the silent rope
as the wheel gently turns
you weave despair like a fine thread
you’re a tailor with skills unknown,
and it seems my ego is your thimble
my back is also your pin cushions foam,
I feel i’m treated like a commodity
no real value placed on my loyalty,
photographs on a wall just hide cracks
because no one views them anyway.
as I’m tumbling down this hill
I’m losing weight as I roll,
strange gravity hides in this place
its like a water entrenched orbit,
where the past is obscured by regret
the future by disdain and lust,
trapped in the headlights we stare
all just sherzando or gambled to bust.
a happy song of warmer climes
when all the world was ours,
now we stand in the shoes of fools
too scared to be what we dream’t so hard,
and as my withering veins refuse to die
they pulse a slow and aged beat,
a rhythmic angst of yesteryear
a lone heart that’s earned a reprieve.
the clouds roll in darkened by strange thunder
a fuel leak of foreboding ignites the air,
the fuse burns slow on this food of fables
the choirs will sing of this world we’ve made,
with a nervous smile that fears the worst
wondering who will give in first,
sweaty palms and racing hearts
we underestimate each other before we start.
we don’t share a common ground
our opinions just aren’t the same,
you look at me like I’m a deluded fool
and you’re the owner of all you survey,
I wish I shared your optimism
your world is cloudless and fine,
the sun shines from dawn till dusk
no sun screen needed at any time.
there seems no hope or end to this curse
its an unfathomable depth of my will,
strength I thought I had in storage
is seen through my minds pallid eye,
I set fire to all my bridges
razed them to crackling embers on the floor,
let the ashes join the newly turned soil
and start it all over again and once more.
I used to be a man
thoughts and actions were mine to command,
now I trim the grass and put out the bins,
oh to be dead and cease this foul ignominy,
that length of rope still beckons
its snake eyes and rattle stings my nerves,
tomorrow is sheathed
a new beginning born of displeasure sings.
in our hour of need
we always choose the ones that don’t listen or care,
as we cryptically ask for help and guidance
the blind with eyes open still seem to stare,
and any true champion who’s worth their salt
has made their way along the path of screams and cries,
shedding tears that know one universal truth
the reign is far shorter than the rise.
(2014)
just a poem about day to day life and thoughts that nag you awake at night
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