love song for an insomniac

Sleep and breath

And the rivers wash over me

The night sky above shines every star as equal

The waters calm

The night is still

The air is cool and fresh

Sleep and dream

And let the world be silent

Sleep and slip from existence

Tonight.

Pandora

Note: this is one of my favorite things that I have written…that NOBODY else ‘gets’ or likes. So I’m posting it anyway (haha). I love it (I’m not ashamed to say), don’t care that nobody else does :”)   ~ G

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Pandora’s box opens wide,
and the world springs out. . .

Cardboard boxes, plastic chairs,
and concrete buildings
fill the air
tar and asphalt everywhere.
Computers build our history
and numbers are given to you and me,
and Crime becomes our Goddess.
Creatures from beyond our mind
crawl out  from the Box to find
their own…new…Prehistory.
Shadow’s from beyond our grave
have now become our Mortal slave
…and we our folly Masters.

To shut this Box,
we kill in vain
and shout out every Mythic name
and Death becomes our enemy.
We build our castles of
glass and sand
knowing well they cannot stand
but Nature is our sin.
Pandora knew, but chose to dwell
in a modern information hell
that we, her offspring, keep.

My number is my History
and everything that I will see
of her…grand…Creation.
But why I ask, and ponder deep
was Pandora given this box to keep
with such a feeble lid?
Can it be, curiosity,
is not the sin that we perceive
but Eden in a well?
The tortures that we mass spoon-feed
are the only things our Monsters seed
but if we stop the One with heart
the other must then fall apart
and now begins…Serenity.

NeverWas

everything that was
isn’t
and the never will be that was
has become
and sitcom after sitcom
you sit here and stare at me
waiting for me to Be
but deep down under
the cement and pavement
of this numb world that I’ve
begotten
is something more green and beautiful
than whole
and the everything that isn’t
may yet become
but only if I stand upright
for once
just once
for you
and no shout loud enough
could be heard by all
so time now, to stand
time now, to kneel
before and beside you
and never think again
of That.

one more

One more drink
and I’ll call you back
one more, just one more
and I’ll call it off
Another night
a long, long drive
and maybe, just maybe
I’ll fall in love
Turn the key
the one stuck inside of me
must be some way
to find it
Another drink
and I’ll see you there
one more, just once more
I know I have to call it off.

In Truth

things click
and then slip
and I can’t quite catch them
fast enough
my mind speeding on
towards whatever infinity
destiny seeks
or obliterates by design
inside of me.
I can see everything at once
by sense or feel
I can touch the whole gram of
“existence”
and yet never construct
or instruct
or in effect
Affect
one single molecular compound
Being.
I Need
what I feel.

but I am never real.

pictures

Pictures

Somehow, detached

Some other plane of time

Yet in our own history

Photos in a frame

In boxes and drawers

Evidence

Of times

Times we have

Memories are there but seem

Detached somehow

Unreal

So many roads inbetween

So many miles

Can these pictures be real?

A part of my own history?

So many miles

covers my memory in dust.

careful does the wind fall

careful does the wind fall

on the weathered beaten

slippery is the ice

on every path

dark is every forrest

that one passes through

and grayer no sky ever was

in this bleak and destitute scenery of a life

what happiness is expected here?

in the tombs of our ancestors they have written

that hope

hope lies within

when darkness overcomes the day

only what is within is left

careful does the wind fall

and slippery is the path

dark is the forrest

and grey is the sky

walk only in the light

the light that shines within

walk only in the light

through this neverending night.

[after a very bad night…~ G]