XY

in a scorched red building
on the thirteenth floor
see the ten candles sliced
watch as they drop down more
out the window a new hill
wasn’t there the day before
(wasn’t there the day before)
after pilots set their gaze
through the blackened night
death-grip on a promise
eyes frozen on site
out the window another pile
tell me now are you still right?
(are you still right?)
charging for the gates
tens of thousands of men
taste of fire and blood
drop to the hills again
all the faces blinded
bit by the dogs that guide them
seeth at the dogs that bind them
throw the flowers to the soil
they’ll never grow
see the luna moths congregate
decimate
affiliate
then burn in the flames
simple ones to tame
belly-up in the lake
no weapon but the knife in his back
belly-up in the river
blue with the cold shiver
slivers of his spine
scattered along the shore
with pieces of his “holy” mind
and the sacred child
it’s all just rust and coal
you can see the cursed depth
of everything that won’t be left
rust and coal
stop beside the road
see the black plumes rise
sever the cloudless skies
and mark the stones with peaceful lies
sending them back
to the arms
of America

Copyright L.M. 2008.  (written May 10th, 2008.).

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The Miracle of Maybe (April 2007)

my knife has sat here all along
I watched it as it performed
magic
simply
and I could have waited
but the fans related
as I was thrown in
a sea of strangers
sadly oblivious
but I caught on and on
and I really did see a peace
they laugh, you laugh
so training began right away
worked on until sleek
smooth as ice
and forgiven I sat silent
still waiting
reminded of killers
and sounds of childhood
until finally
I was wrong
I might have mattered

       

       

Copyright L.M. 2007.