I lay awake at night
and listen to the clinging thoughts
clang! clang!
hammers pounding away
same intensity as yester year
and years before that
and the years after
cling! clang!
thoughts pounding away
chipping away nothing
just competing with the slow clock
tik tok!
The sickening slow ebb of time
nauseates
wait,
the last feel of your touch
has been devoured by maggots
it's skeletal,
lonesome
in a grave of oblivion
wait,
the last words you spoke
have frozen
sculptured into a knife
that cuts my soul into smithereens
I used to indulge in the pain
It was a welcome refuge
wait,
what are are waiting for?
I am waiting for the sun to freeze this dawn
once again
and make a sculpture of all your memory
a knife of sorts
to cut me all over again
for I am whole
who are we to the big universe?
are we tiny specks of sands
are we giants?
does the universe laugh at our
exaggerated importance
does it get buoyed by our indifference? sometimes
Is it patiently waiting to trample us
into oblivion?
In the meantime, give me a beer
it is the only way I can become one
with the universe..
The walls, silent walls listen
to the songs of your angst
the darn walls do not even applaud
they sit still, not even apprehensive
that you will breakdown -
the darn walls
the mosquitoes fly by with sick oblivion
seeking your blood as they you are their ranch
and their annoying whir - god their annoying whir
sickens you to your stomach
they rob you the little sleep you are bargaining for
the sleep you've bargained for six hours
and now dawn is here
the alarm does not raise you -
you raise the alarm
and the alarm snoozes you
because you are tired,
tired of thinking - tired of dawns
that bring nothing but weary dreams
I do not get it - I do not even want to contemplate
How can someone's life choices offend me?
I go for the superficial - the one you have chosen to show
The rest is between a secret and darkness
I do not want to know
The deep is between you and your gods
Show me what I need to know
I will not go for the hidden meaning
You are not a poem
or a work of art
I do not care who you are when you slip
into the darkness
It just is not worth my time
Once, I rode on your kiss
to lands, I must confess,
lands of bespoke pleasure
Just why did I mess?
Once, your smile lit my soul
and your smile echoed in my head
long after you were gone
then, I felt alive - now I am dead
Once, your steps led you to me
and mine to you - we often met halfway
then we indulged in ourselves
now, there is not much to talk or say
aromas of freshly cooking meals
assail the lone man in his crib
children wail,
mothers scold errant children
tired mothers scold their children
threatening - as a form of affection -
to thoroughly clobber them
still usurps the night
and the bachelor, roused by hunger,
prepares a shoddy meal
everything else is still
the world is still
except the existential worries
