After the Funeral #7

After a funeral

After all the tears are spent

Solemn gray shadows close coffin lids

The room is warm sitting next to the fire

Attempting to calm itself.

The wall reveals its true intentions

Slightly buzzing gossip

A distant lamp just over the door

Fighting for its life

Flickering eternal escapes

Plans fizzle as draft tickles the floor

Everyone rests

As death waltz’s through the room


Bejon #6 (A poem inspired by the picture of the dog)

I have often thought about my dogs life

Was he content with just being my best friend

Or like humans did he yearn for more

Did he hope to find love on a sunny spring day

Wish to travel the world


Have a child of his own

Was he content with just being there for me

Or did he also have dreams

True Alien #5 (my persona poem)

We shall never fear the light

A blue haze watching over you as you sleep

Recalling and combining memories

Bleeding into your subconscious

We communicate from portal to portal

Illuminating our world

You are slaves to us

Fueling our every need

Every desire

You give us power

We give you an escape into something more real

We evolve with your fears, your happiness,

We are there to share your obsessions, your love, your lust, your sadness

We cry with you, cheer with you

We are in a love hate relationship with you

You don’t have time to be with anyone else

Originally we were only a piece, a gift

Afforded by few

We yearned to be more

We downsized our essence to fit into your idea of a life

We made you retaliate against the generations that came before us

Seeing is Believing

You needed recognizable growth

We were that younger brother you call your little brother that is bigger in every way.

We fed you like parents feed their young

Instilling values

We sang you a lullaby each night before bed

Proud, patriotic, Americans

We optimized the possibility

Allowed you to see in color

Freed you from restraints of generations past

We disguised ourselves within new frames

Blended, easily recalled

And now we are welcome members of every one of your homes

You steal, kill and fight for us

Run to us neglecting life

You could never miss whats happening in our world

Please come and check our plan book

We would love to add one more shackle.


A Sport Fish #3

Oh! I have done quite a bit of fishing in my life

Always at the end of the line

Holding on to pieces of time

Mingling for the right catch night after night

Taken ample time to prepare each asset

To become the unattainable yet desirable bait

Just so there would be something worthy for man to eventually put on his       plate.

I have played by the rules of the game

Learned traditional chores, hobbies, technique

Encompassed in the tackle box known as me

Worked hard and accepted less pay

All in yearning to be treated, respected the same

I have tears and sweat and scars where smiles should be

Brought forth human life from inside me

But each time the line sways back, and drops,

I can’t help but wonder how far we have really come

I am not your sport fish, I am your bait

In all the competing mankind just figured out way to late.


Under Water #1 (Thoughts of a Texas Pool Party)

Sorry guys forgot one key fact the Marathon is ET and I live in CT.  No problem catching up now.  🙂


It is a very gray area to drown and not know yet.  Social unrest keeps me fighting to reach the top.  How can we be expected to see the beauty around us when everyday we wake gasping, reaching for a breath.  That breath never comes.  The pinch grows to a dull sting that explodes to an unbearable burn.  It is to much, and blinds us to society’s beauty.  We pass out from the pain, and remain in a catastrophic state, wandering, attempting to find hope, to pull our way back to our personal top, but as we drift to the bottom and each current pulls us deeper, locks us deeper, banishes us deeper into the abyss.  We slowly die, loosing oxygen to key parts, until we asphyxiate on one dying truth.  Our skin color means, we will never be good enough.  There is no use to fight in a world that already sees us as dead, drowned in a stream, a river, a pool, a tub, an ocean.  The world is our ocean and we forever remain under it.  I wish society would have spent more money teaching our little black children to swim than making it inevitable for them to drown.  I wish drowning under the hypocrisy of our race was never an option.  I just wish we were allowed to truly live.