PYRE

‘tis only right,

but we ain’t got time

for a proper burial.

 

Even a cairn

of unbridled possibility

stacking up to cover up

bodies

we pray you’ll never have to see.

 

We don’t want no animals

poking ‘round the remains.

The scent of fresh blood on the air

will drive ‘em down the valley

…and we want to be long gone by the time they get here. 

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WORTH

shuttled through the tunnels

like so much spoiled meat

snuffling and a’snarling

this beast upon two feet

 

Minotaurian presence

half-man, the body shared

double the size of mere mortals

if anyone dared care

 

he had no strings to tie him down

or keep him on the path

this city was a festering sore

‘twas dim, and dank, and daft

 

it was another of their tests

the smarmy, grim cabal

gave no twine or map, no lights down here

as he felt along tepid tiled walls

 

cast about into the depths

naught much more than thoughts

how it was he got this far

how much he had lost

 

find his way somehow, he would

these subways built to last

also ran quite systematic

he’d be out before much time had passed

…and that is the truth.

This came up in today’s reminders on the FaceSpace. Looks like a day for blog posting.

This is a song directly after a break-up (two months or so) to the point where I was moving on, I think. There’re some themes that have traveled to other songs and poems, but I like this. I don’t recall writing it.

As an added bonus, there’re some Dark Tower references here.

Enjoy!

glad to be a part of something bigger
when all I can think of is myself
I would like to stop thinking of her
but I’m accustomed to this hell
flames lapping up about my feet
as she pours on gasoline
how I tied myself so tight to this tree
no wonder I cannot be free

oh how the fire it keeps on burning
oh unto a crispy black
all these things I should be learning
if I could only have her back

all the while I’ve been plotting
how I can triumph from this test
all these hecklers are a’watching
as I dance the dance of death
throw upon those useless branches
as smoky ‘membrances rise higher
there go my bridges with my chances
as my vision’s growing tired.

oh how the fire it keeps on burning
oh unto a crispy black
all these things I should be learning
if I could only have her back

calling out across the courtyard
calling out across the square
as my breath escapes me so hard
calling up into the air
someday soon I shall be born again
like a phoenix from the ash
I plead for all the help that you can send
so I can let go of my past

The Man Who Knows

shuttled through tunnels

like so much spoiled meat

snuffling and a-snarling

the beast upon two feet

 

Minotaurian presence

half-man the body shared

double the size of normal men

if anyone dare care

 

he had no strings to tie him down

or keep him on the path

this city was a festering sore

’twas dim and dark and draft

 

it was another of their tests

this smarmy grim cabal

no twine, no map, no lights down here

felt along tepid tiled walls

TTOWBW: Last 4th of July: Plan of Attack (NaPoWriMo17 3/30)

20170403_131712Founder’s Mound on the common green

where heads of state still sleep

rings of concrete and of trees

be careful where you step

Circles kept them safe at bay

from rolling over in their graves

gazes baleful, turned their way

should the two dare aim to misbehave

Stood stock-still as ceme’try stones

as the two boys hurried past

the Red Eyes rose to their full height

to the old rules they held fast