Empty valleys

 I sweat here
Eyes give away intention
I'm nude you've seen through
Helped me understand my error

A broken machine
Generating awkward answers
Misguiding all
Hugging false need

You saw it in these guilty eyes
Did you see the beautiful valley in me
That huge abyss that lovely emptiness
Plateu of total emptiness

I swear here is where I get off
Ashamed i'll walk the rest of the way
Trying to prove lies about who I could be
Falseness rises out of my steps

I go nowhere
footprints disappear
Road dust promises nothing
Am I a broken vehicle?

No reprieve and no forgiveness
Just repeated reminders
of what a hollow creature I am
slithering into next month 

Routine and fantasy
But deaf to my Godness
driven by the lack from the past
Just a worthless empty valley

Forgive me 
I have fallen deep into lies
Forgive me
I have fantasized illusions

A broken machine.
This pain hits my face
with a familiar impact
We repeat ourselves

Like a broken machine
But christ can you tell me is this really me?
I beg and err until there is nothing
even the tear has evapourated

Plans for a new corral

 Canadian farm
overcrowded by pine
Summer insects
Long days and optimism

The designs for a stockyard
contain the euphoria
Lines painted on ground
Patient homestead

Sun turns morning over
land glistens
Just a design
To contain you

Cattle for the grill
Another decade of protein

Royal honey and the herd

 I dipped the tiny spoon in
I took out the sticky liquid
Put it on my tongue
taste the sourness

Royal honey they call it
Making common people special
They overspend for this ccol con
Tell themselves it's unique

These tubs of royal honey
validating thousands of triers
aspirants and strivers
Excited to empty wallets

They'll not delve into the science
They'll leap into the next fad
shredding the parachute
as they leave the cliff in droves

He dreamed of death

 He dreamed of death.
Great distances death walked. 
No interpretation!
He would wake, simply remember.

We living cut through reality.
Little razor blades if you will.
Proud to be sharp until we aren't.
Obligated by gerunds working and cooking...

Answering meaningless messages!
Holding feelings back.
Repressing excitement.
Until it all disappears.

Sun shines purgatory part 3

 The shed is plain!
It is yellow and hollow.
Yellow fades more slowly than hope.

Handprints on old cracked concrete.
To signify ghosts live inside.
My brave father indeed.

The railway runs on through.
Beside not toward nor away.
T'is neither fate nor afterlife, it just is.

They stand where men stood.
Ghosts of men occupy, lost identities.
Quite stationary yet obsessed with direction.

Still as if to ponder but no thought emits.
Just snail pace withheld emotion.
Banked energy unspent in living.

Sun Shines Purgatory part 2.

 The Railway iself led nowhere.
But the yellow shed was adjacent to a small town.
Always movement there, illusions of that old earth.

Grandad sat down with his son Phillip
The crates didn't creak.
Smiles were intended but didn't form.

They began counting nothing together.
Sharing that same space for long warm eternities.
The peeling paint whispered rumours of life.

The eyes of my dream were welcome to visit.
But not allowed to stay.

Sun shines purgatory part 1.

 The shed was originally painted yellow.
There it sat next to rusted train tracks.
The color of pollen now.

People stood inside.
People once alive and obsessed with movement.
Now they stand like mannequins.

Avoiding eyecontact.
Begging their ears to simulate the sound of a train.
But no boards tremble, no horns hoot.

He did not look at me.
He didn't look at his own father either.
Was I to join them too, the clumsy faithless.