Apology

Dear Dave,

I'm a horrible, stupid person

and I love you.

- Sharon

- April 27, 1984, A.D.

This is My Life

A poem day

a stifling, hot, hateful day

a day for the city to sweat from its own hot air

A journey inward

trying, trying for a good feeling

zombies running in a term paper maze

be exact

do it right

this is your life

sleepless nights 

daytime haze

tomorrow looks gray is today already

stomach hurts

wanting to double over

wanting to forget for just one moment the constricting

walls of this prison

nervous laughter

no real smiles

tears from unknown wells

broken bonds

broken promises

plastic people in pastel cages

this is my life

a whisper from a distant realm of my heart

tells me to find peace

no peace

only aching moments

only tomorrow is tomorrow is another day

but not a new one

trying to see beyond the deadline

to life again

everyone wilts beneath the pressure

not today -

tomorrow, I'll try

only promises to myself

take a bow

for something real

one day off is all I need - 

one night on the town

but no one sees the real thing

their heads are turned down

to the words

the words mean well

but are destroyed

I've come so far so fast

and now, what's this?

it is not yet time to break loose

another week and I'll be complete

holding out and holding on

night and day come as extremes

I wanted summer until it arrived

now, I'd do anything for a cold winter

summer only brings fall

and downfall

I will see it through

I will live again

it will happen, I know

Egypt to Falsetto

Falstaff to Francke

Goethe to Hearst

nothing more in this place

but this is my life

I will see it through

- April 27, 1984, A.D.

It Still Holds

Another empty day

another lifeless existence

what's one more tear to a face that's seen floods?

what's one more wound to a bleeding, dying soldier?

There is a break in the glass

where the cold air invites itself in

I wait for the blast of wind that'll shatter 

the window

sitting, waiting, 

each blow is stronger

waiting, waiting,

it still holds

that's the worst part

it won't be over with

it still holds

ragged shoes tread

the wet, musty floor

where the rain - the tears - have fallen

too worn to care

what's one more drop of water 

when it's already ruined?

I stand in front of the window

watching, waiting

expecting the next wind to send glass slivers 

into my face and eyes

but it still holds

Out the window, I see a world I once knew,

I once understood

Now, I'm confined to the inner chambers of 

this prison

watching, waiting

living for giving in --

to what?

I don't know, something

I'm looking out the window to another life

waiting, watching 

for the storm to come

what's one more death to a mortal world?

- April 16, 1984, A.D.

Reunited

I stepped out to see the moon tonight

and it stepped out to see me

it had been such

a long, cold winter

but the moon still took audience with me

nothing had changed

I've been listening to the awkward, beautiful tunes

of Autumn, again

I have not lost love

When I stepped out tonight, I knew that the moon had not 

deceived me

not in all this time

no one had deceived me

but myself

all that is over, now

yet, it all flows into one

into me

the moon is but a reflection of myself

and in it,

I am never deceived

I have not lost love...

- April 16, 1984, A.D.

The Noose

"I sold my soul to love you"

you say

but I know you sold nothing

you gave me nothing

and held on to me 

like a noose around a dead man's neck

an innocent man

And even now I am not free

you wanted me to rot

you wanted me to hurt 

like you

I could never hurt

when I saw you like a pitiful rodent

trying to bring me down with you

Precisely what I did to you 

was nothing

this, you would never admit

I never knew you

I was aware of the little world you had created

in your mind

I was aware that I was a player on your stage

but unaware that when I walked away,

I would feel the tight grip of your choker-chain,

cutting off my air

forcing me back towards you

you wanted me

in the palm of your sweaty hand

I saw it as a fool's power-trip

now, as a madman's

I don't know what it was,

but you sold your soul to something

long before we met

I never believed that such a pathetic creature as you

could do so much damage

but you have left me barren

They have locked you in your room

but what can they do for me?

my life is barely existence

I have forgotten what reality means

Tonight, I'm getting you out of my closet

and fitting you right

and hanging you straight

the wooden beam in the ceiling should hold

I'll kick away the chair, now

and again fall victim to your grip

but this time, no resistance

and he who will succumb to your destruction

is forever

an innocent man

- April 8, 1984, A.D.