Christmas Spirit
The feat of feeling Christmas for more than a moment had been so wonderful that the fleeting emotions he had of it since, he clung to, smothering them until they died by desperation. That morning, when he had been standing in line for coffee, a little girl waved goodbye to everyone in the store yelling, “Merry Christmas!” Her mother had laughed and the two of them left.
He had felt Christmas then, too, as though the wish “Merry Christmas” could transcend to a commandment and his spirit had quickly arranged itself to be, not happy, but merry. He caught the look on the man’s face in front of him, the dried wrinkled face that didn’t smile at the little girl and when catching his eye, didn’t smile at him either, though he had attempted one himself. The old man huffed and turned back to the line. The line. Something about standing in line for coffee in all its mediocrity obliterated merry to mundane. He was standing in a line getting coffee and no one cared that it was Christmas.
Dying To Live
I seek and I find
From the eyes of the blind
Only one life to live
Break out of this bind
With nothing to give
Fall back and rewind
But I cannot change time
Can't rearrange this rhyme
Am I dying to live
Or just living to die
I understand some men cry
As I stand and I sigh
In this land where I'll die
Once before I could see
That there must be more for me
Love is an illusion
Lust is reality
Trust in looking for a door
But it's locked without a key
A deception of hope is a
twisted destiny
Where is the rest of me?
Do I testify my sins?
Do I seek and find again?
While I'm weak in mind again
Pushing back all that has been
Do I reach out for a friend?
Give my soul more time to mend?
Ending up smoking a joint
Screaming what the fucks the point?
With the world upon my shoulders
And the seasons growing colder
And I'm only getting older
DJD
And my fucked up mind
Eyelid Curtains
My eyelid curtains are shuttered
sorrow decimates my heart
tiny shards flying through window
smashing on my essence sidewalk
where I used to walk, unfettered.
Life's black draperies obliterate
the lighted world where I once trod.
I can watch my spirit play out
breathless in the blankness
of my soul canvas, struggling
to come into crystal light
breaking through powdered towers
of what I might have been, before
my nightmares careened recklessly
into solitary corners of my mind.