Thursday, August 27, 2009

IN LIQUID FORM CREATING

The house creaks with age

Shutters closed

The paint chips away

When the wind

She blows so hard

Against the night

He stays inside

Just on the other side

Of the wall

Waiting

Until it is safe

To come outside again

 

This old tree once so grand

Now crooked and leaning

Leaves are a memory

And the monstrous roots

Of a giant, so long ago

Lay to rest upon

This dry scorched

Cracking desert lake bed

 

The knife so dull

Sharpening against leather

Back and forth

So monotonous, so skilled

Making hot sharp edges again

Perfecting the blade

To slice so true

To slice into you

The blade heals so well


If you just press it the right way

Letting the blood seep so fine

Mechanically divine

The power of humans

In liquid form

Creating the healing

Stealing the life away

So much to do in a day

 

Peeking out the house

Tip toeing through the blinds

Blinded by mid days heat

Biting down

The wood on my teeth wreak

Of your clothes

Something from the days passed

 

Knowing I have to leave the house again

To walk those roads outside

Watching, waiting, preparing

For anything that this crazy world

Just might throw my way

Pacing the line

Waiting for the right time

To jump back out

And get back on the road

Alone again

 

Never escaping my own head

Every day is a lonely bed

Been waiting for years

Maybe this time there is no going back

Maybe this time I won’t come back

To this old house

Rugged and torn

Beat down and worn

The shelter from this desert heat

Maybe this could be my last

Retreat

 

Maybe I should just keep moving

Maybe somewhere down the road

Alone out there in the world

Something

Someone

Is waiting for me

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