Jan. 27th

Today I am actually forcing myself to sit down and write what will be a first draft of my "bio". Many places that I've wanted to submit my writing require that a bio be added with the submission to be considered. It's not as easy as it sounds - for me especially, because I dislike talking about myself. I really do not know what it will look like yet; should I just concentrate on giving a broad overview of who I am, or do I let them see what a weirdo I can be :) I hope the answer will come to me as I write...

Monologues

Stranded again at the edge of the earth,
into heavy sighs and colored skies
On the island, the customs wave,
like fields of grain, winter wheat,
against the setting sun
Pockmarked intentions, lining the village
along the roads great crowds of fools,
cheering the burning of sage
Falling apart at the seams, the scarecrow,
in the tiny garden, as
greedy, stabbing mouths devour
humanity itself, a puddle at best
As the pea-soup fog lifted, the bones
were all that was left behind,
a grim reminder of days to come

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Rage

The sky disintegrates in to the palm of your hand,
lifting our spirits like pillars,
to hold up the pale moon, gaudily echoed
in the music of the village below.

Hold on to the morning winds,
eroding resolve like the ocean
to the shore, courageous and true,
the guardians of the dawn, stay the water.

Blood shines black against the mirror,
Blood flows under the skin of the Earth,
Blood betrays the pathway concealed,
and trickles to the center of humanity.

Caress her rosy features, pithy speeches
and feckless love in the clouds,
causing a great storm, and lighting
such is the rage of the gods -
and the sky fell apart in your hands

Jan. 20th

As self-doubt and procrastination creeps in, I have to remind myself just what it is that I am trying to accomplish - not only with this blog, but in everything I do in life. It has been very easy lately to be consumed with the idea of falling into past behaviors that are quite self-destructive. I do not want to end up in those dark places again. I do know that whenever I start to feel that way, I take comfort in the fact that I do have friends in my life that mean a great deal to me - I believe now, more than ever, that the power of such friendships can pick me up even out of the lowest valleys. I am honored to have such people that I care about, and they will be an inspiration to me now and in the future...

Neon Lullaby

Late nights crossing the
rusty old bridge,
addled humanity scrambling
along every boardwalk,
every nook and cranny,
filled with eyes
And the neon lights,
blinded our gaze, concealing
the horror's within the heart
of our tainted city
Footsteps softly heard,
around broken street corners,
shattered glass, like so many
dreams, strewn across pathways
where children tread
Breathing in against the stillness
of the night, tracing the lines of
billboards, painted with colors of
promises that cannot be kept
And the murals weep bitterly,
tears of blood as they are
witness - etched by the years
gone by, and those who have
departed
When the morning comes, and the rain
washed away the stains
of the night, the city is revived,
bright as the sun, gleaming off
dark glass towers, reflecting
impossible dreams into the eyes of
a thousand souls,
keeping us alive for one more day

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Sunbeams

Melting the ice coating your
flaming heart
One night with you,
worth ten thousand nights

Alone on your cloud in the sky
where tears turn into shooting stars
and the gods fear to tread
you're somebody

As the sunbeams rain on diamond shores
splintering thoughts into light
He remembered the last call
and Amber waves on the horizon

Secluded in the rocky hills,
of her intentions,
a place no one can reach!
O' come down from your steely
convictions

Down into his waiting arms,
along the river banks of a river
known as Serenity
In the eyes of sweet sin

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Jan. 11th

It's hard to believe that this Thursday the 13th would have been my daughter's (Alora Jean Marshall)16th birthday. It's really difficult to think about, and in fact I have been engaging in heavy doses of self-medication in an attempt to overcome those melancholy feelings. I realize that she does not want me to do these things, but for now it is what it is. Since she died almost 4 years ago, every year has become just a little bit easier to live overall, but on these anniversaries it still hasn't gotten that way. One problem that I run into quite frequently is that most people have no idea how it feels to lose a young child (which is a good thing) and whenever I mention something about it, most also have no idea what to say, and I find that I am the one comforting them instead of vice-versa. I will keep on moving, and I will celebrate her birthday, as I have done and always will do - but I am ready for this anniversary to be over with.

Sparks

Awake in your eyes,
burning like a thousand stars
alone in your arms
unable to escape your embrace
you, my love, a slave to mine
Natural, like the dawn
An inescapable fate,
a talent unknown to me
Once again drawn towards your flame,
in the ashes we rise
Past the point of no return,
at the median
of her heart I feel at home
A new frontier,
in the ocean sorrows
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For Old Times' Sake

Serve the kings the bottom of the barrel,
at the peasants feet they plead

With a heart full of lust,
and belly full of hunger

Unseemly, ungainly, unwanted
feelings pouring from the fountain,ÊÈÉ
of her eyes

From the center of the forehead
a stream of black consciousness

And lighting exploded across
the glory in her sky

With a hurricane force wind,
he fell at the edges of her lake
like a ripple of the mind

Joined together by an infants dreams
a spiral in the darkness of hopelessness
like the edge of the abyss

One more kiss, on fire
a taste of this body
for old times' sake
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Lost Faith

Torn away by the autumn wind,
dragged down into the sparkling green meadows,
as the moon and the beasts devour
the bread of dark auras,
tinged with the pain,
of the departed ones

With claws and fangs at the ready, the harlots
scan the empty horizon for new meat
all the talent in the orbit of the sun
fear and lust abound,
like red roses in the springtime
fermented love, tangled in shining hair

Now locked away in the silver season,
a thousand eyes burn a hole into a single point,
lost in the tide of the dark water,
like some ancient demon,
dribbling sacred oaths,
and terrible retribution

Etched upon the eyelids of the old soldier
the bloodbath of humanity,
like a summer romance, swiftly dying
as the evening sun sets into the foothills,
the stars smile down upon us,
a mother to our child

Jan. 4th

I was writing something in a Facebook message to a friend of mine about the idea of 2011 being a year of getting things done. I said something to the effect of: "lets make 2011 the year of will do instead of hope to." I think that idea is the basis for success during the coming year for me. I've always been good at hoping for the best and expecting the worst, but there's a good chance that by the end of this year, I will rename 2011 the have done year instead maybe next year...

The Magpie

O, hammer away at the frozen heart
with picks and shovels and filthy hands
grasping and clawing for sweet redemption
feeling about the chest, for some shiny trinket,
before the magpie takes it away
full mouths gasping for breath, in plain desperation,
like an unquenchable thirst

O, stagger along, through the fire and the dust,
another blue sky
convulsing and wretched, pulling on the tendons
the delicate drapery of insanity, carefully arranged
on the windows of a swollen brain,
like a dagger on the night sky

O, peer at the girls with starving eyes, from inside
the old abbey, never ceasing to desire
frantically resisting, the curvature
of their red satin lips
aged and diminished by the relentless hourglass
the wrinkled monk pounds with clenched fists
and gnawing teeth, at the edges of dawn

O, dance for me one time, shooting stars of the Nile
an performance fit only for the Pharaoh,
at home under the Great Pyramids, golden sands
reaching until the horizon ends, shining like
the ocean at sunset, dreaming of the icy moon
resting in my goblet, and the world in her hands