Got the Drop

Half empty, another shot;

Half serious, love and anger;

Half a loaf, life a little less

Late at night before the fight

I know is always coming.

Where do we go from here

Is always the question

And the mindless, meaningless

Answer as the pendulum

Makes it’s dumb arc marking

Nothing but time and tides

That will never decide while

Eating away at the ground

Beneath our shuffling feet.

Personal best, pressure drop,

Drinking and sleeping alone

And walking on the empty

Sidelines of your own life.

Fighting for breath

In a house full of open doors

One closing feels like an blindfold

Full of noise and no time for sleep

Sitting alone after midnight

Listening to you breathe careless

Dreamless dark distances fill the room

This part isn’t love it isn’t anything

But disappointment and solitude

In the promised land broken and lost

With nowhere to rest and fighting

Sleep & Dreams

When you return tonight
Slow tired and warm with caresses
And kisses I’ll sleep alone
Apart from your crowded voices
And mad loves’ abandon

This tempest tosses my mind
Like a lost wing and loses my way
In the flittering dark
And the slow black below like
An ocean of still divers

Great Debate

The asymmetry of science and religion

Is so great the two can scarcely share a line.

The truths of the former stand undisturbed

By the latter, no matter what its claim may be,

While religion falls and lies, enraging, daggerfull

At every pinprick science incidentally delivers.

Soup Every Morning

Every green, running water,
And a thousand voices singing
Stars that cross the night.
Tribes come down like shadows
To make castles in the sand.
Here we were, a minute warmth,
An hour’s embrace, quiet days
And nights of eyes brighter
Than bright — fires, dancing,
Sighs, looping paths in the dark.
A long road to the heart for
A happy few, strong as stone,
Strong as love, and mercy
Full of wonder every morning.

Terminal Restlessness

Like the bird fighting a wire,
This flyer cannot run by rail
And falls, fluttering, well down
A tunnel steeper than night.
Lasting peace is always late,
A soft embrace like moonlit
Horses running away, subtle
As a dream at dawn — lost.