On the Grapevine

My life is spent here

in the dark,

watching reds

and counting cards;

sending thoughts

and dreams and hopes

into the fire

and the smoke

in hopes that out

the other side,

I will see my life

glorified.

I'd rather pity

than to be

behind a cloak

and never seen.

I know it's wrong

to feel this way -

after all, what would

my others say?

But the storm that keeps

inside my mind

is one that doesn't

fade with nights.

I'll love and fall

and start anew

until those reds

fade into blue.

The Arms of Possibility

Put down the papers

and turn from the screens,

pick up a pen or

take time to sing;

for you're damned either way

you direct your life,

but right now is unlike

all other nights. 

After so many evenings

of monot'nous change,

calm has, at last,

taken her place. 

Maybe forever

will never be,

but forever will surely

always see

that today existed, 

that a choice was made. 

Maybe it was absence,

or something as great;

but whatever lit up

the latest great dark

will forever be guilty 

for now's second half. 

Beast Waikato

A concrete stronghold

holds back a giant of our land,

forcing forces of anger

to keep and build. The lords

and masters of the stronghold and,

ergo, of that giant monstrosity, that

beast, know of the building frustrations that could eventually 

overcome their powers. So

once in a time and again, the beast is

let loose. A short leash keeps

the beast from causing chaos,

but allows a tantrum of magnitude 

to reek havoc on anything 

foolish enough to stand in 

the beast's allowed wake. 

And we watch. 

We stand on a viewing platform and

watch as momentary Armageddon 

takes hold. Some watch in awe,

some in fear; everyone has their reason, but the feelings are hardly

without each other. Regardless,

we stand and we watch as 

destruction ensues. Like a storm's

torrential wind, life and rocks are

beaten down and battered. And then…

it's over. Heaven or Hell takes hold 

of the poor and unprepared. But 

ultimately, the lords and masters

retain control with a crack of their

concrete whip. For now, at least, 

the beast is retained, until we fall.