask the police

What's it gonna be
Lock her up or set her free
String her up in the nearest tree
or gas her in the chair and double the indignity
Norman the forman is ready to declare
If it's curtains, or agony and tears
Forget about fashion stripes it this year
Gettin' in is easy, gettin' out's a bitch I hear

So the verdict was read
and this is what he said
She's not guilty not at all
Against the system she stood tall
What she did was justified
This was not a homicide
The courtroom erupted in cheers
Everybody toasted with champagne and beer

The judge banged his gavel
as decorum unravelled
and the court reporters
were fighting with the coke snorters
Panic began to spread
From the scene the jury fled
The benches they cleared
No one was spared

The poor attorneys
was rolled out on gurneys
away from the battlefield
What they were doing ?
thinking of suing
Just as soon as they'd heal

Ambivalence is how I feel
For now at last I must reveal
Perhaps it's best if she got life
Because this woman is my wife
And one day she may decide
She'd love me more if I died
And if the taxman cometh back
She'd give him too a mighty wack
To sum it up I have to say
I won't be going home today

TRAPPED IN A MIME

This is obviously a play on words. About two people who get together because they are basically outcasts in society. They are drawn to each other due to the common bond of being dealt a blow by forces beyond their control. I suppose this is sort of minimalist writing as the language is pretty straight forward with the emphasis on the story rather than attempting to be overly flowery prose wise.

I cannot talk
I am trapped in a mime
I have to make gestures
all of the time

No one comprehends
what I try to convey
Though it's quite transparent
what I am trying to say

Mom cut out my tongue
when I was only three
Put it in a jar
to keep it mocking me

She said children should
be seen, but never heard
And I never, ever
spoke a single word

People seem to think
I like to entertain
That I should feel much joy
yet I only feel disdain

They point and smile
as if what I do
is somehow important
if they only knew

One afternoon I saw her
watching from afar
Hair like a raven,
on her face a long white scar

Almost like a border
between her opal eyes
The separation of truth
from the shallow lies

She came around to watch me
every solitary day
I became most fond
of her loyal display

From my imagination
adventures I would conjure
Devoting my performance
only to her

The clouds layed heavy
pregnant with rain
Lightning flashing,
but still she came

The sweet wide grin
upon my longing face
No stormy weather
could hope to erase

Our clothes dripping
our bodies cold
I invited her home
I was feeling bold

I knew she had
a story to tell
I would proclaim with certainty
she would tell it well

Her mother tried to drown her
at the tender age of five
Playing possum staying still
was how she survived

A preacher tried to rape her
when she was merely ten
She slit his throat with a switchblade knife
so he'd never be tempted again

Once her father found her
working for a pimp
Tracked him down to a seedy motel
and tore him limb from limb

When she was close to eighteen
mom wants to finish the job
Hired her a hitman
a crackhead named Bob

Stoned to the rafters
wielding a fourty four
Shot himself in the foot
and fell to the floor

He was found in the morning
mostly dead to right
Her father took a baseball bat
and out goes the lights

He was buried in the garden
beneath the apple tree
With all the other bad assassins
he got good company

Her vindictive mother
no longer pose a threat
A discretely severed brake line
another most convenient death

She asked not for forgiveness
nor judgement of her tale
The catharsis of her revelations
expunged the suffocating veil

She saw in me an equal
one that would understand
Sometimes we make choices
because life forces our hands

She wondered about my silence
and shuddered when she knew
The reason why I never speak
why I must do the things I do

One mellow August morning
we closed the curtains to the past
and knitted close together
to forget the memories dark shadows cast

THE THING ABOUT HOLES

I started this one, but like many things I start I never finish. Usually due to lack of inspiration or I don't feel it's going anywhere. Here's a case where I thought in retrospect that it could end where I gave up on it. One note, I am using the European term for a cell phone.


There's a hole in the ground where I'm standing
Oh crap, I must be falling
better be calling
someone on my mobile phone
Isn't anybody home ?
HELLO...Damn, no reception
can't make a connection
As far as I can tell
I'm going straight to hell
I wish I had a parachute

THE BUTCHERS BOY

Here's a tale about a young individual who takes some traumatic events and turns it into something positive. In fact he is quite the entrepreneur. I do love a success story.


Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with a cleaver
Chopped up his mother
Because she wouldn't let him leave her

Kept her head in a box
and the rest in the freezer
If he's feeling peckish
he might even eat her

Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with a knife
When daddy came home from work
he took his unsuspecting life

What a mess he made
Blood in every nook and cranny
But he cleaned it with some bleach
before calling up his granny

Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with his hands
Cooked his sister a gourmet meal
fresh meat in the frying pan

Sweet and tender it falls off the bone
quite an exquisite flavor
Taste like chicken a family recipe
it lingers long enough to savor

Did you hear about the bucthers boy
He bought a greasy spoon
Business is killing
and it's not even noon

He is making his way
through the family tree
But once the blood ties run dry
he'll start on you and me

THE BUTTERFLY COLLECTOR

The butterfly collector
a net clutched in his hand
Is poised and quite determined
to catch all he can

He wants to capture beauty
the colors and intrigue
To walk beyond endurance
impervious to fatigue

When speciments of wonder
enthrall his keen eyed view
Emerge the seasoned hunter
to quietly persue

The wonderous butterfly
so carefree and naive
Unawere of what awaits
the tricks that fate will weave

Something sweet mysterious
flutters past the pine
He's come upon a forest
lucious and devine

Hurriedly he follows
dogged on the trail
Chasing down the glory
a new speciment entail

Day slips into dusk
nipping at the night
Yet he keeps the prize
clearly in his sight

A carnival of treasures
a bounty for the bold
Summon the spirit enduring
persistance reaping gold

Errant leaves sulk in silence
abandoned by the wind
Castaways of courage
crumbling from within

In vibrant splendor
it rests upon a glade
Wings flapping softly
to enticingly persuade

The butterfly collector
circles his prey
With a rush of excitement
when the game is in play

Closer and closer
so light on his toes
Adrenalines nectar
paints sweat on his brow

With imperceptible motion
he lowers his net
Unsuspecting he remains
that a trap has been set

Now beauty resides in
a prison made of glass
Lonely looking out
at the green, green grass

At first a humble trickle
At first only a few
Then the savage skies erupt
winged assassins pour into view

They all descend upon him
a foul and vengeful storm
They gag, choke and control him
a puppet to the swarm

Blind he's rendered helpless
breath close like a noose
It's too late to surrender
It's too late for a truce

His feet no longer touching
the ground once safe and sound
He soars above the treetops
too frightened to look down

As the sunset burns behind him
through the vacant night they fly
Past the mangled moon
with haste across the sky

Curious is the fascination
with life's ebb and flow
How, where, when, why
do we really want to know

A church is cast in shadows
built with blessed stone
It leans against tomorrow
those who come never feel alone

The butterfly solution
Don't turn the other cheek
Do unto others
vengeance is what they seek

The butterfly collector
tumbles from the sky
There's no devine intervention
when it's your time to die

They found him in the morning
the spire trough his head
Pinned as if by a needle
in the display case of the dead