NOTHING MUCH

...for some the wounds never heal,
and the bleeding heart would not seal.
scars can not find a place
beacuse there is just corroded flesh.

MIGRAINE

This was then and that is now
Auras, trees and broken boughs.
An insomniancs dreams in the dark
Behind watery eyes, a faint light lurks.
A hundred bells ringing, a thousand drums roar
And a battered brain can not take much more.
A search for Salvation fading out fast
Peace of mind, a thing of the past.
Reaching out from beneath the murky waters deep
Tired of fatigue but there still is no sleep.

Amytriptilline....

"AGE"

Drops of youth, drizzling fast,
The virgin greenery flashing past,
As a little boy rides his fantastic steed,
The strappling beast is flying indeed.
Flying through the clouds hanging about
Its hooves kicking up fire, without a doubt.
The little boy holding on to the mane
The fiery spirit easing all his pain.
Untamed, the beast soars to the sky
The moon and the stars pass it by.

It kept up its demanding pace,
The flowing years, it tried to race.
A futile venture, one it could not win.
It lost to Age, fast though it had been.
The little boy, now a strong man,
Dismounted and far and fast he ran.
He wanted power, he wanted speed
Not an old, slow, and useless steed.
The horse and the rider, as one they lost
“Another victim of mine”, Age did boast.
tty

MAYBE

Maybe it is just another day
And I can be what I may.
Maybe it is just another night
And I can not be all right
Maybe I will lend you an ear
And I will pretend to hear,
To all your woes and stories sad.
May be I am all I had.

Maybe I can be what I may
Because it is just another day
Maybe I can be not all right
Because it is just another night
And I pretend and act right through
And I hate I have to do
And I forget all I ever knew.
Maybe: only maybe is true.

RAIN

Unbeckoned, one stormy night,
Lightening flashes and the thunder roars,
The darkness; a beautiful sight.
Relentless and unforgiving, the clouds pour
The cold water: the torrid rain
Not to be seen but heard so well
As raindrops patter on the windowpane
And whisper softly a bedtime tale.
Leaden eyelids and an overpowering urge
To float away and linger around,
To get drenched and to purge
The mind of its sins; those to be found.
Lost, on one stormy night,

Sleep beckons and dreams smile bright.

THE ANTIDOTE

(1)
Lights blinked around my open eyes
Seeming to be a thousand little fireflies.
I knew they were but in my head
Holding on to sanity, though doom it may have bade.
I saw sunshine everywhere,
Shining on mirrors, clear beyond compare,
Except somewhere in my scorched heart-
Where darkness always plays a mean part.
A mean part in an unending play,
Throw in some dissent into the fray.

(2)
The tendrils of the dark started to creep
Like a toxic poison through me it may sweep.
I reached out for the antidote, that called love
But my head asked my heart: “Am I good enough?”
I hesitated; I could not answer that
My body racked, as brooding I sat.

(3)
I want to get over things like these
But the devil takes over- I start to wheeze.
Suddenly all change, everything goes dark,
Misshapen and grotesque shadows lurk.
(4)
Gloom settles down, thunder-clouds roar
Sunshine tries in vain to push to the fore.
The chill breeze ripples the surface of the lake
The devil has found another nubile soul to take.
To make it his own and order it around
So it does his bidding without uttering a sound.
(5)
I see darkness, and I see pain
I look back, and I see my bane.
I see sorrow, and I see tears
I see nothing and i feel unknown fears.
I run left, and I look right,
Then i see hope- a single ray of light.
(6)
I swim throught he darkness and trudge through the swap,
And to salvation.
The light comes closer; grows bigger too.
Spreading its arms to embrace me; I feel no woe.
I reach out for it
With my eyes strangely lit.
(7)
I reach out for the antidote: that called love
I give myself up; it does not feel so tough.
I give myself up to love
As it courses through me and makes me laugh.
I give myself up to love

The antidote is something I can never have enough.

A BALEFUL SONG

Once upon a time when it still rained,
There lived a man; the tides waxed and waned.
Crimson tides- right or wrong?
Soulful eyes and a baleful song.

But the seas dried up and icebergs loomed
Dark red flowers no longer bloomed.
The flowers bled their crimson red
Pale and wrinkled, lost and dead.
But it rained; it rained lust,
The man smiled in death for the sordid past.
People repulsed and emotions scorned,
Laughed till they cried; only one mourned.
Not out of love but loathing deep
He understood it to be paradoxical grief.

Oh, no!
Oh, no!
Oh, yes!