Us and Them

We are all just scared little animals. Some growing wise, some not. In this era, intelligence is mocked and displays of arrogance and outspokenness are rewarded. The contents of critical thinking never applied to them.

And with gumdrop eyes.... Smiling at the term agreements, buying unneeded status items to stroke undeveloped egos. The last of us peddling our lives away. Faces of humility and desperation carried us off.

Then some sank into the salt. Drying up, dilapidating like a house left to the wilds. We watch them slither among the streets and concreted footpaths with doubt in their eyes and sand in their veins. To soak in the waters of the Earth, to breath blue fires into hearts. The darkness took us all.  Blank and obvious, we were the oil-touched ships of a dying generation whose bad seeds and stuttering amnesia signaled fires to the passerby's contemplative sonder.

Shamed Gold

Like pedaling with no hands, calm assures me. Deceitful tin encasing copper grins. The fellows by street lamps speak a tear to me and the shame knowest them not.

Sad hours seem long, as do the days climbing rocks with no rope and washing mud from skin. Trees glancing wind shields through locks long forgotten. However, vanity still swoons like some old friend run-in at a coffee shop. Acquainted, yet not endeared. And as those words shiver from me like beads of water off leaves, so too gone are the  syphoning of mirror-looks.

Prologue to an Epilogue

It was the afternoon of a Friday I had decided to die. I had repeated my vows to the Earth as it smiled more sneeringly than the moon. There were no more sinking ships to save. No more bills left unpaid or debts to settle. No more potential to squander. Now just simple principles standing erect on an open plain, I open my eyes to the reality of my glory. Personal though it may be, I was tired of wasting the hours. The only thing worth saving at this point would be someone else.