I Fucked Up, Mostly.

From the direction that the wind
had been howling your name,

I listened closely,
to its tune, lingering,
looked up to the sky,
to see each star on high,
set to fire, and burning.

I fucked up, mostly,
all along, ignoring things,
looking down too much,
found myself out in the cuts
car on dead and I’m walking.

Beneath tonight’s gas giants,
I stand howling your name.

Loop.

The looped-sound,
had been there,
in the background,
annoying,
skin-crawling,
spinning around…
thought-twirling,
discerning,
any new learning,
or knowledge found,
high frequency,
ear-drum atrocity,
this noise,
is killing me…
the noise,
resounds,
above the soil,
and underground,
molten-melted foil,
of a dead King’s,
former crown,
reminiscent…
of the tears,
dropped down,
residually,
hanging,
on its sound,
dripping water,
drops…
to the ground,
above,
my head,
sadness surrounds,
whirring,
winding,
tightly around,
this thumping,
this beating,
this…
primordial sound,
commands me,
moves me,
to speak,
concisely,
certainly expound.

Vessel.

No anchor,
been thrown,
no line,
being towed,
a vessel’s ghost,
defective lifeboat;
it’s a truth,
indeed,
to behold,
adrift,
afloat,
a dead pirate’s,
stronghold,
beloved,
lifelong sailboat;
tried and tied,
only by,
the darkness,
of the bays,
skippered,
by the lies,
of yesterday;
anyone who,
thinks he wants to,
try to sail in,
and be made,
to look a fool,
on location,
will only ever see,
this vessel sink,
into the sea,
or over the,
horizon’s brink;
can’t quite ping,
my position,
most secret,
of traditions;
alone,
all gone,
no rise,
of the sun,
moonlight,
shines strong,
my metaphoric,
aquatic tombstone.

Trample.

I can’t help it – that I’m inclined to worship Hope;
it is hardwired into my spirit to either die, or believe;
they’ve always said: that I run the air in my head,
in its purest form – un-buffered and painfully…
which doesn’t always work out so well for me;
as the resigned souls grow affectedly irritated;
by the squinting of eyes against a pinprick of light,
the unknown ahead has already left their minds jaded…
there’s a reason that my heat smolders Hope eternally;
it’s a valid reason that’s simple enough to perceive;
that there was a day – thousands of days before now,
that the ember died out and my spirit ceased to believe…
and it was during my meanderings through darkness;
that I felt the searing pain and end of days for sunshine;
and so goes why every pinprick of shining light at the end,
becomes more meaningful with each new glance of mine…
very rarely does a person truly drink down the nectar;
as it drips like diamonds of dewy wisdom from our trees;
all too often, we lose sight of the teeny pinpricking lights,
and are either trampled by others, or you’re doing the trampling…
and if we aren’t careful, the tunnel blacks out once again;
the light at the end barricaded behind piles of trampled bodies;
it’s a natural response to harbor an unspoken urgency,
when everyone around you is in such a Gods damned hurry.