Between

Between saying yes or no.

Between the thoughts that corrupt.

the mind likes to interrupt,

the seeds that insecurities sow.

It rains then it snows,

you're cold then warm,

you beat the man but die to the swarm.

then the wind too blows.

Not short but long,

interruptions in the heart,

but you'll get along.

not short but long,

fight hard, do your part,

then the body still dies because its all gone wrong.

The World At Large

Planes up planes down

people on spin round people off touch the ground

seeing lights flashing brights bricks and

mortars exploding sights

see the world touch the planet

die in waiting

pushing forward to the top

no don’t stop

someplace to go someplace no-one know

like little kids dreaming ‘bout where they’ll be

where they’ll go

little birds singing they never dream

at least it don’t show

=

little stones tumbling

on houses and cars and stadiums too

the stones they hit people

like me… and you

get back up fast

get up and run far away

them rocks are comen

the bombs never fade

they’re always booming

below planes

on the ground

someday they’ll stop

but there woulnt be a soul left to be found.

Giants

I will raise my hands up to the mountains, they will fall at my feet.

I will stand before the wind and force it to hush its whispers.

I will walk between the oceans and not be wet for they dare not offend me.

I will speak unto the trees and they will quake before me.

I will be a giant; the world will not be 'nough to contain me.

I will pull continents together and countries apart.

I will find you in your homes, and dwell amongst your very breaths and you will quiet as I near.

I will do all of these things and be feared.

Then, as you close your eyes and open them again, I will disappear.

I will be gone, just as I had come in so I will go out, but none will forget that I was a Giant. That the Titans, we, were Giants.

The Libraries Elevator

I've grown in the habit of not pushing any floor buttons when I enter an elevator. I walk in with another person, or two or three other people, and I choose amongst the floors they choose, which one seems to fit my fancy most that day. And though I will never see those people again, though our paths will likely not once more intersect, I feel as though they are my comrades.

I feel that we are somehow tied together by a long and flexible string we will never feel or deliberately tug upon. And in those small moments, between floors, I find peace. I find that, amongst the elevators hidden fluorescent lights, stainless steel fixtures, soft dings and worn carpet; I am at once in a place that I have no desire to leave.

Then, the highest or lowest floor selected is reached and by my principle I am forced to exit, at once leaving all that person was, is and ever will become to the fates.

Both in the traffic of life, both going different directions to the same place.

Your move.

At the end of things.

It is looking toward a cause greater. It is setting oneself upon a distant stone and seeing the world unhindered.

It is feeling warm despite how cold it may be. It is retiring only when the job is exhausted from effort.

It is attending to man's greater ego even when that ego is not your own. It is feeling light though the flesh is indeed such a burden.

Then it is falling, falling , falling. The world becoming a smaller and smaller porthole in the ship of fate. Looking out from your small room aboard the vessel you see those you loved and those you hated. You see that which was wrong and that which lacked the world.

Then, as your picture of the sun becomes only a faint light, it is smiling. It is security. It is a hand in yours so that one might not have to walk into the transient garden alone. What is it then truly? What fading quality so consumes? What benevolent phantom then enchants? What merciful ailment completely corrupts? What is it?

It is nothing at all.

Ft. Worth's Prettiest Graffiti

Small before the world. Little bits of color mixing and waltzing in crooked lines. Culture lightening and receding, forming a halo around the dancer.

Dancing with the hands, fluttering fingers finding nothing. It makes you wonder: When angels come into the world, do they brighten it or do they just make us realize the depth of its darkness?

Drab dreams along barrels painted black. Posters of songs and songs of Graffiti. Lives spray-painted across a meaningless wall. Is it prettier or is it wrong?

The heart aches with pastels. The hands caked with oils. The hair crisscrossed with acrylics. The veins full of aerosol.

Then, all of a sudden, smile, turn, touch, feel and everything brightens and the world grows warm and the mind returns.... It had been gone so long.

Ft. Worths Prettiest Graffiti stapled to the heart.

Johnny

Johnny doesn’t know, what Johnny doesn’t see, and Johnny doesn’t see anything. Johnny just walks around, in the dang dirty dark, and waits till it takes him.

Johnny use to sing, and everyone liked it, but Johnny don’t sing no more, because Johnny’s gone.

Johnny left on the noon train, when the sun was high, in the dark. He stepped onto the platform and then stepped into the train’s way. Johnny let the train take him, he let the wind blow by him. He felt the rush, when dark changed to dark. When what little light there was went out.

Johnny comes back sometimes, he sits in the corner, between the dark and the light, not knowing which way to go. Johnny! I’m calling your name, for the night be it so cold. Johnny I’m wondering if time will betray us. Johnny, speak to me friend, for truly I am lost.

Then Johnny rained and he rained and he rained, until the hills flooded, deep and wet. Then the floods washed away the people and the trees and the stones and the places, until there was only me and Johnny. Still, though, he would not speak to me.

Johnny, oh Johnny, now that everyone’s gone, wouln’t you stretch out your arms and take me up above the bombs? The explosions fade into the distance, and what’s left of the world kills itself. The lava flows and covers the earth. Oh, Johnny, all is black! Oh Johnny, take me back! Because I am lost, between this world and that.