“The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is holy the hearers are holy the ecstacy is holy!”
Allen Ginsberg

Monday, December 28, 2009

Demons



I enter now

into a deep solitude

forsaken & needed

isolated by demons

addiction to pirated relief

a dependency on fabrications

devoted to chaos


illusionary smile

forged ecstasy

silenced by

odious failure

the inability to suffice

and exceed

in no one to confide or

relieve the oppressive dark burden


a pending adventure

luxury of the journey

easier to venture, conquer, and pillage

than be an abandoned spirit

left with deafening demons


I want to listen to

your divine monologue

a remedy for loneliness

but today you are caged

a king behind bars

and I, free and frozen


no rest for widowed souls

only left with forlorn jesters

inner harlequins mock

foolish devotion

our worlds dance on

segregated


left with demons

who tear and feed

from my armor

my stength

my trust

your credence

my love

our love

Chasing the Sunlight


We're chasing the sunlight
the omnipresent fluorescent prospect
a daunting un-shattering tomorrow
a chance for total carnal rebirth
renew and change
begin again

Utter sweet songs of love
pound a mark on time
remember

Plunder the sky and
the smoking heart
shake dreams from their virgin heights
grasp and hold true

Embark and seek inspired
cerebral pleasures

Enter the dusty tomb
of an ancient inner light
shake clean

The journey's end in nowhere near
the thumping drums continue
and ring true
as we run headlong
chasing the sun.