Timber

in the forest of laughter a tree cries out

"i am not worthy of your sunlight"

and so this weeping willow of a man readies himself for bed
a shell of the timber that once thundered through the valley of shadow and doubt
laying his lonely head upon the pillow to dream
knowing that one day he must tell the world his secret
he slowly falls asleep to the sounds of his tired heart breaking
like a limb being struck by lightning then crashing to the ground

The Reality of Being Me

it’s a scream inside my head

the wail of a thoughts suicide

a release of invention

through an earthquake of emotion

the spears have been sharpened, painted with my blood
and dipped in the poison of my soul
i will dance with the reaper tonight

an explosion of remorse fills my senses

sending the shrapnel of guilt out in all directions

turned inward the collapse of emotion

creating a new event horizon of rejection

doubt touches me, a brush of panic
as i pierce the intangible madness in the performance of duty

my honor has been buried in the grave of silence

condemned to wander the ages trying to make you proud



In Vacuo

i read words etched in stone-

“i have wronged no man”

my mind navigated the past and set sail for a time when

we were naïve and without fear

you grounded in apathy, i in my realm of dreams and shadows

we wronged the world with our defiance

but who has committed the greater wrong

you for trusting no one, or me for trusting you?

…leave me now to bear this cross

…leave me now to abuse myself

…leave me now to sing in vacuo

…leave me now to mourn our friendship

Glisten

in the grand scheme of this modern desire
we gathered to awake the secret we kept
the locked desire we held
with formal assumptions of new glistening sin
naked we came brazen with
innovations concealed under the
distant tones of incinerated inhibitions

we will never be forgiven for going this far

Everlasting

the everlasting kiss
is just a moment away
and a lifetime from happening
if you don't open your eyes
to the feeling
that i feel when i see you
smiling at me across the
space between the dawn
of our love and the
eternal thought of loving you

Sharing A Dumpster Dive With Sweet Sister Mary

in they wander
from the streets and alleyways
some lost
some devoid of hope
all of them wanting something
even if it's just a voice to hear
they often forget all but their own
unkempt and bewildered
out of touch with
the turning of the world

my heart saddens, just a little
until......

(sound of a car alarm slicing through the night)

"get the fuck off the buick, it's the only thing that's paid for"

no shelter for the homeless

and just where do you think eleanor rigby would be today?

The Mirror And The Circle

if you held a mirror up to a circle
would the circle be reversed?
no
it would still be a circle
because the circle represents something
we all wish we could hide
that's why we hold the mirror
up where our faces should be
to hide the honesty

oh yeah that's right
the honesty
see unlike the vampire
honesty does cast a reflection
a cold steely eyed reflection
and it frightens the hell out of us
you know
it's like that call you get
when you don't want anyone to call
you know you have to answer it
but you don't want to

ring ring
our future and our fate is on the line
fortunately we have been here before
no new ground to cover is there?
oh, but wait there is.........

can't you hear the oompa loompas marching into the bedroom
another lesson for you
doopity dooo

lesson one-
i can't seem to let go
of all these insecurities
and oh look here comes another one

it is within us all
that little person who thinks
we are ugly
fat
too tall
too short
not well endowed
under breasted
and that little shit
will do all he can
to show us how un-pretty
we can be
and the longer you listen
the more and more believable
he becomes
until one day
you think the only one who
thinks you're attractive is
the one who is obligated to

stand up and be a man!

lesson two-
your timid and shy routine is
wearing thinner than an old pair of shoes

now here is another fellow
who hides in the bottom
of our fractured psyche
telling us that our words and thoughts
are of no importance to anyone
we should just be quiet
never say what we mean
and certainly not how we feel
oh no never that
hell no!
keep all those emotions
those thoughts under wraps
until they devour our souls with sadness

speak up we want hear you!

lesson three-
it was never about you, it was never about me
because the me is really we and the you is really us
and i just can't get why we don't understand that
me only wants to be surrounded by all the we that me can get

ah ha!
wasn't that a short lesson?
if you didn't get it here is the recap

in the truest form of reality
we are all standing here
right here
naked
and cold
and alone
wouldn't it be nice
to reach out and know
that we have each other
that we are the only shelter
in this cruel life of petty nonsense

get it-got it-good

lesson four-
clandestine is nothing more than a pornographic way of saying
"the absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence"

this little chap who
lives in the recesses of
our darkness loves
to convince us
that we can't face the obvious
he helps us hold that mirror
up straight and unflinching
he is the coward who hides
behind our defiance
calling himself the adventurer
the intrepid seeker of
new games to play when we are
bored
or lonely
or unsure of our beauty
and without our honesty

hey! stand up and admit who you really are!

lesson five-
the voyeur is the voyeur because the voyeur is too afraid
to stop being the voyeur long enough to enjoy the moment

oh yes-
face pressed against
the window of the moment
eyes wide
gazing in upon the feast
wouldn't you love to touch it?
but no!
the little people inside you all conspire
to keep you just beyond the fringe
always longing for the experience
but unable to overcome the hold of
the negative thoughts being sent to
your senses

jump in........the water is fine!

lesson six-
when does innuendo stop being erotic
and become a pain in the ass? because
we can see your game of mental footsy from over here

unlike the conspirators
who hold the voyeur down
this tricky little bugger
seems to do all the work himself
he's a feisty little sumbitch
who seems to get his way
even though we know he shouldn't
yeah the ends may justify the means
but what a price to pay when
all the scheming is for naught
yeah, you find yourself
with a six pack of memories
and a bruised ego

say what you mean and mean what you say
"if you want it here it is come and get it but you better hurry cause its goin fast"

lesson seven-
in the seventh circle of this other life
the only person who gets left behind
is the one who couldn't grasp the meaning of honesty

yeah, it's all about shattering those mirrors
smash the fuckers!
they are hiding the most important beauty of all
the beauty of the we
the us
the singular purpose for going forward in this god damned shit sandwich eating, unfulfilled, lost and lonely, day to day, dog eat dog, hell on earth existence-
we here in this circle
brought together by forces unknown to us
but
here we are
together
in this circle



my mirror has dropped
so tonight
as i lay awake
fantasizing about the beauty
of our circle
i can only hope you drop your mirror and join me

The Penny Throwers Guild Of America Would Like To Apologize For This Poem

coming down to the wishing well
to ask the little creatures inside
for a new angle
a twist on your boring lifestyle
throw in a nickel, toss in a dime
maybe they'll jump up and give you
some of their precious time

keep on dreaming of that summit
you might reach the bottom someday
those sleeping eyes hide the demons
from your fragile sense of wonder
and make you forget what you
had in mind when you reached
in the bucket of good intentions

need a second opinion?
need a different option?
the little fellow in the
pink and purple suit may have the answers
but he won't tell you
until you dance with him
and let him squeeze your ambitions
just long enough to steal them
take them to the market
make a fortune and leave you stranded
like a fool at the fountain
tossing good money away

The Preferred Instrument Of Angels Is The Autoharp

last night as my eyes closed
after another day of unending
attacks upon the ramparts
of my encircled mental fortress
it came as an unfamiliar touch
a hand without body
the soft warm hand of peace
and my ears filled with the sound
of an instrument from my youth

i woke to find it was just a dream
a simple message to let me know
someday....
someday....
when my battles have been fought and won
i will once again join in
and the quartet will play once more

Between

if only to walk by your side
cross the mountains of time with your hand in mine

if only this brief lie would pass
not widen the distance between your heart and mine

if only we could walk away
be not deceived by our own human greed
palaces of gold and sapphire to greet the dawn
rivers of life flowing in and around

if only tomorrow came
great glory in the new day we created from this nothingness

if only yesterday tossed and forgotten
this love i could hold between your heart and mine

Transcendental Mystication

and when the closer sound fades into memory
the soft embrace of your fragile ghost covers my sorrow
laying me down in fields of newborn dreams

gentle persuasions walk me up to the gates of your palace
falling into the sweet bliss of your cool darkness

this is just a dream
this is just a dream

pull me closer to the edge of your perversion
slipping further into the simple oblivion you offer
waves of color drown out the gray of reality

eternal embrace holds me in your golden chamber
isolated from myself within your cool darkness

The Long Night

on this summer night
driving rain on your rooftop
in the bedroom of this hot house
i lay you down now upon silk sheets
across the room the blouse i tore
sweat glistens on your skin so smooth
warm breath i feel your panting
closer now your passion screams
make you mine forever
you beg me now
pierce your flesh
i taste your blood
forever one with the long night

With Me

the crack of the whip
the crisp sound of the heat coming down
the touch of desires hidden in the shadows of unfulfilled dreams
are you there waiting for me?

smooth leather and soft lace
you're with me now in this hallowed hour
feeling
needing
touching

take this now my love so real
my desire too
bury them down in your soul
deep inside the walls of your sacred sanctuary

hold on
hold on now
yes
move with me now
slow
let the feeling take you
take it all in your own time

the crisp sound of this moment coming down
are you with me?

It Was Just A Chicken Sandwich

seething hatred boils to the surface
stepping into anger's theater
rage invoking
loss of control
spiraling madness
all is nothing evermore
trapped by my emotional vertigo

why, why, oh why
can't i keep this hidden away?

passionate extremist
i
emotional terrorist
i

the sword of words cuts deeper than the knife of depression
and i know i can't keep inflicting these wounds upon her soul

i'm trying
i'm trying
to let it go

i sometimes wonder
if she thinks she has a madman for a father

i did




let it go junior


just let it go

In My Head Elvis Was Singing "You Were Always On My Mind"

she walked a full three feet behind
head down
knowing only where she was going
by following his boot heels

my heart fell

i picked up the phone

Secret In The Steel

Monolithic

monolithic
standing tall and mighty
bruising the heavens
spanning the distance
monolithic
monolithic

i first gazed upon its dark beauty when i was a small child
unaware of its power

years later i searched the dusty roads of the heartland
to find it once more

drawn to it just like so many before me just like
so many before me

monolithic


Iron And Steam

"cold steel"
we have all heard this before
but i have found steel that is warm
alive
pulsing with a force not of this earth

monolithic

a passion courses through it
i can feel it
we all could feel it
every last one of us
frightened teens
lost and alone
searching for something
or
was it searching for us?

iron and steam
iron and steam
it built this country
and made rich men richer
and poor men desperate
iron and steam
and in 1907 it made one man a killer
and this world has never been the same

john tiller was a proud man
in the early days of 1907
and he loved his precious betsy so

sam alton was lean and young
eager to challenge the world
full of passion and fire

iron and steam
the stuff of american dreams
iron and steam

john tiller drove the iron horse
on the indiana southern line
sam alton was his assistant
with desire on his mind

iron and steam
iron and steam
it built this country
and made rich men richer
and poor men desperate
iron and steam
and in 1907 it made one man a killer
and this world has never been the same


Sams' Lament

my name is sam alton
a poor boy from indiana way
i put my time in on the railroad
but, i ain't always gonna live this way

one of these days it won't be too long
gonna get what's comin' to me
some real pretty things i'll be taken
and far off places i'm a gonna see

now i ride with big john tiller
and they say he's one hell of a man
with his pretty little wife betsy
waitin' for him at home
wish i had me a sweet little girl
to cook my supper in the evening
i'd love her all the time

my name is sam alton
a poor boy from indiana way
i put my time in on the railroad
but, i ain't always gonna live this way


Murder

it was sometime late in january
in the year of '07
that poor indiana boy
just couldn't wait another day
he fell in love with john's betsy
and decided he would have her

in his fit of passion
and his desire for a new life
sam alton killed john tiller
and planned to take sweet betsy away

the devil burned in sam's eyes
as he made his deadly move
his face grinned with madness
as took one last look at john tiller
before he sent him on his way

it was 157 feet to the frozen ground below
john tiller never had a chance
no one heard his dying screams
not even sam alton
he just stoked the boiler
and planned his getaway

the steel had claimed two more victims
one committed to the grave
the other would spend his life running
with blood stains on his soul


The Legend

i remember when i was a child
my father told me the story
of sam alton and his dark deed
i thought it was just a folk tale
a "rural legend" if you will
of a haunted bridge in the middle of nowhere

bridge x75-6 is the official name
third largest in the world
but it's the only one that lives

if you have the nerve to cross it
in the dead of the night
when the january winds blow
they say you can see john tiller falling
and screaming all the way

monolithic
when they climbed it
monolithic
when they trembled
monolithic
when they cried

the wind was biting
and the sky was filled
with clouds of white terror
as they opened up
bringing pretty snowflakes
just like the ones that spotted
betsy's funeral dress
as she wept for her beloved john

it was late january in 1952
when three young men wanted to know
the answers
would they get to see john tiller die?
mikey burress, high school quarterback
"slim" jimmy watson and his brother billy joe
two would join john tiller
on the frozen ground below
and one would have the nightmares to haunt him
until he couldn't take it anymore
it was march 19th when billy joe jumped
and met his brother jimmy and now they both
know the answers to what lies on the other side


Sam's Getaway

january was cold and february colder still
and the tears poor betsy cried started to freeze in her heart
she could never love another man the way she loved her john

sam he tried in vain to turn sweet betsy's eye
but all the more he wooed her the more she turned away

"betsy, oh betsy
please won't you come with me
betsy, oh pretty betsy
come with me to stay"

"sam, sam why are you acting this way
i'll never love another 'till my dying day"

"betsy, oh how my heart does yearn
and a promise to your dear departed john i did make
just before he slipped from my hand, he asked me to
take care of you and to be your lovin' man"

it was then sam discerned the horror in betsy's eyes

"sam, you told the sheriff he fell so fast
you never had a chance to save him
sam, oh sam what have you done
you killed my johnny, you killed my only one"

"i couldn't take it any longer betsy
i had to have you for my own
but, now you know my secret
you know what i have done
why couldn't you just love me
oh now what of this day will come"

sam took his knife out and plunged the blade into betsy's heart
she cried out loud for her john and fell down to the floor
as betsy's lifeblood now flowed sam began to panic
what would he do
what would he do
hide the body down in "ice cave" they won't find her 'till the thaw
by then he would be long gone and all would think poor betsy
took herself there to meet her end and join her loving john

sam slipped out of sight
for twenty years he roamed
from indiana to the great northwest
no peace did sam alton find
just nightmares in the night
and memories on his trail
he wandered through the darkened forests
down the gritty city streets
trying to escape 1907 and wash the blood from his hands
it was a summer night in 1930
sam found himself back in indiana
drunk and all alone
when he laid down along the tracks
to try and make sleep come
and sometime in the night
he was startled by an old familiar rumble
and a blinding stream of light
a coal train headed down to the ohio
for another load of dirty black rock
and many men have wondered
if it was john tiller's hand upon the wheel


1962

you can hear them
you might just hear them tonight
the long screams of terror
john tiller
mikey burress
young jimmy watson
no one knows if billy joe screamed
on his way down
you may even hear the scream of sarah perkins
such a tragic way to die

everyone said sarah was the prettiest girl at the prom
it was 1962 and was in love with richie baker
they were the perfect high school pair

after the prom was over in richies car they drove
through the winding gravel roads out into the
dark indiana countryside
richie thought tonight would be "his night"
and make it all the way to home
he parked the car down in the bottoms
below that fateful bridge
and when he thought the time was right
richie made his move

with torn dress and tears in her eyes
sarah ran from the car as fast as she could
along the narrow path up the wooded hill
with richie chasing close behind
saying "i'm sorry sarah, please don't go"

now in the dark night
when the sky is full of clouds
bridge x75-6 don't look all that long
so in her shattered state of mind
sarah began to cross
once on the other side
she could find the road and make her way back home

when she slipped she grabbed the crosstie
sticky and covered in creosote
she screamed for richie
she screamed for her father
she screamed out load to jesus christ
then she screamed no more


Monolithic (reprise)

monolithic

it was the biggest thing
i had seen through my childhoods eye
monolithic
monolithic
markers in the field below
daddy, how did all those people die?

i read all the stories
heard the old men tell their tales
and soon i came to realize
the easy question was how
the unanswered question was why

monolithic


Alive

i could feel it
when i touched it
for the first time
perched atop it
with the smell of
creosote and grime
infiltrating my senses
i could feel it

the steel is alive

just like so many before me
i hiked the slope
i climbed the towers
cheated certain disaster
and explored all that was to be seen
i could feel it and brian could too
this force drawing us in
the secret in the steel
would leave us trembling in the night

the steel is alive


No Reply At All

"this is an ominous presence
as if you were standing before
something not of this earth
there is great evil at work here"

i found this in a book tucked away
in a box of forgotten memories
the words of father jones
a priest who's parish i could not find
who's identity i could not trace
i asked some of the old timers
about father jones and bridge x75-6
and they all would turn to stone
until i met old tom whitley
he knew of father jones, he knew this story well

for five years richie baker
tried to drink away the memory of 1962
on a sticky summer night in terre haute
he was begging for change
when a long lean man stuck out his hand
father jones took him in and dried him out
as richie crawled into sobriety
he told father jones his story

"you've got to face your demons boy"
father jones would say
so, as the leaves began their colored spectacle
father jones and richie took a drive
down the dusty gravel roads
to the valley that it crossed
just one look was all it took for richie
as the tears ran through the valleys
of five years of drunken chaos
that were carved in his face

father jones could feel it

from here the story gets murky
old tom whitley's memory wasn't clear
but he remembered what happened
on the third day of september in 1967
that's the day they arrested richie baker
for murder in the first
they say he pushed father jones off of bridge x75-6
just like sam alton did in 1907

at the trial richie pleaded and claimed
he was innocent
why would he kill the man who saved him
from the bottom of a bottle
but, the people remembered 1962
just as well as richie
and some say they wanted justice
now justice sits in a lonely cell
located at 4490 reformatory road pendleton indiana
claiming to this day his innocence
and still grieving for his sarah

that's all that's know of father jones
richie refuses to see visitors
each time i've written him
the letter comes back unopened with no reply at all


And Brian Could Feel It Too

i could sense it in the way he spoke
fear
the one thing i had never seen brian show
but every time he played it down
"i'm not afraid of anything"

we would drive down to bridge x75-6
and try to unlock its mystery
to see if we could discover what those before had not
we stood over the markers
silence so loud i would almost cry
and sometimes i would see him
eyes darting, looking for something he was
sure he didn't want to see

one night when the stars were
desperately trying to hold on to the night
he told me


"something here wants me here, forever"


Blood On The Tracks

there were others like us
teens with nothing to lose
some found it, or so they thought
lurking in the shadows
not of the mystery, but in the
caverns of their own darkness
they sought after those things hidden from the light

the news reports ran it nightly
and our parents warned us to stay away
two teens were missing
and the circumstances were peculiar
reports of "devil worship" in the quiet
southern indiana hills
markings on road signs
evidence of sacrifice
once again there was "great evil at work"

it was august of 1984 when their mutilated bodies were found
ritualistically carved with remains yet to be found
badly decomposed and buried in a shallow grave
just a few miles up the tracks

searches uncovered the dominions they were
delving into without fear
mindy' diary revealed stories of
rituals and incantations
secret meetings with parties not mentioned
of her love for randy and his obsession with the darkness

mindy's last entry spoke of the night
that would seal their fate
randy had learned of some great force
centered at the base of one of the towers
"tonight randy and i are meeting the others at bridge x75-6
he says it will be a night i will never forget"

for the parents of mindy sharpe and randy kerns
the blow was more than any parent should ever endure
anger took the place of grieving and in a fit violence
mindy's father shot and killed randy's father
for leading his daughter into the devils realm
while awaiting his publicized trial
thomas sharpe took his own life

next month will be eleven years
and those woods and that bridge still
refuse to speak, refuse to tell the world
who spilled teenage blood on the tracks


Forever

there are things in this world
that cannot be explained
mysteries with endless clues
all intended to lead the searcher
in circles

what great force?
which tower?
centered at the base?
each tower has four concrete bases
and the most frightening part of it all
"something wants me here, forever"

even now at a time when
the memories of my youth
are clouded by the sands of time
i have trouble sleeping
when the bitter air
slips into my room
on lonely january nights
sometimes i hear brian speak to me
"forever"

"it's the only thing we haven't done"
"brian, do you know how incredibly dumb that idea is?"
"i'll go alone then"
"and what happens when you drive into a snow bank and freeze to death? and what about if you do make it, you're going to climb up there in a fucking snowstorm?"
"it's been eighty years since john tiller died and no one, not me or you or anyone else has ever really seen his ghost, but for eighty years people have been telling his story. now i know you don't ever hear anything when we go down there, but i do and i can't take it anymore. and i'm not waiting till next year so another snowstorm can keep me from it, how many january's do i have to wait?"
"ok, i'll go with you"

we drove in near silence
the occasional "look out"
or "i think were stuck"
it was 1:37am when we parked the car
up the hillside we climbed
about halfway up i slipped
and slid back to the bottom
we were so cold
they don't run a train across x75-6
on the 23rd of janruary
in memory of big john tiller
so, we crept out to the center and sat down to wait
the wind would push our bodies
as if it wanted us to join the others
we would push back in defiance
and shouted out "fuck you" to the howling wind

john tiller never came
we never heard the screams
only silence broken occasionally
by our presence

then brian looked at me
and spoke the words i'll never forget
"i know the secret aj"
the wind hit us
and this time brian didn't fight it

"forever"


1971-1987

brian!
brian!

the tears froze on my face
as fast as i could cry them

my numb fingers pushed away the snow
stained with the blood of my best friend

i can't describe it
that which was once his body
he fell so close to the edge
crashing into the tower
and tumbling to earth

brian!

my cries were swallowed by the
pure white silence the swirled around us

forever
give him back!
forever
give him back god damn it!

i wanted to die that night
join him on the other side
i almost did
had it not been for old man smith
who still regrets not being there
to stop those boys in '52
old man smith, he farms the bottoms
and sleeps very little in january
always checking, always
always regretting


brian timothy andrews
1971-1987


The Sun Was Shinning In 1990

the camera of life pulls back for the wide shot
revealing to so many those frightful images
lurking around the edges of our sanity

i spent three years in therapy
learning about loss
grief and all those things that are
real
real

there are no "evil entities"
nothing "haunts" that place
it's just a bridge
and my best friend
was lost
i could have never saved him
those voices were his personal demons
eating away at his soul

those days are gone
and so is the frightened teen
who ventured into dark places
looking for secrets to mysteries
that didn't exist

"unfortunate people in unfortunate circumstances"
that's what they told me
and i eventually believed them
just an old bridge

then i met him

i was out looking for work
walking the streets of indianapolis
when i sat down for a bite
a man struck up conversation with me
we talked for hours
he was from near my home town
he told me he hadn't been there in years
"to afraid to go back i guess, afraid i might not like the changes"
i assured him that while some things have changed
too many stayed the same
"that bridge still there?"
"what bridge?"
"there's only one bridge down there that means anything"
"i would think that to the people who use them all bridges mean something"
"but not all bridges are alive"
"i have to go now sir"
"fine, go ahead"
i quickly got up and made my way
bridges are not alive


"by the way, the name's john, john tiller"
i turned around and he was gone



August 3 2004

Dear Mrs. Strong

After ten years I think we have finally gained some ground in your husband's treatment, he is writing. He believes himself to be a poet. We have allowed him the use of a computer and he has become a member of a "poetry community" online. I think we may have hit upon a way to unlock all those things your husband has inside his mind. I strongly encourage you to help him pursue this "writing exercise" as it may lead to your husband's improved mental health and eventual release.


Sincerely
Dr. Erik I. Poland



**************
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Poetic Past

read to me a poem that is true
from the heart and deep with meaning too
read to me a poem that makes me cry
that fills my soul with heavy sigh
read to me a poem that is full of art
a complex verse that tears at my heart
read to me a poem that motivates greatness in me
words that give sight to those who refuse to see

each time i scribble these words out to read
i'm stunned and stupefied at what i see
for all i need to keep me moving along
are the words of purity learned in my youth
those simple rhymes that filled my time
i keep them close to me next to my heart
and hope that the world will someday follow my lead
for all the truth that is sought by those who need
can be found in the lessons taught by two men of rhyme

so, i end this short poem with a thank and a plea
for those who don't get it, i hope they someday see
your poems of deep meaning and doubt
would never have happened if some girl had took the garbage out
and to read this poem you wouldn't have a clue
if a wonderful man hadn't given us a who

Sideshow Nocturne

all the faces close their eyes
and hide under a lifetime of lies
this obsession that draws you in
a cold look at the soul within
sideshow nocturne

ugly people all around us
ugly minds full of disgust
till we look in the mirror and see
all this ugliness is you and me
sideshow nocturne

and a thousand nights alone in the dark
is all we need to make this world a fantasy
so come with me now and see this nightmare unfold
a trip into
sideshow nocturne

the gallery fills with paintings of torture and demise
hidden behind such a thin disguise
but for what, and who, why do we hide
from this person we all have inside
sideshow nocturne

each person is one act away from murder
a time bomb just wanting it all to be over
to be free from this hell
to be released from our shell
sideshow nocturne

and a thousand nights alone in the dark
is all we need to make this world a fantasy
so come with me now and see this nightmare unfold
a trip into
sideshow nocturne

all the faces close their eyes
and hide under a lifetime of lies
simply put we are all him
each one of us death will come
sideshow nocturne

sideshow nocturne
sideshow nocturne
this life is just a freak show

Natacha's Blue Eyes

once i was the master of thunder and lightning
divinity flowed through my veins
i stopped the heavens from moving in the sky
just to prove my love
but as the hand of time grips my soul
tighter as each day goes flashing past
the poison of doubt creeps from around
every corner, from under every stone
reminding me that i spent the balance
of my eternity to win your heart
and i would do it again
just to see the love that lies within your eyes

We Called It Africa

i bought a new copy of Bat Out Of Hell
this one won't get borrowed or lost
digitally remastered cd, crystal clear sound
memories of my youth coming to me now
smoke filled cars and whiskey bottles
searching for something more
in the cool midwestern autumn night

"let the altars shine"

as the music played the miles swept along
until i was somewhere i could remember
we called it africa, and it was filled
with the sounds and colors of teenage revolt
and the heartbeats of dreams frolicking
unaware

"let the altars shine"

i stopped the car, i couldn't go on
the tears flowed like the whiskey
of my misspent youth
houses
shiny cars
cement driveways with basketball ornaments
africa was gone
and so was my youth
slashed and burned for the new dwellers of my
maple leafed midwestern dream
people coming to escape the violence of the city
the crowds and the madness
bringing with them a new teenage dream
of counterfeit rebellion
clean cars and flavored water

"let the altars shine"

and when i though my heart could sink no lower
the sudden weight of adulthood crushed me
sent me racing down the highway
screaming at the broken windows of grown up reality
these words hurt
how could love be so cruel?
how could life be so cruel?
no
more
love
songs
i can't hear these words
they only remind me of things
that should never be

"let the altars shine"

in a dreamlike rage i wept for hours
every new thought more hurtful than the last
(nights)
i knew my weakness got the best of me
(nights)
i slept alone
(nights)
i should have done something more than turn my head

my breathless soul now reached for something long forgotten
a memento i put away for a night of last chances
a checklist of my worldly conquests
and in the shadow of my own mortality
i slipped into a suit i once thought i had outgrown
standing on the edge of this world
one foot trembling to find ground in the next
my conscience pulled me out
and said "i've been waiting for you."

"let the altars
shine"

Pour Parler/To Speak

pour parler
a soft tremble in the night

pour parler
the champagne sparkle of hello

to speak to me my love
from near or far
in common words or innuendo
to speak to me my love
what wondrous sounds
these tired old ears hear

pour parler
with words of truth and grace

pour parler
the smooth chocolate of goodnight

to speak to me my love
yes, i have heard the angels sing

No Joy (Come Now Eaters Of Candy And Dreams)

Flowers For The Dead-

flowers for the dead

yes, that is what i would like

flowers for the dead

bring them in bunches and heaps

flowers for the dead

we need so many

flowers for the dead

would you like yours now or later?

flowers for the dead

stand right here at my side won't you?

look out over this vast horizon of broken promises and shattered dreams

tell me, how does your pain feel?

cast now your so knowing glance into my eyes and look upon the raging face of twisted emotional poverty and tell me...

now how does your pain feel?

come dance with me my fair

dance we me this dance of despair

drift along to the symphony of darkness

sway with me into this painted madness

till the band stops playing

and the fear stops preying

flowers for the dead

yes, that is what we would like

flowers for the dead

they come now, bleeding

flowers for the dead

sick and bloated from over dreaming

flowers for the dead

would you like yours now or later?

Inside This Circus-

flirting with the darkness

ooh your so brave

step inside this circus

let me show you around

hear that crying?

look there's new life coming into this world...i did that

hear that crying?

that's the sound of life slipping away...i commited that act

hear that crying?

a broken heart drowning in tragedy...i drowned that night

hear that crying?

a lonely boy cowers from his father's hand...i was that child

step inside this circus

let me show you around

come on in

we crave fresh blood

new meat to chew

another soul who THINKS they have the answers

another soul who THINKS they know the way

step inside this circus

but first...

how does your pain feel now?

Sailing The Sea Of Sorrow-

all aboard!

we set sail for the sea of sorrow

in a land where there is no tomorrow

only today

today's pain

please, please look at me!

they all cry aloud

sitting in the dark

in your room

alone

we set sail for the sea of sorrow

in a land where there is no tomorrow

only today

today's pain

please, please look at me!

they all cry aloud

sitting in the dark

in your room

alone

oh yes that is you

little tortured soul you are

but where will she sleep tonight

tell me

how does your pain feel?

as you type words of sorrow

telling us how you'll be dead tomorrow

and screaming out for attention

are you hungry for life?

as hungry as they are?

tell me

how does your pain feel?

abuse and torture

you live the life

so much pain

does your body hurt?

hurt like theirs will tonight?

tell me

how does your pain feel now?

tell us of your end

how you plan your demise

slashed and bloody

with no one to hear your cries

crying like these boys will?

tell me

all you children of the american dream

how does your pain feel now?

The Highest Crime-

no joy for the candy eaters

the wasted youth of this world

how does your pain feel?

so different than mine

so heavy the burden that you can't go on

no joy for the candy eaters

the sadness drips from their teeth like so many drops of the blood they can't wait to spill

how does your pain feel?

so different from mine

too heavy this burden of youth

no joy for the candy eaters

those without the weight of a tribe to feed

how does your pain feel?

so different from mine

to carry the burden till the end would be too much

no joy for the candy eaters

the new keepers of darkness and despair

how does your pain feel?

so different from mine 

the cruelty of the burden is wanting you to die

no joy for the candy eaters

to whom pain is singular they own it all

how does your pain feel?

so different from mine

for giving in to the burden is the highest crime

Pissing On Washington's Grave

flee persecution
to become persecutor;
great experiment?

You Cried Aloud

you were frightened/i was aroused

i could feel your muscles tighten/i was aroused

one last push
and you screamed
your body twisting
and writhing
from pain

with one last thrust
my knuckles disappeared
through force
my hand was within

no more
no more
you cried aloud
no more
no more
you cried aloud

i could not stop
i was in a frenzy
you passed out
from the pain

i broke the smelling salts
and subjected you again

i am aroused

Freak Show Enigma

take away the roses of another summer and fill the vase with the seasons of reflection as i am almost warm and you have filled the silence of winter with the whisper of innocence
another sunflower morning has wished its way into this whimsical nonsense while the southbound eagle soars searching for the specter of shadows creeping into this heaven

i have written words for the noise within me and they are the invention of a mystery dreamt in a sleep so sound you woke to find yourself removed from the person you once knew

this is a journey
one step may take a lifetime
two steps will last a second
this is a journey
one step removed from a crucible
two steps inside of love

loving me comes with a ticket to ride the freak show
ride the freak show

a kiss in the mirror will bring you a lifetime of extremes and i can only offer snacks while the in-flight movie pours our life on a technicolor panorama of passions
another wandering sunset has hammered its way into the falling lines of this fusion of words and visions closing the eyes of heaven while you dream a mystery for me

The Secret Thoughts Of An American Male

I

in my mind...
a little man with an even smaller paintbrush is hanging from a cable painting a doorbell
(i can't explain this and i don't expect you to either, just sharing)
in my mind...
my cell phone charger when it's upside down (or would it be right side up?) is a cold uninspiring building with a snakelike entrance that connects to my brain
(still no explanations, just giving you the inside scoop)
in my mind...
a naked soccer team with large cocks plays musical chairs to the song "eat me alive" and it makes me feel oh so very british
(as if i would want an explanation to this one, but i like the song so the thought goes on)
in my mind...
a bald woman is licking my balls while pixies dance on her ass which has been painted red by joe montana
(i've written this one off as some leftover homosexual teen football fantasy, but i could be wrong if i'm not, at least i'm hanging out with joe montana)
in my mind...
i sleep with my eyes open
(i find this truly disturbing)

in real life...
i have painted a doorbell with a tiny paintbrush, painted it a wicked lime green
(the things we do when we're drunk)
in real life...
i work in a cold uninspiring shithole that is hardwired to my soul draining it of my precious essence
(but then again don't we all)
in real life...
it's time for afternoon tea!
(you really think i know why i'm thinking about cocks all dangling around?)
in real life...
i think i just need a blow job
(and i'm still hanging out joe montana, he's the asian guy downstairs)
in real life...
i live with my eyes closed because it's the only way i've ever know
(i find this only slightly cumbersome from time to time) 

II

and maybe that is where i went wrong-you know-taken that right instead of a left @ albuquerque-ala mr. funny bunny
but then i think-who gives a royal fuck?
locomotive breath is playing and i'm damn sure that he's right-"no way to slow down"
so then, we know my fate-casey jones here i fucking come!
seriously.....look at this fucking train wreck (see the scribbling above)
do you have any idea what the hell i'm talking about?
fuck no!
this kids is a mid-life fucking breakdown and to be honest there's a part of me that is hoping it kills me
hell i broke my promise to myself-
"if you're having a heart attack, let it kill you, get it done, don't slosh around in an empty shell like your father did for three years"
of course i didn't know i was having a heart attack until i was in the er-
"mr. strong, your troponin level is dangerously high and that is a sign of a heart attack, by the looks of your levels your body has been in this state for the last 3-4 days. how have you been feeling?"
fuck
i just went there to get rid of the fucking cough i had
god damn cock-suckers deprived me of my destiny!
so here i sit typing out a load of crap trying to wrap my mind around the complexities of pinball wizard and thinking about something i was reading a few days ago
writers must write-it's what they do
writers must write
writers must write
writers must write about their mid-life crisis
i must tell you all about this
cause-you all want to read it-you want to see this car crash
you can't help from looking at this mess of twisted words, this literary dung heap
and a little bit of each of you hopes it kills me too!
you can admit it-it's ok, i'm cool with that
most of you would like me to just shut the fuck up

(i sat in silence for about ten minutes after typing that, wondering if i should shut the fuck up then my ego kicked in)

my ego
my destiny
my nothing
to quote mr. wilson-"i'm a rock in a landslide"
-and so are all of you
that is the part that keeps me going

Me And The Devil Had A Talk Today

the putrid stench of unfulfilled dreams lingers in the air above the notions and invocations these words will softly whisper to me in the orange tinted burst that creeps along the eastern shore of my best intentions

a ransom note scribbled in the blood of tomorrow

searching the trenches of the wars i wage with myself the horseman of my own private apocalypse will ride with an unrestricted justice to caress the void that once held my voice
a pound of desire for the pride i raped yesterday

Construct #52

sickness
rip it from my headlines and post it in the junk mail of tomorrows messages
torture
turn it on for the voyeur to choke with slithering excitement
hunger
feed it to the sour stone souls craving a taste of my enchantment
love
perhaps only a word carved on the vaginal walls of inspiration

perhaps only a word
and what sanity does a word cling to
what science does the conjuring of syllables belong to that can't feel the truth in magic

no
let the vampires of delusion feed on the time lost to chances forgotten
let the stories of grand affairs cast long shadows into pit of expectations

perhaps only a word
perhaps that is the magic

i am sick without you
as time tortures my heart
while my body hungers for your touch

love
perhaps
magic
always

definition
within without
withdrawn from the center
and internally recycled
for another poet
to become lost in the rhythm
captured by the myth
and released with no knowledge
of the fate that has been tasted
or the magic wasted

always
love
perhaps
magic

and so now i close my eyes
looking for a way to cross this distance
see into the iris of your smile
and perhaps define words i've yet to create
one for me and three for you

goodnight

Love And Venom (Serpent Blues)

the dreams of my youth pound like rain upon my modern life
confusion dwells in the hidden guilt of yesterdays sins

no recent shades of tranquility will cloud this wisdom unearned
as i fall upon the realization that i've crossed into informed darkness

the tree of loving i planted in my innocence refuses to grow
i have become non-existent in this land of milk and honey

for this life is unworthy of the grace that flows from the tears
of angels who have nothing left but love to counter

the venom my plantings have borrowed into the ground
love and venom the image and the reflection

me

Eulogy

i was going to tell you my story....
....then the reporters came searching and sniffing for a story to tell turning well worn words into nearly missed intentions
....then the doctors came probing with cold calculated instruments calibrated to exact tolerances surgically removing the color from the pictures i've lost
....then the diggers came rooting and shoveling moving earth and twisting landscapes that had been in my memory
....then the preachers came to proclaim with holy words that the devil was responsible for the diggers, the reporters and the doctors....
so when you have the time stop by, drop a flower or two and wonder if anyone really knew a damn thing about me

Resist (An Un-Love Story)

resist-
more than just a word now

what becomes of us when we fall into the trap?
what becomes of the soul we once owned?

so many words to fall around
too many worlds to explore without cost

what becomes of us?
now

whispers in the night
whisper from the mouth of want
what becomes of us?
now

resist-
more than ever before

on the precipice of forever
what becomes of us

"make love to me"
her words drifted across my body

"i need to feel you"
her words became the gift wrap of a present i didn't need but had to have

"forget the world"
my soul was crying out as my body began to give in

"make love to me"

and into the heart of darkness our worlds plummeted

resist-
what have we become now?

Finding The Way

I

i saw you standing on the precipice of forever
a hollow truth in your eye-
the knowledge that you have given everything
and received only memories
all the love that once shimmered in your soul
you gave away to become a ghost wandering the earth
and you spoke to me in visions of words unsaid
 

"weep not for me, i am but a vagabond, despicable, wicked and full of contempt. weep now for those who unknowingly throw themselves upon the altar only to be burned by the flames of their own making."

as the mists carried you out into the darkness
i looked upon this world of sinners and saints
with a new perception of love and beauty-
the truth in a mans heart cannot be measured or seen
it can only be imagined by the willingness of
all men to accept the inadequacies of the image in the mirror

II

the answer crept along the fringe of my mind for days
silently stalking my good senses, waiting for me to let my guard down
carefully planning an ambush of my resolve
i could feel the tingling presence of my own mortality
something touched my shoulder-
it was your voice once more flowing through the void

"all i possessed in your world, all those conquests of desire- they rip and tear at the meat of my soul. the answer that now stalks you can be your salvation or the key to an eternity of suffering."

my retreat was swift and cowardly, an exercise in fear
fear of knowing that this answer now attacking me
would worm its way around that dark part of my psyche and hold me hostage
i covered my eyes in disbelief and i wept like a child
something touched my mind-
love thyself

Afternoon Nap

open your eyes

checkerboard patterns
on modern covered wagons
rolling on to parts unknown
and the missing words of
distaste and distraction
rumble around on the floor
inciting the inert masses to riot
seeking to overthrow the king
and burn the palace down
but the armies of consistent flavor
will fail in the night
leaving the automatons of numbness
to melt back into the
unfed corners of my mind

never mind-close them

Stolen Soul

brutality invested
regret digested
domination
domination
domination of the stolen soul

come now the harvester-
bringer of imaginations genocide
come now the suited god-
bringer of the dreams drowning tide

remorse conflicted
faith interjected
domination
domination
domination of the stolen soul

unthinking minds of the expendable explode from the orgasm of new found knowledge
forced upon them by the rapists of youth disguised as creators of fantasy
society dies
god weeps for his creation gone so terribly wrong

sanity tested
reality created
domination
domination
domination of the stolen soul

a generation under control
droning mindless living dead
fixated on digitized fantasy
at birth a video card in your head

domination
domination
domination of the stolen soul

Hidden Agenda

your pestilence crawls
from the death covered walls
of this filth you call a life
the larva of doom
push ever further into the
kitchen of your psyche
inviting those around you
to dine on the rotting flesh
that you one day called a dream
the wine of damnation will flow
intoxicating these souls
you have gathered here
in the recesses of depravity
and you will call them guests
just before you declare them friends
all the while preparing to devour their souls

On Becoming the King Stag

when does son become father?
when does son become man?
when will father remember this son is just a man?

i feel your gaze upon me
and i turn away
i am never what you want
me to be

i see you playing
running wild and free
and i fake this indifference
for i long to be you

when does father become son?
when does man become child?
when will son remember his father is just a man?

Kiss

clever words move us
a creeping invitation;
kiss from a serpent?

Soft

a breeze from another world
this sound falls around me now
holds me captive
in it's subtle embrace
a whispered release of emotion
a shower of new dreams
covers me until you say
goodbye

soft is the sound
soft is the color
soft is this notion
soft is the idea
that fills my mind with visions of you

ctrl+alt+delete

amputated feelings bringing
cold corpses to life
are you reading this?

i am not a lunatic
just a writer
or maybe an actor
i've never been able to decide

but you could

twisted knife
slowly kills all but love
are you reading this?

i am not a fool
only a lonely grown up child
still trying to understand
what you seem to know

or think you do

silence
tears
don't forget to delete
yeah, don't forget that

delete

i may never find the words
to fill in the blank spaces
of who i am
but you will always be one word
delete
delete
delete
my memory

La La La

it was morning
and the frost clung to
the blades of grass
wanting to stay-
just a little longer

we fell asleep
together
holding each other
dreaming of staying-
just a little longer

la lalala lalala la la
la lalala lalala la la

come on aboard this ship of dreams
hold me now and don't let go
as we sail into mystery
we only have this short time
to make our dreams come true
to show our hearts what our fantasies see

la lala lala la la lala
la lala lala la la lala

before our eyes open to harsh reality
we must search the realms of possibility
and bring into the world of cruelty
a new plan for our destiny

hurry now the time runs short
knock louder on the door of your heart
show the sorcerers of doubt and fear
this is how unconditional love starts

lala lala la la
lala lala la la

the sunlight breaks the will of the frost
sending it melting away into history

la la la
open your heart to me
la la la
open your heart to me

i love you

Pixie Wings And Gypsy Dreams

sadness comes to me now
creeping like a fog along
a river valley
your flight delayed
brought to the ground
stranding dreams and
dousing fires

beautiful pixie wings
fading into gray
beautiful pixie wings
waiting for another day

though my arms
may not be that of atlas
let me hold you
healing
hoping
helping
just call my name
healing
hoping
helping
though my arms
may not be that of atlas
let me hold you

standing here by the river
as the fog surrounds me
and my heart sinks
the mists stealing my breath
swirling thoughts of
a lost gypsy dream
bring me to my knees

beautiful pixie wings
fading into gray
beautiful pixie wings
waiting for another day

as the haze begins to choke
and tear me from this life
i see the shimmering beauty
of pixie wings
and gypsy dreams
silently moving through the clouds
coming to take me away

beautiful pixie wings
showing me the way
beautiful pixie dreams
in the dawning of another day

Into The Twilight

a color too delicate to ever touch canvas
a sonata so perfect it could only be heard in heaven

it would seem so easy
to bring this poem to life
fill the page with emotion
lines of declared devotion
a simple little ode to you my wife
to tell the world what you mean to me
expressions of this feeling
that is like no other
fill the page with stories
lines of passionate memories
a sonnet to my lifelong lover
all our secrets revealing

life is so short my darling
and when into the twilight
i am slowly fading
i ask you just one thing
hold me
hold me
let me drift out feeling the warmth
and the safety of you arms around me
don't let me close my eyes until
they are gazing into yours
for in your eyes is the only peace
my soul has ever known

it would seem so easy
to bring this poem to life
a simple ode to you my wife
to tell the world what you mean to me
but my love is not that easy
my love is not that simple
with all the words i've ever
put down with pen or keystroke
i have yet to discover
words to uncover
this love i have for you
so look again at the first two lines
and you will know
what i've tried to say all this time
our love is.....

One Waltz, Two Dancers

graceful
like a teardrop
she glides along the
highway of my mind
exploring each horizon
with an endless sense of
determination
she is the sound of invention
in three four time
a waltz through the sleepy
towns that i forgot to describe
and i can't seem to
explain why

graceful
like a pardon
she turns the key
locking forever
this fleeting feeling
and falls back upon
the frozen tundra
her bed has become
the silhouettes of lost passion
dance around her mind
as the harpsichord chimes
three quarter time
playing regret in Dm
the saddest key off all
and she can't seem
to explain why

What If The Movie Is Real

drenched in the music
i perform my act
every line delivered with
the grace of thespians of old
subtle gestures and well timed reactions
as the audience is enthralled

don't let it go
don't let it go

space
line
space
quote
space
line
rhyme

the candle drops to the floor
seeping wax now stains the carpet
and my world begins to burn

single voice now
comes to me
speaking in riddles
hidden in foreign tongues

here in the mists of my fragile memory
a dark figure walks the shoreline
searching for tiny civilizations
crushed by the tidal wave of fear
that swept away so many children
like unfinished ideas they drown
in a sudden flash of ambiguity
in silence they cry

don't let it go
don't let it go

but will the audience stay
for a second act of
lost desire and unforgiving doubt?

space
line
space
hide

sitting at a table
in a tiny restaurant
in a town just like this one
my bowl of soup now becomes a world to explore

sailing the sea of uncontrolled desire
aboard a slow boat to hell
i have forgotten more
than i ever needed to know
and that is enough to know
i can't return to the silent shore
i can never, ever really go home

to walk again the cracked sidewalks of my youth
unsafe merry-go-rounds
and blacktop playgrounds
no, i can't go back there
ever

don't let it go
don't let it go

and if i have forgotten the third act?
will you stay with me, here in the dimly lit room of my
shattered emotional state?

the actor bows
this performance his last
nevermore to appear

i let it go

Angry Words

my wounds too deep for closure
this love you give is criminal
your words rip at my flesh
goodbye to you is clinical
the closing procedure
to my loves dissection

over-such an angry word
over-cutting to the bone
you said it's over

compassion must be to unreal
in black a heart you must conceal
to you pain is the hero
oh, beautiful the sound of no
leading prey into the night
burning decadent light

never-cutting to the bone
never-such an angry word
i never said it's over

i never said it's over
i never said it's over

Where Are You Now?

another lonely page joins the others
keeping company with faded colors
tear stained memories
missing mornings lost in quiet dreams

but where are you now?
where are you now?
it's been so long

voices call from all around
voices without faces
confusing consoling
throwing deep in misery

but where are you now?
where are you now?
it's been so long

the wind it blows the candle goes
i seem to feel you near me
the clock ticks the water runs
could this be the end now

but where are you now?
where are you now?
it's been so long

keeping your distance
keeping me out in the freeze
losing the heart, losing the night
in silence turns to life

but where are you now?
where are you now?
it's been so long

another lonely day joins the others
in this land of dead end dreams
careless whispers remind you
of the promise you made to me

where are you now?

Space

this space is short
but i must fill it
with desired
with duty
with destiny
this space is short
but i must fill it

with my love for you

Streaming Live Video

grand designs on flights of madness tearing out onto a sky of endless torment
bringing me closer to the eve of my destruction

i am the boatman for my own decent

thoughtless features placed upon faces depicting caricatures of my own soul
lost
found
unknown
discovered


sleepless for reasons you could never understand

The Monster

it was the bed
king size
fit for lovers
in love with the
sounds of words unsaid
it held them there
long enough to remember
they were only
indulging the monster
that could never be fed

Terminal

in the eyes of the smallest reflection

pours the soul of a man departed

from this unforgiving landscape of

useless plunder

and yet i wonder

where were you when the divine descended down and bathed the earth in blood?

unaware

unaware

coldly, coldly unaware

for each his own

maker and redeemer

foolish creeping schemer

a little man holding a

book about self-preservation

and sanctified enslavement

hour after hour

the day goes on

and the parade of

undeserving lechers

moves on into the future

leaving behind

a trail of castaways

searching for fields of

lust and honey

fourteen steps to the top of mount idontgivadamn and i'm so fucking tired, all i want to do is take a bath and sleep for 24 hours.

where did that come from?

oh yeah i remember

it's called bible school here in the heartland

i don't know what the rest of the world calls it

send the kids off to church for two weeks in the summer

let them learn about all gods great glory

while the parents earn those dollars

to pay for mortgages, cadillacs and other assorted sins

the last time i went to bible school the only thing i learned

was how to make a pipe bomb

true story

it was the last day and the only thing the youth councilor

did was tell us about the day him and his cousin

blew a hole in the side of his uncles barn

i told you that story to tell you this one

there is only one thing to remember when looking for the answers to the questions that you find scattered along life's endless highway of curves, hills and run on sentences....don't forget to.....................

this concludes our broadcast day


cue national anthem