One of my youngest son's fears, which he recognizes as improbable, but perhaps not unreasonable, is a zombie attack. I know how this sounds, there are a lot of things in the world to worry about, why zombies? If you too worry about what a zombie attack would be like, and what the aftermath could be like, I would recommend World War Z. I recently finished the book and thought it was very good. And, much to my surprise, it made me think about what a comfort most of our lives have become in this country. I know, there is poverty and needs galore in this country, but we have come a long way in the past couple hundred years. I really didn't mean to pontificate about this subject. Look at the website, if it looks good to you, read it.

Tired. Tired and dirty. But it was over. She'd done the unthinkable. As if killing the bastard hadn't been enough of doing the unthinkable. She had been tired of him hounding her thoughts and dreams. She had grown tired of the walking nightmare, of the idiotic fears and fantasies. She'd paid cash for the shovel at an old Army-Navy surplus store and had driven to the graveyard in the dead of night. She'd had a chuckle at that - the dead of night. For all the cuts and wounds she'd given him, she felt like she was the one who was dead walking into that graveyard. And yes, she'd dug him up. Wasn't hard to do. He was wildly unpopular and his grave was well placed for robbing. The coffin was cheap, just like he had been. His rotting corpse was disgusting to see, to smell. It had shocked her that he'd gotten none of the usual treatments from the mortician. Maybe she wasn't the only one to have had some opinions about him. Amazing that a mortician would actually break the law out of spite. She'd decided to send that mortician an anonymous gift. The spade made short work of his skull and chest. And she knew it was over. She was rid of him and the nightmares he'd given. It was over.

Smiling softly to herself, she showered the last of him away. And she was finally happy.

my tears fall useless
on a fallow field
the harvest is past due
and the children are starved
I've worked the ground
ploughed and tilled
hoped and prayed

my tears fall useless
on my barren fields
planted and watered
nothing will grow

my tears fall useless
on my empty field
the farm repossessed
the children fled

my tears fall useless
into my empty hands
calloused and bruised
ring-less and alone

my tears fall useless

How does a boy tell his mother
he doesn't want the gift she gave
How does a father tell his kids
that human love is spoiled
How does a husband tell his wife
how much she is missed
How does a man tell his God
that he thinks He messed up
How does a doctor tell his patients
he doesn't have a cure

How do I say all those things
that need saying
How can I express
What is inexpressible
How can I
How can I

Sitting at home, she thought she was finally safe. It has been too long to worry about, she kept telling herself. Nobody suspects what I have done, and the idiotic zombie never showed. Still. Something nagged at the back of her mind. She'd had a couple date, but couldn't escape the feeling that he would walk through the door. She'd made more than one trip to verify the grave was undisturbed. Like some modern perversion of Shakespeare, she thought she could see a tinge of blood under her nails; she thought she could taste his blood when she was trying to enjoy a meal. Was she cracking-up? She didn't think so, the Zombie crisis not withstanding. She'd not gone back to church, though. She just couldn't bring herself to look in the priest's eyes again. She sank down in her chair and turned up the CD to drown out her thoughts.

Grind my bones to dust
fillet my back
crack open my joints
and pour salt in my skull
not a whit of difference
would it make

For I am a man undone
broken and destroyed
Faithless, formless
without honor or pride
castrated and emasculated
pounded and pushed down
I realize now
what I am

Carrion fodder for the ambitious
hungry and rapacious
no humpty dumpty can I be
there will be no
putting back together again
I am a broken man
In body, mind and spirit

Now leave me be
for those who I am to feed

Death by a thousand cuts
Well, I've had my share
And double that
So where is my due
My reward
My end

You promise one
And give another
You say it is this
When all along
You knew it was that

Death by a thousand cuts
I have been sliced to ribbons
And yet
Here I am
Without the promised
End

looking into the sun
and my eyes are blind
behind the darkness
i truely begin to see
your face and the idea of you
distorted made clear
as fantasy from reality

what i once thought i saw
has been burned clean
a new picture resolves itself
new yet known

sleep now alone
comfortable in your solitude
i can see now who you are
and now i really know

In the arms of the succubi
A man's freewill is as minutia
Many will fall & embrace their charm
Such a man am I; Lost struggles
Having heard, I answered her breathless sigh
I am yours and now lost am I
Too late, she leaves, having bled dry my heart.

Sitting, thinking
kept to myself
sitting, seething
all to myself
sitting, rotting
just myself
pariah, outcast
from all but myself

She stole my crayons
now i color in gray
life shades in colors of one
vibrant no more

She stole my crayons
to color her life bright
her pictures are grand
vibrant til the end

sing to me softly of your love
without uttering a sound
whisper to me in the night
when I've captured your breath
tell me you love me
with every shudder and glance
settle slowly into my arms
and weave your tales of love
just for me
just for tonight

the sweet smell of sunshine
fell down on me
the flowers
petal soft and radiant
the rain passed
electrifying the air
the green lawn blazing
in brilliant comfort

and i lay rotting
six feet down
worm eaten and
maggot hell

who'll cast the spell
and wake me
from the grave
who'll sing a lullaby
to wake the dead
who'll cast their charms
to bring back my life

What do you do
When the fairy tale ends
and you find
you've lost a friend
There is no happily ever after
not...
in the end

Look forward to the year not realized
and see in it the possible
Search back in the year experienced
and find in it the beauty
Look now, at this time
this moment in life
And know that your dreams
though not realized
can still be experienced


I wrote this in my wife's birthday card today

With quiet resignation
he goes about his day
neither a voice to be heard
nor a force to be reckoned with
The sparkle of his children's eyes
add light to the path he's on
A path neither understood
nor direction known
He walks each day
hoping for some signpost
and awaiting the dawn

the flowers fall in red and white
with tears of royal blue
small stone slabs, gleaming white
mark the end
Of giving, of donation, of you
You gave in red
So we might have
All we can dream and hope
under the clear sky so blue

Sing a song to me
By telling me your day
Your voice is like magic
Lifting MY day

I turn right
You call left
I turn left
You call back
I turn back
You ask why'd I do that

I say no
You say don't ask
I say yes
You say why'd you say that

Green is blue
up is sideways
wrong is right
unless it is wrong

I'm so afraid of making you upset
I've turned into a buffoon
You sit, laugh
Shaking your head
thinking what an indecisive clown I am

why do you come here
what do you seek
absolution, forgiveness
a kiss on the cheek

why have i hoped
and for what have i dreamed
a forever bond
to a ghost of a chance

who am i kidding
whose face wears a mask
there is no absolution, hope or kiss
not for me





i've close my eyes one more time
to the vision before
that i dare not see
a horror
and desecration
a misery and spite
how can i remove
my heart
when it's so weak
have i given up on what was mine
have i lost the treasure
this time



the ache in my chest wont go away
no matter how hard i pray
god isn't listening
or he refuses to say
what path i am on
or how to proceed
the ache in my heart
the pressure
pain


can't catch my breath
vision is fading
is this the end
i've been awaiting
that finally is my only hope
that the end comes for me
and leaves you free

you've drilled a hole in my head
and poured in derision
you've reached in my back
and pulled out my spine
you've cut off my legs
leaving nothing upon which to stand
and now
you've rejected me
as a monster not worth your time

You have a portrait of me
hidden in your head
a portrait in which
you purport to see
a true vision of me
Is it perhaps
not a portrait you see
but a mirror instead

They watch me
with dark, hungry eyes
waiting

I stumble
running through the wood
roots rise in contempt
of my wayward path

And still they watch
waiting and hungry
feral

No sign of light
no lamppost or guide
to light my way
to the safety of anywhere

Their eyes draw closer
their breath is hot and thick
on my neck

No time to turn
no time to run
no time to plan
any escape

Their teeth are sharp
shock dulls the pain
they are waiting no more

She couldn't finish the movie. She had had to force herself to sit there, in the dark, for the last 20 minutes. But no longer. It was ridiculous. It was just some idiotic zombie movie. But she couldn't shake the thought, no matter how irrational. What if he came back? What if he was clawing his way up through the earth and out of the grave? Shivering, she left and wandered into the night.

This is the list I meant to make
When I went before the Headmaster
To make my requests known and my needs met

To live and love
To see the simple pleasure in a held hand
To have a memory for people and their dreams
and not for meaningless facts
To be able to rightly judge the importance of a moment
To know how to have and hold

Is it too late to go back now
To unmake and remake my choices
To formulate a new list
and have it meet with approval

Can I begin again
and will I have the chance
Stuck here is the purgatory of the Detention Hall
Waiting for expulsion or maybe something more
A second chance
and a new beginning
Of a life remade

I wish I had a snapshot
for every smile I've seen
from the eye of a newborn babe
to that of a new bride.
Fresh and unspoilt
innocence and joy.
I would make a wall to marvel
of faces, eyes and teeth.
A spectacle of Human happiness
so all can remember.
That moments are fleeting
and joy can be so brief
but it always can be found
in the very next twinkle
of your neighbor's eye.

The fracture lay
bone deep
beneath the sand
cracked and dry

The city seen
on high and fallen
buried deep
within your heart

The tangle of days
bloody and cold
press for release
from the pit

Eleven came
and none retreat
the path was certain
as was defeat

One left standing
toward the end
a lone observer
of my sin

We cast him off
dispatched his bones
buried his home
ended his days

But his eyes haunt
guilt remains
the sins that day
forever mine

What can I do to convince You
of the rightness of my cause
What words can I say
What songs can I sing
What music can I play
and what pictures can I bring

The arguments I make
The logic I present
Seems hollow
and weak

The emotion I give
The heart I present
Seems weak
and hollow

I don't know what to do
To tell you how I am
To give myself to You
To tell you who I am

Tell me, won't You
What would light the spark
To start the fire
To consume our hearts

too soon i see
the coming of
the end of the road
the side brush grows
and the trees canopy
rabbits scurry
and deer abound
the sun is setting
and the sky
streaked
clouds and rain
on the horizon
and they bring
the sweet scent
of renewal

I am the pencil
and you the eraser
what I have created
You have rubbed out

But see I have left
my mark on you
now no matter your effort
I will be with you

Your effort to undo
will only remind you of me

Sleep til the light
of day wakes your eyes
then look out
and see what I've done for you

Your slumber
I will not disturb
Your soft breathing
I won't interrupt
But when you rise
Come here and see
What I've done for you

Your dreams shall be your own
Your heart hidden from me
The places of your mind
I shall not intrude
But when you are ready
Look what I have done for you

I will take your hand
and lead you to the window
I will draw the curtain
and let loose the shutters
I will open the world
Just for you
And you will see
All that I have done for you.

I close my eyes
and I slip away
carried on a whim.
I sleep and dream,
I hope and fail,
I am what I was not.
The dreams were meant
to a reality be
The hopes were dreams
of a future unseen
I am what I did not want to be.

Start again,
but not at the beginning
Start at the end
or the middle of me
Follow the road
twisting and winding
to where I may be
waiting for you

There you will find
stacked and heap
groups and cousins of hope
laying about with cluttered precision
waiting for you
waiting for me

I can make them real
as real as they should
I can hope and pass
and dream and hope
I can be who I should

He made me as
He makes it possible
to survive the lost hopes
and misplaced dreams
to find the path
in the middle of me

smile now and close
your eyes and feel
the soft warm wind
caress you soul
I am He who brought you so much
and asked you to lay
at peace in My Hope
have faith and persistence
walk and cry for help
I will have loved
your whole life through.

That noise
did you hear it?

She laughed

And it was magical

It was music
more complex and beautiful than Mozart
It was light
Brighter than the dawning sun
It was uplifting
Taking me higher than Icarus
It was warm
Like an old down blanket in the dead of winter

It was her laughter
And I treasured the sound

Cold sweat she hadn't expected. Neither the nightmares. This was all pasted her, wasn't it? Hadn't she made her peace and moved on? Why, then, the dreams and nightmares? Why the endless chasing through dark passages, never to escape fevered dreams? Awake now, she looked around. Half expecting someone to be looking at her from the foot of the bed. Alone, but was she as safe as she had assumed. Are ghosts real?

No More Hope...please

The light breaks in
through the chipped blacked glass
a stream or ray
to pierce my heart.

The light,
so desired
is an anathema
to me now.

I have longed
for the daylight
and prayed
for the sun

'Tis easier to live
in a blackened room
devoid of hope
a comfortable gloom

with the coming of hope
it raises my spirits
too soon to be wrecked
when the light fades away

The pain of the dark
is easier to take
without the intruder
light

The dark becomes known
and somehow less frightening
when you don't have the light
to show what you've lost

Hope, so long sought
Brings the anticipation
Of being dashed
Once again.

Set you feet on the path of the Savior
And follow to the torn curtain
Through the pain of the cross
Through the humiliation of the thorns
To the Redeemer
To the Savior
To the Christ

She'd wanted to shy away, but couldn't stop herself from going. The funeral was a small affair, attended poorly. It was so fitting for the "guest of honor." The cold, the sleet, the burial attended by the Parish priest and one old acquaintance. Good for him, he got exactly the tribute he deserved. Still, why did she come? She had forced the last breath out of him in one quick upward thrust of the knife, and now she was freezing while he was put to ground. She shook her head at the idiocy of coming here, of watching. She'd gotten away with it, but for how long?

The vision is violent
and the scene, gut wrenching
The blood and gore
The death and splintered bone

Why does it soothe then
why does it sweep away
a moments worth of anger
and a days worth of pain

I am ashamed that I see it
Guilty for the imagining
But what if it saves me
from the reality of the day

What if it prevents
Anger from overflowing
and pain from blinding
What if it is simply a release

God, help me....

She heard the Rosary Beads clicking in the distance. But that didn't have anything to do with why she'd come here. She'd come for....what, redemption? The candles, the atmosphere and the incense made her feel dizzy. Or maybe it was what had happened. Would the priest see her? Would he comment on her blood soaked hands? She didn't even know if she still believed, but the past comforts suggested a way out of this mess. Murder, she hadn't thought herself capable. Self righteousness and self defense, maybe. What would God say? What would the priest say to the drops of blood pooling at her feet?

I have a smile on my face as I sit and think
The pull of her eyes
Her smile
She is unaware of her effect.

I close my eyes and daydream
What it would be like
to be seen by her
She is unaware

I start to talk and lose my nerve
What a joy
To be known by her
She is

An angel unaware of herself
A blessing without pretense
A joy to behold
A spark of warmth in the cold

She is
my
wish

The music
pulls
I close my eyes and I see
What I cannot believe

A wish to twirl and dance
to let go
and enjoy
To not care what They think

To spin and spin
until I drop
exhausted
with a smile on my face

petals, fragrance, flowers, sun and a cool breeze
why have I misunderstood
the soft things, the transient
more permanent than me

I look and lose sight
the warmth of the sun, a heart, a smile and a stranger
pass me un-noticed
brief solidity

Sorrow, heartbreak, pain and woes
these things I see
My attention wrongly focused
on permanents, transient

I should look and remember
the scent of spring
lasts forever
your good-bye will soon fade




i loved you and still do
but these human heartaches have no place
in the beauty of a fresh unplanned garden
there i want to stay
without you if i must



good-bye love
love of my life
love no more
good-bye

WHATONETHINGCOMESTO MINDWHENISAYTHATIHAVEESTABLISHEDASOLITUDEOVERWHICHIHAVEASSERTEDMYOWNSOVERIENTY?

TELLMEYOUARETHINKINGTHESAMETHINGSASI.

YOUCANNOTSPELLANDTHISISALLNONSENSICAL.

YOUHAVEESSENTIALLYESTABLISHEDSILLINESSOVERWHICHYOUHAVENOCONTROL.

BYENOW...

When I turn toward tomorrow and actually take a long look
I see so many possibilities
I face each as an onslaught, however - a battle mostly to be lost
A great cacophony of wits and half-wits consume my senses
And slowly I add my own voice
I scream out against the possibility, I rail against the opportunity
For each battle possibly won or lost is a forgone conclusion of defeat
I have let it be so...

why was i left when They returned?
why am i still while They are not?
why do i speak when They are silent?
why do i ask when They will not answer?

My name
I have forgotten
My purpose
I have none
My direction
I have lost
My Life

"Soon this will come to pass"
She looked at me
Turned, and covered her head
One last glance
And she walked away

Days passed in confusion
No food found to be edible
No water satisfied my thirst
I stood alone
Looking at where she'd stood
Days passed
And I did not know

She came again, briefly
Looked up
Into my eyes
"It is done"
Gone again

Fear gripped me
Shook out my soul
Wrung my stomach
And I just stood there
Alone
Days passed and I did not know
I did not know

Cold now
She stands over me
No tears
Flowers are left
Shortly before her own departure

The look in her eye grew colder by the instant. I knew I'd made a mistake the moment I'd said it. Her teeth bared and I think I caught a glimpse of fang. I am lost now in her eyes. Cold. Feral.

My blood runs hot in her hands and she smiles.

I think I got what I deserved. But then, do deathbed confessions really mean anything?

SometimeswordfailmeSometimestheyaretooshortSometimestheyarecumbersomeandunpronouncableSometimestheysaythingsjustbythewaytheylookonapageSometimes...

it
would
be
so easy
just to split that vessel
except
i can't stand pain

it would be quick
to push lead through bone
and brain
except
i don't hava gun

a noose is
too slow
poison
a mess
accidents too obvious
death by cop
much too public

some people are meant to live
if only in misery
some are not meant for happiness
and i am
i realize
one of those

She stood away from the facade and sighed. The work was becoming too difficult and the facade of her own life was cracking. She didn't know what to say to him anymore and it wouldn't matter anyway. He was gone.

The sigh turned to a scream as she realized what had happened.

The blood stains may never come out. At least not form her heart. Was she sorry? She didn't think so. She just stood and screamed at her own frustration.

He was gone and damn good riddance. The bastard had ruined her life, her freedom. He deserved every thrust of the knife.

She stopped screaming and walked away, spitting on him for good measure.

I woke up one day
One step at a time
I find myself here
And I don't know where I am

I look around in confusion
At what I have chosen
One step at a time
I made myself, here

One step at a time
How is it possible
That every choice that I made
Brought me here

I thought I knew the direction
I thought I knew what I wanted
I turn up here
Lost and deserted
One Step at a time

pull the trigger
to the gun at my head
i asked you to listen
you said "i'd rather be dead"
blow back, kick back and bits of brain
i fall to the floor
and you
you can be happy again
the light doesn't fade
or slowly seep away
it ends in a flash
now hurry, go play
with your boyfriends, toy friends and booze
the world is your oyster
your freedom is the thing
and you surely will never lose

Nothing, really should be construed to mean anything in particular. This is, after all, a compost heap upon which I dump all the B.S. that drops on the field of my consciousness. Pretentious, overbearing and underwhelming all at once. The meaningless drippings of a mind infested with semantic diarrhea. Make of it what you will - like the artisan in Minnesota making money on goose-poop art - or ignore it and remain somehow richer...

shhhhh. He is coming. I do not know where to turn or what he wants. The light is shot through with darkness. The line is thin and I won't fit through. Am I stuck on this side of love or hate. The end, the promised end, does it draw near or did she lie...? Will I have to go like this? I don't want to forcibly die, but she said it would all be over soon. The tubes run rampant and the feedings are far between.....shhhhhh. They are coming now..........................

the pen, the pen, the pen
dry and the coffee, cold

sky grey i have fallen and prey
ripped, ripped, ripped

the soil, the soil, the soil
dead and the permafrost, red

e coli my angel and decompose
i'm gone, i'm gone, finally i am gone