Traces

The West

The last remnant, bewildered and small
that even before they spoke had seen it all
the missing clue, trace of tomorrow,
in a future unfortuitous and hollow

A forgotten piece of lonely math
under the tree where sages sat
once alive now mere periphery
at least that’s how they appear to be

Walking slowly in a distant crowd
talking from afar out loud
just as the people think knew best
the Sun shone from the West

Through the light of colored glass
the rays had nothing left to pass
straight lines of the spark once seen
shattered what was inbetween

God bless the last remnant inside
at large now so far and wide
gathered along Christ’s light abreast
all beacons shining from the West

Ungodly Melancholy

A lady wanders on the beach

dwelling on what’s out of reach
one arid, vast and long lost past

many futures, dire from the playing with fire
just when she thought she had seen it all

the Gods from the skies drop their volleyball

straight into her melancholic hands

this heavenly ball so purposefully lands
she throws it back into the air

for a moment these Gods hold it there

her bewildered face, it is their delight

then they throw with all their might
the ball to its predestined place
to hoover, linger and remain
she can’t deny nor can she explain
lo! in such a macrocosmic pace
lady goes and hits an ace

Captain John

He was a brother that we knew
so much shared by so many and so few
disembarked, a big part of our crew
a drunken life conquered and slightly anew
some others never made it as far as him
poured into one life’s mold most sorrow within
at least one son; his gracious lady free of sin
at least up to where his tiger’s eyes begin
so slowly did I see how they symbolize
and patronize his home in a thin disguise
brown stone bracelets, bright blue eyes
living where the dead do not yet arise
his grand ships of old are lagging far behind
the man watching far too many of his kind
abandoned by equals, too far gone to find
that all rods of time will one day unwind
John predicted a moment, just as a joke
his microphone closed, just after he spoke
that nothing was lost, that the sleeping awoke
in the deep of the night and as the day broke
I prayed for the Captain in his whisper boat
his spirit holding a course to stay afloat
on the rugged terrain where the river that slowed
to a standstill beneath the surface still flowed

Handing Over

Even nothingness and death are hard to leave behind
for a woman of the fighting kind
but autumns – they arrive to collect the salvaged
the gathered, the kept, the hidden, the baggage
I travel light, I tell them, the sword’s in the sheath
but that is just the surface and they see underneath
how my heart is crushed by every second of every year
that I have not had you near
the load must lighten, the nights get longer
they tell me but I do not know how, I wonder
do they have the wrong woman, the wrong address
God knows I will be handing over the emptiness

Wind

Let me imagine
this pain as wind blowing past my heart
suffocating it until it surrenders
breaking the most fragile part

Let me realize
this pain is never coming back around
if I cherish whatever is left beating
when the wind dies down

Mother Nature

Some creatures on the beach, you see
are not part of society
Mother Nature is their only home
the dunes their holy place to roam
they look like us when passing by
but there is more than meets the eye
they live in tune with all her songs
and travel where spirit belongs
at night as they lay their heads
unaware of modern dread
they sleep soundly, conscience clear
forever free from force and fear
out of reach of devilish voices
demanding we make different choices
those creatures on the beach, you see
Mother Nature is their identity

Sea of Fate

Let me drive without the brakes and
be the fool
who raised the stakes

karmic debt is mine to pay
If I must leave I’ll never stay

the ballast is of unknown weight but
by God
let me sail the sea of fate