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

WE MET BRIEFLY ON THE ASTRAL PLANE

This is what happens when you meet someone and you both are dead. Trust me that really complicates matters. Dating is obviously not easy when none of you need to eat. When one is granted a new life, and the other not, man what are one to do. I am sure many has wondered about that and wonder no more for here is the answer.

We met briefly on the astral plane
under combustible clouds and sorrowful rain
Her eyes were blue with a hint of green
her soul were held in high esteem
She was going up I was going down
Oh how I'd love to stick around
Just yesterday I had it all
living large yes living tall
When fate came crashing through my door
a 57 Buick knocked me to the floor
My head lodged in the shattered grille
for all I know it's in there still
So here I am awaiting trial
where indiscretions are kept on file
Records read and scrutinized
They even tabulate your every lie
It's too late to feign regrets
They'll deem you guilty if you sweat
The judge and jury faces grim
I dear say my chances dim
They have reviewed the lives I've led
and determined I should stay dead
There's no redemtion in my heart
me and life should stay apart
Where I am I should remain
forever wait on the astral plane,
but hang on I have a plan
I am in love you understand
The girl I met under troubled skies
just reborn I hear her cries
How sweetly she calls to me
Where she is I need to be
Seeds of subterfuge takes hold
find a child merge my soul
Must be clever not be seen
They'll stop me cold crush my dream
A birth in progress I'll catch a ride
I just brush this soul aside
Take his place and live again
Through the tunnel around the bend
A skip and a jump I'm back in the world
Oh dear me I've been born a girl
Seems in my rush I neglected to see
that my Bobby Brown was Linda Lee
Now I'm off to search and hope like hell
that my chosen bride likes girls as well

GOING OUT OF BUSINESS

What if the planet we live on was sold and someone else tried to run it, would it make a difference ? Here's the answer. I tried to write this as straight forward as possible. Not much in the way of flowery poetry here. I've tried to juxtapose serious issues with irreverence. ( at least I hope that's what I accomplished ) You will notice a shift in style halfway through this poem, not sure how that happened, but I do that sometimes.

I bought the planet earth today
it was going pretty cheap
Broken down and boarded up
ready for the scrap heap
I bought it from a dude named Bob
He had a long white beard
Shook my hand and wished me luck
as he brushed away a tear

He said:
" I thought it was a grand idea
the project I began
It seems that I forgot about
the independency of man
I gave them all a place to roam
a will to call their own
Now the world has been infected
with evil overgrown "

" No one believes in miracles
they've turned their back on me
So I depart, abandon hope
There's nothing left to see "
Then Bob takes pen to paper
and signs the sacred deed
" Now it is your problem son
you deal with their wanton needs "

He stands there for a moment
looks me in the eyes
" One last thing I have to say
Goodbye sweet earth, goodbye

He hops a cloud and blows away
across the skies as bright as day
I send my crew down to inspect
to measure mankinds interlect
Can I save their tarnished souls,
thaw the hearts long since cold
Can redemption still be found
buried under hallowed ground ?

But when I read those grim reports
I know to what I must resort
Since people feast on strife and war
I'll give them what they most adore
Armageddon beyond compare
annihilation everywhere
Set their spirits free at last
Demolition, what a blast

Everything will revert
to when everything was dust and dirt
Don't blame me, it's not my call
The path you chose caused your fall
Now silence sleeps on this earth
We begin anew, a new rebirth
I have great plans I start from scratch
With a man and a woman a perfect match

I won't interfere, hush be still
It's going to work this time I know it will
I gave them a paradise a great view of the sea,
but what is that snake doing in the apple tree ?

KILL ME BEFORE I DIE

This I count as a failed experiment. I was trying to write a poem that doesn't rhyme. Since it's the only one, ever you can tell I did not take to that idea. I thought it would free me up, but instead I felt restricted in what I wanted to say. Not very happy with it, as I don't think I delved deep enough into this subject matter. The title is something I had laying around for ages. Never knew what it meant. Truth be told it's probably my favorite title. One day if finally occured to me what it should be about. It's a struggle between a husband and wife. He is dying of cancer and wants her to kill him to put him out of his misery. She on the other hand refuses because she loves him and wants him around as long as possible. The poem is supposed to be an conversation they have, arguing for different view points. I like the idea, I just think I failed miserably in the execution. Well, you be the judge.

HIM:
Adrift in a sea of pain
afloat in a mist of tears
Ever so slowly I fade away
I am dying my love
Death is taunting me
prolonging the agony
Relish in my suffering
refusing relief
Kill me before I die

HER:
I look at you
with such helpless eyes
I know what you've become
a remnant of what you once were
Such a greyish pale I've never seen
Repelling any glimmer of life,
but what is left
is better than the barren loss of love

HIM:
I am so cold
with winter in my veins
Every drop of me meliting away
Dripping like an icicle
There's fury within me
as I question your choice
If you love me still
cast aside these doubts
and kill me before I die

HER:
How can I grant your wish
and rob me of you
A selfish act I do admit
clinging to the past
When your misery ends
mine will begin
I just want you here a little longer
I just want to hold on to forever for awhile

SORROWS TRAIL

This was written for someone I once knew. Her mother died and I sent her this poem. This could be about anyone though. I hope I have captured the sentiments for someone going through the grief process.

Now I walk alone down sorrows trail
while the humble hue of hollowness prevail
Futility embraced and cast upon my weary soul
one half removed from what once made me whole

I'd much rather sink than swim the rivers of dismay
immersed in thoughts that blur and swiftly drifts away
I caress regrets for words still left behind
withheld within my heart like dust upon my mind

Awake beneath my slumber enduring stagnant sleep
sweet solace eludes me into mourning I weep
A ravaged existence bleak in it's dismal stare
consumed by the persistence of imprisoned tears

Now a refugee of memories all but ripples remain
I'm foreclosing the temples of torment while restoring my desolate plains
Too late for forever, still a brief and cherished past
abandon it I will never, til death it's gleam will last