midnight playground

[dillusional reflections from a midnight playground]

vacant world stares me down
unable to escape the droning sounds

of lights unused and wasting space
where imagined stand a sturdy face

saying it's alright and there is a reason
for unanswered probes and lack of cohesion

the dust settles thick and sits heavy here
wrecking lungs and reaching heart near

but now hearts are seldom and greed is great
in this sleepy desert suburb- full of unknown hate.


[challenging neverland]

it's past their bedtime but i hear them still
laughing and jumping - thuds bumps and shrills
the assumed innocence of the children who play
is lost when the brown hair envisioned is grey

the love and the purity grown to secrets and lust
they've learned their own lies have eaten their trust
the light in their eyes has changed it's source
from thirsty naiivity to tears they cant force

passion is a word now used only in anger
and the hope that kept pushing falls faster and fainter
so this midnight playground- that the youth should adore
has challenged neverland, created a place to abhor.

getting ahead

are any of us 'getting ahead?'
even with grand insight and underappreciated compassion
and a drive that could take us all to our moon and back

when that button is pushed
or that switch thrown
or that curse cast

our ahead is
their behind
and their behind

is just as fucked as ours.

unexpected bursts

those unexpected bursts
that by name come without reservation
but know they are invited before they arrive
like tonight and today and yesterday filled with these guests that make me question
if constant emotion can subsist or if i am in stable equillibrium waiting for the crashers
to arrive and bust up the party which does not exist
without reservation, invitation, or need of either

an event isn't an event if it is planned and destiny understood
its course cannot be run if we know where it is to end
it is merely a figment of our past seen from the future if no unsolicited guests arrive
nobody nothing something to break up the good time
burst our bubble
start the wheels turning the legs kicking and the life beginning

as much as we lie to ourselves that drama is yesterday and to forget it
it is our future
it is what we live for
for it is human and we are human and without these dramatic interactions we are
only looking into our past through a clear window with no pane to block our view and cannot see
that our future can't exist and our past can't exist and our present is not present
because we must leave life to the unknown unexpected
uninvited and continually feared
or there is nothing left for our minds to work for
nothing for the imagination to muster
nor for reality to shoot it down or create

let it work and be content in the mystery us
and say that dramatic is expected no matter how uninvited
let it take you kicking and screaming and laughing all the way
and you will sleep well dreaming your dreams with question marks dotted with smiles hanging
over your sleepy eyes
even if fear consumes your night a smile will arise with you as the sun follows suit.