not of the people

Being not of ‘the People’

I have no say,

I watch from the sidelines

as the Castle crumbles

.

My skin is white

as snow is white and yellow,

Maybe I leaked or

Pissed you off intentionally

.

I do not fly

as flies fly,

I do fly

my flag high tho’

.

In Magnums I believed

years ago,

In nothing I believe

this day forwards

They say alcohol is a depressant,

On the whole though I must confess,

I prefer the highs of selected bottles,

The finest of wines consumed,

Thereafter the likely pounding head,

The slow recovery; yet recovery still,

Until the waking eye once more can bare,

The rising sun; the world around,

To that of a life in drought; my desert storm,

Days for some reason unbeknownst to self,

Flat and pointless appear always,

A landscape changing,

Much as a fading photo ages,

Over time

long ago

I am not asking you to stay / you were never really here in the first place / I am asking you to consider / 8-bit graphics / the people you left behind / sprites and the patterns we saw / across a monochromatic screen / long ago

Red Lines

I see her red lines,

In the mist before me,

I hear her red shoes,

Tap, tap, tapping away,

In the sea of concrete,

I see her sink,

Deeper, and deeper

still

Grace of Beauty

I cover myself in

Christmas wrapping,

My skin a sacred

Hymn,

I kneel before the

Grace of Beauty,

I bow my head

In sin

I grew up among the wood spirits,

In forests of majestic pines and fir,

I climbed the birch that broke my back,

mushrooms stopped the fall from killing

.

I whispered silent prayers in doubt,

to those I knew did not listen,

I ignored their obvious replies,

knowing best; as always

There’s a haunted house

at the edge of a forest,

In my minds eye

I return there always,

Under pressure I fold

beneath stars of old,

Longing for the demons

to relinquish their hold