When The Gray Birds Fly

pg-10-winter-pa_80102bNaNoWriMo #6

The day was gray and filled with clouds.

Birds flew against the white sky like silver flecks in a snow globe.

They say flocking birds fly taking souls to heaven.

The birds told me I was not in time.

I glanced at the flocking birds as numbness encapsulated my soul.

Disbelief crept into my thoughts as time was not on my side.

The birds flew higher with your soul as the silent ambulance flashed by.

Just days before our eyes met for the final time.

I knew it would not be long as gray had infiltrated you from the inside.

Gray clutched my heart and squeezed.

I knew you only had a little time.

You lay there warm and I stoked your hair, your face, your  hand.

I felt good as your suffering was gone.

I felt good as you were at peace in so many ways.

Gray silence was left in your wake.

Silence and the need for me to be strong.

The gray birds spirited away but you came back in a gossamer veil.

Like Lazarus you were transformed.  A new body, a new smile, eternal life.

You, the You, you could not be in life.

The better you, the happy you, that you could only be in death.

I was so happy to see you and know that things are better on the other side.

Cha-click-bang. Cha-click-bang.  Such an odd sound to awaken to,

It was you with one last message for me

Cha-click-bang. Cha-click-bang.  You demanded I get up out of a deep sleep.

Cha-click-bang. Cha-click-bang! I obeyed and went straight to your room.

As I walked that demanding whisper faded as alertness moved in.

Words you never told me, I heard for the first time whispered softly beneath the words of a song.

“I will always love you.”

I knew it was you talking to me for the last time.

It’s been six years since the gray birds flew.

Six years since that last whisper from you.

It will be a long time till we meet again.

That day will be gray and filled with clouds.

It will be a day when the flocking birds fly; fly my soul right up to heaven.

Until that day Dad…goodbye.

The Deepness of the Sea

fangtooth-fish-78210The Deepness of the Sea cannot be measured.

It holds secrets forever, lost in the watery abyss.

Lean over the edge and whisper it in.

Forever it will be sailing downward, downward to inky blackness.

Blackness where the white things are.  Albinoed and spiked and many teethed.

Blackness where the monsters are. Blackness where man cannot reach.

Lean over and whisper it in and feel the release.  The release of the sea.

Water and brine and chutes of steam and caverns.

Whisper it in and feel the release.

Feel the release of the deepness of the sea.
NaPoWriMo #3 #napowrimo

Silver Tongue Truths

silver tongued devilNaPoWriMo #2 #napowrimo

Like leaves from a pale, albino tree, silver tongued truths come easy.

One here, one there and soon the ground is covered with pretty glittery things.

Born out of fear and, at times, the deed not to hurt, they cover the landscape.

Step around boys and girls, step around.

Step in and they will damage the shoes, hurt the soul, mar the eyes.

Step in and they wound the heart, maggot the trust and rape credibility.

Silver tongued truths are not real. The ugly, sobering reality is true.

I hate your dress.  You look road hard and put up wet.

What swill is this you are serving me?

I love you…but only for your money, your body, your connections.

Your hair is a scary rats nest today.

Truth is real but so not nice.

We want nice.  We want to be liked.

So…Step around boys and girls, step around!

Pick from the eternal tree of lies and live.

Live the lie.

Lie.

Slowly, silently, now the moon

Full_Moon_____Midnight_Forest_by_GothrixNaPoWriMo Poem: Day 1

Slowly, silently, now the moon

Shines upon us, bright as the noon.

Waxing and waning with a pull on the mind

The makes us and breaks us with a mental decline.

Lunacy they say is hidden in that glow

That starts so far away, so soft and lo–

With each quarter, each half and each full

The sea is renewed, sands stirred by its’ pull.

Night comes alive, the dark things come in its’ wake.

The people of the underbelly, emerge with a shake.

Off come the barriers with the cry of the loon.

Slowly, silently, now the moon.

The Wind Down

It has been a day. Tiring. Boring. Exhausting.
Familiar ailments increased my malaise.
Good intentions went unfulfilled.
They will wait for another day.

Jangled and jargled is my only nerve.
I need the sea and the call of the timeless waves.
I need to breathe deep the salt of the sea and dive.
Dive into the salty depths of the hypnotic drone of crashing.

It has been a day. Tiring. Boring. Exhausting.
Only a poor substitute do I have.
It will do…given my clipped wings.

Swirling, deep caramel aromas fill the air.
Down the roan liquid goes, warm and sweet.
Wait.
Wait.
There it is.
An easing, a dulling, a blurred edge.

Tomorrow is a new day with a new nerve.
Tomorrow is a new day with new intentions.
Tomorrow.

Now finally, I feel the call of sleep.
I listen to my waves of the sea,
artificially infused into the air by my ipod.

It will do.
I need the sea.
I brought it to me.

I lay visualizing the roaring water,
foaming and glinting from the sun.
It has been a day.
Tiring. Boring. Exhausting.
Hope for a new tomorrow has begun.