Sonnettics

The dust lays thick upon this sterile moon
A million miles away from life and more
Debris of rocks meticulously strewn
Like flotsam on a long-forgotten shore
It’s lonely here, as if that need be said
And cold, although my flesh is burned away
There is no pain, of course there’s none, I’m dead
And now that’s said there’s little else to say
Except to leave one proverb for the wise
Or fools like me who speak devoid of thought
Or gods ambivalent to my demise
Or to the one I love, with whom I fought
A seed, a tear, a bit of fertile ground
There’s nothing more worthwhile, more profound

This one is like a pile of orange cloud
Obscured by dull apartments on the hill
It’s like the bluest sky that god allowed
Constrained within the confines of his will
It drags its feet across the perfect grass
Where just before the summer children played
It comes to stay but never comes to pass
This is the one of which I am afraid
I only want to hold my wife and son
Who seem too far away from me tonight
It isn’t done, my god! It isn’t done
It isn’t fair, my god! It isn’t right
This one consumes my solitary rage
And makes me feel a thousand times my age

The shades are turned so shadows dust their back
They drift and sway like dancers on a rail
One lamp is on; it’s trimmed in gold and black
It’s dim, as if its just about to fail
The room is cold; the night is hot outside
The air is drawn so tight it starts to hum
The pitch is higher than I can abide
My ears adjust by slowly going numb
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath in
And doing so I pull the air too tight
It tears within my chest as it grows thin
And dissipates the way a vision might
As I exhale I don’t repair the void
But nobody will know what I’ve destroyed

I have no hope in life; I am complete
The last thing I remember was the climb
The fall has been a twenty-year defeat
As slow as twenty years of marking time
I’m still intact, and isn’t that complete?
At rest if not at peace (aren’t they the same?)
Each night I stare profoundly at my feet
And try to give myself another name
The god of useless power hears my prayer
And turns my words into a heap of shit
Then turns complacency into despair
Completely for the joy of doing it
And all I want to do is go to sleep
To search my dreams for something real to keep

It’s not a crime to hold a gun and squeeze
The trigger with one finger of your hand
To put your flesh to metal as you please
The levers and the springs at your command
It’s not a crime to feel a wave of peace
Because you’re in control of this machine
To take a breath then slowly to release
To feel the hammer dropping smooth and clean
There is no way to stop the causal chain
The strike breeds an explosion–sound and heat
The bullet’s path determined will remain
As fixed and true as love, if not as sweet
And if the gun was pointed at a heart
The crime was done before the bullet’s part

My life will not be meaningful unless
I bite my tongue and taste the words I bleed
Then hold behind my lips the clotted mess
Until the urge to spit becomes a need
Until I gag upon poetic gore
As life begins to trickle down my throat
Until my straining lips will hold no more
My eyes begin to bulge, my face to bloat
Then opening some book that mocks my pain
Upon some hallowed page expectorate
Obscure the words revered I feel are vain
For all the souls they don’t illuminate
And even if by chance I bleed to death
I will have spat some meaning with one breath

The lights are calm, diffused through ancient glass
The field they mark complains beneath the din
The roaring rush of those who only pass
Without the belly of the beast within
The surge, the bounce, the rattle and the lift
And spread below the world of sorrow lies
A prayer to thank the gods who gave this gift
To tear like thunder through the tranquil skies
What comes to mind is neither trust nor hope
But only destination and reprieve
There is no way for casual minds to grope
With laws they only think they might believe
Then for a time reality is gone
And only leaves the air to ride upon

Tonight we talked before he fell asleep
His eager eyes fought long against the close
We talked about our day; our talk was deep
The deepest thoughts a seven year old knows
We reminisced about our little walk
Along the path beside the old canal
The turtles that we saw enriched our talk
“Will we see more next time?” “I think we shall.”
And then he asked if I would sing a song
I said I would and saw he was content
The final verse he asked to sing along
His voice with mine was love’s best complement
We kissed and said “I love you,” man to son
And only then were both days truly done

Upon the shores of time there lies one day
One grain of sand upon an endless beach
I’ve heard it called by name the sixth of May
Two thousand years and five within its reach
Upon that day the waves of life rolled in
To lift that day upon some higher ground
And there a new foundation to begin
Upon which an eternity was found
And I can wander all along this shore
These sands that stretch into eternity
And hear the rolling waves of life that roar
And feel the vastness all surrounding me
But oh, I know exactly where it lies
That day is still reflected in your eyes

Beside the lake I felt the spinning sun
Exploding from a billion miles away
She touched my skin as I commenced my run
A circle in the middle of my day
Insistent warmth progressed to fervent heat
I took my orbit twice and then once more
My will propelled my legs, propelled my feet
While sweat like blood was drawn from every pore
I cursed the sun in silence and aloud
Fatigued, I stopped and drank a bottled drink
I saw the shadow of a passing cloud
And thought the thought that all blasphemers think
That somehow my desire resides above
The source of life and light, the source of love