Tag Archives: escape

Sound and Thunder

Caroline lays upon the couch, eyes closed,

the wall of warm noise in her headphones.

It’s night, and the stars and the city shines.

Alone, the music embraces, soothes, quiets her.

Overlapping guitars and that angel voice,

that mournful woman, haunted and holy.

A cocoon of sound and thunder, the words

half heard and wholly felt, taking her to the sky.

The night is warm, her heart is full of love,

and she dreams again, for the first time in so long.

That mournful woman, calling back something lost,

but maybe in calling it back, it can be made whole again.

Maybe Caroline can be whole again.

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The Great, Grey Sea

She’s asleep in the back seat, at peace it seems.
Maybe she’s having sweet and beautiful dreams.

A soft love song plays on the radio, soothing me.
I’m not stopping this care until we make it to the sea.

The stars are more than I’ve ever seen, angels at rest.
We’re leaving home, those bastards, devils of the west.

 

I glance back in the rearview mirror, at her sweet face.
A cottage on a barrier island, that is just the right place.

I don’t want we’re running into, but know what from.
A tarnished wedding band, and a piece of land, got the sum.

She’s sleeping without the demon, for the first time tonight.
We’re hounded by things both within and beyond our sight.

 

A love song can put magic spells to the madness you feel.
Make it a solid thing, a thing you can believe is real.

The road’s wide open before us, and hope, if nothing for sure.
Love and hope, a place to be still, that is the angels sacred cure.

The sea changes and is still the same, like her, like her wild heart.
She will be scarred forever, but we have a chance at a new start.

 

Sleep and dream, my love, we’ll be free in the morning.

Warm Like Eden

Long and pale red hair, falling over slim shoulders.

Slim shoulders kept safe by a soft, light brown jacket.

A sweet face content in a pale ale and BLT.

Safe. I feel safe watching her.

I said “Hello.”, touching her soft jacket.

It felt warm like Eden.

Angel in a swank sports bar, as hell follows a lost faith’s pale horse.

She hugs me, and I believe the stars will remember us.

A hit of hope in her kindness, and her light, as I lose track of God and man.

And then home, to call them up for war.


All Was Beautiful

The war was over. The war was coming.

The war was eternal.

We had but a moment to catch our breaths.

Me and her, on the back of an old Honda,

riding to the lush trees, high mountains,

and first snows of a just begun winter.

The air cold and sharp, burning our lungs.

The sky grey as the eyes of a distant God.

The road open, deceptively endless.

In the distance, on the border, canon fire.

We could not escape the war, or loss, or death.

Just pretend for a moment, that all was beautiful.

The motorbike whined and I pulled the throttle.

She held on tight, and the blur was a mischievous dream.

Just pretending for a moment, that all was beautiful.

Hope. A Wedding Dress

A gone to seed part of town,
by the water tower and interstate.
Thrift store beneath the overpass,
spend afternoons, our little money.
We made wonders of these scraps,
we made our light from these rags.
We found treasures of The Word there,
and we found a place to be as one.
One day, you found a wedding dress,
pure white and chintzy lace, faux pearls.
You came out of the dressing room,
looking like an angel, most wonderful girl.
Always said, you’d never marry,
never had a family, never lead that kind of life.
Seeing you there, I wanted you to be wrong,
for it to be you and me and on my wedding day.
And the years have passed, and I’m not young,
and you were taken from us, ripped from us.
You never married, and neither have I, will I.
The winter is just a reminder of light passing by.
I remember you, in that wedding dress, so bright.
Smiling, so happy, so lost in some dream, of hope.
It wasn’t our wedding day, and the world’s moved on.
But I remember, waiting for the hammer to fall.

Blue, My Favorite Color

The train rocks and shimmies and shakes,

and it almost lulls me to sleep, half awake,

like an infant in her mother’s arms.

No lullabies.

The brown townhouses, the little yards,

lights on in second story windows, life,

like tableaux for my god like eyes.

I am not godlike.

The Atlantic, I imagine cold, gunmetal gray,

and deep and as empty as the sky above it,

which will, perversely, be blue and bright.

Blue, my favorite color.

I sit on the beach, the Atlantic Blue, eternal,

and not a cloud in the sky, I drink iced tea.

I finish it, go under, lost like a drop in infinity.

Cold water doesn’t feel.

Simple, But Beautiful

Blue dress, simple but beautiful,

down to the tips of her soft shoes.

Wide brimmed hat, shaded eyes,

a pretty outfit she did not once choose.

The night is wet, just after a late rain,

and it’s so still as Sunday Morning comes.

She hears his car coming up the road,

the bass thumping like timpani drums.

She could run to Alberta prairies with him,

to the place he’s made for them to start anew.

A place quiet, away from a sleeping world,

with pretty flowers sparkling with spring dew.

She could stay in this town that feels is taking

all that she cherished, all that the angels command.

But does this man love her, or is she a dream?

Chose this dress; what else will he always demand?

His car is coming, too fast, too loud, and she sighs.

Will he grow bored, will her grow mean, up in the plains?

The world is the world, wherever you runaway to,

same heartache and tears and emotional strains.

She’ll have to choose, stay or go, run or fight,

go with this man, or find another way to be alive.

The blades of fate cut you skin whichever way you go,

but there must be a way in this darkness to thrive.

Harsh With Peppermints

Her breath was hot and wet,
Harsh with peppermint.

Her hair fell loose, veiled our faces,
As the stars sighed and were spent.

July 6th, but still fireworks explode,
Low rent razzle dazzle in the night.

She is thin, small chested, taut wire,
And a new Athena now in my sight.

This is life wanting to plant seeds of death,
To make and nurture an inevitable loss.

I am a pilgrim of pleasure, devoted to her,
Ignoring the light reflected in her gold cross.

Her hand is sweaty, moist, in my own.
She hums a love song as we walk up stairs.

On her thin, hard bed we quietly make love.
Passions, like angels, are made to be pairs.

Horror And Lightness

Space between the air.
Beyond seeing, but not feeling,
I know she watches.

A face behind the eyes
Of a swimsuit model’s poster,
Tempting me to leave.

The sex and the sorrow,
The promise of a mystery
Beyond what I see.

The promise that she
Can look like that model
And that she can heal my scars.

Horror and lightness, like first desire,
Fill my lost and empty heart,
As a Cara and not a Joan promise

The sea where demons stay asleep
And that flesh and spirit make the stars
And the moon will always be the eye.

From behind the eyes of a swimsuit model
She beckons, the sweet and little death
Of washing away sorrow with magic.

“Will you come?”

“Will you come?”

Perfected Skin

Swimsuit model, with long dark hair,

a glint in her blue eyes; devil may care!

Lithe and strong, flesh made taut as wire,

like iron on the anvil, made strong for desire.

In azure waters, sparkling like blue jewels,

in places so distant from mortal rules,

she is goddess and siren, and she calls, calls,

to some dream beyond my madness and falls.

On my wall, queen of my restless fantasies,

with her in wild islands and warm tropical seas.

A carnal heaven, lust and love made one, perfected skin.

A place where what’s coming can’t find me ever again.