Aspired

Your bones
Cling still
To that wall.

A forever scene
Of your
Last stand.

Bleached,
The colour of time.
A pale reminder

That you tried

To climb higher
Than anyone

Is allowed.

Not a Problem Solver

Full of
Ready words.
Confronted by
Endless
Open doors.

Unable
To find
Anything
To say.

Or to see
A way out
Of this.

Oh Don’t You Speak To Me

Wrap that sound.
Soft and gentle. 
Paper and string.
Then send it my way.
It can gather dust,
On a shelf in the corner.
Until, the last time.
Shaking hands reach.
To pull that bow,
Loose.

Why Will You Talk But Say Nothing At All

Your genius lay
In waiting.
A smile.
While I set my own trap.
Raised myself for
My great fall.
By the words I uttered.
With confident ownership.
Blind to the rising tide.
The sea of letters
And voices of mine.
That would drown me.
In the end.
While you smile.
As your silence
Will save you.

It All Comes Out In The End

Carrying a heavy meaning,
They float low on thick air.
Slowly circling us all.
Before dissolving in to
Average mist.

Those words so burdened,
Weighted by a sadness
Wrapped intricately around.
By the strange singer
Who breathes them
To life.

In his very last
Song.

Beaten To It

The wind stole
The heat from
My lips.
Before I had
A chance.
To blow a steam
Dragon.
With my final breath.
I wanted to send it
Flying on to you.
Wings of thought.
Scaled with emotion.
The delicate beast,
Would burn you
In the roar of
My last word.
But the wind.
Stole the chance. 
With the heat
From my lips.

Speak True My Friend

To speak
With false voice.
And smile
With false joy.
Is a skill to be
Cultivated
And cared for.
Yet to write
With fake words.
And a stolen style.
Will lead only
To revelations.
And tangles
Of lost souls.

A Stranger Explained

I saw it.
Neatly lined
Up and arranged.
Its place taken
Correctly on your
Thin bookcase.
Its spine thumb
Caressed over
So much time.
Those leather bound
Pages, printed
By a stranger,
But given to you.
To explain why
We would never
Both be here
Again, to see
It sitting
Innocently on
You shelves.

Hello and Welcome to.

Crackle. 
And. 
A voice is talking.
From so long ago.
A time when words
Had value.
He sounds so jolly.
Or so fake. 
Either way, it sounds
Old.
So very far away.
I listen to the fizz, pop
Voice, chirping away.
About news that makes
No sense.
To his audience of
One.
For awhile.
A crackle.
The life is
Gone. 

Too Deep, Too Far

Your thoughts
Are too heavy,
For me to carry.
Your words too
Thick with meaning,
For me to swim
Through. So
I stand alone.
With light thoughts
And thin words.
Too weak to
Reach you,
Behind these
Defenses you
Hold so dear.