An earfull

Curl the hand at the ear
Lean in with that trumpet piece
Words clamor out
Goblins if anything

Sewed up those listening holes
And stretched those speaking mechanisms
Sentences cling together desperate in tone and speed
Like fresh refugees accumulating in the air

Thing about refugees is only the sympathetic will accept them
Sympathetic ears are rare these days
Your pleas can tumble out of you
Goblins out of a barrel

No hiding place on the side of my head
No cave for hungry words
Warts of language, greasy and speculative
Good luck finding a landfill big enough

Riding on a mouth like that
Tire lips wheel and motor mouth runs
Fat chance there'll be ears for your whining and singing
No gas station pumping, just silence if anything

To dime and dine

Romance needs that grease
Love wants a home
surrender demands that sacrifice
The juice beneath that foam

Destinations are craved by even the most wayward girls
Curiosities traded for stabilities
Bright adventures traded for the heavy shade of routine
A perch for us, we the mimicking parrots

What is a man these days without a dime to dine
Without an asset to boast of?
He is not a wave headed to shore
But the little lapping of a lake against it's margin

To die a death

Do you have the patience to walk away from life
Aye?
The patience to die?
To fill the ground like roots slowly do

Do you grow down at the thought
No patience to let go, full of pseudo definitions about life
The pride in your bones keeping you together
Prophets walk away from your angry chanting

Philosophy on life barely more than a popular slogan
Why don't you drop your cancer for a moment to farewell a world of wonder
Take the axe and level that ugly pride of yours
have the patience to die and a faith to thank life

As the prophets walk away
No not men of the cloth or power, real prophets
Who knew your life and offered your heart a haven
A true peace of mind in storms of conscience and guilt

men and women who offered you solace as you pretended to be invincible
The first you spat on after you had healed
Blistering pride only makes you less when you've
Patience to go, to die a death

Inside denial

Denial the soft skin
Refusal of true feeling
Correcting others is no armour
Denial is the outbreak of want

Hair, tattoos and tricks of the trade under a grin
Boast syrup slipping down
Heating lips up to exaggerate
Sheen soft pink surface parched by the lie

Lips like locusts hungry and beating their wings
All you ever wanted was love, why lie about that?

Horse luck

Sleep over this earth so hollow
Near that river so shallow
This time gallop in dreams of the future
Spirit not borrowed, horse harrowed

Triumph swivel
Old dreams dry, new ones moisten
Spirit one of vital purpose
The great article in error, knowing one's flaws

Force
Rider and horse
Carried into tomorrow by verse
tearing holes in the present let that lucky light in

Posterity school outlaws free thought

Outrage breaks into a school
Crashing like a rampage rumors and here-say fueled
Elderly teachers run for cover
Barely more than products of their day

Students in their masses conspire and assemble
Fingers point and frowns flare dorm room doors are left splayed
The faculty, merely hairy politicians exit
Ideas beyond the books are traded like black market goods

The young cling to the sides of eroding hills under lost umbrellas
Under the old ruins of the last age

Between the centuries

Luxury high in wigs and chandelliers
Wooden floors near noble Lake shores
No labour or wages to earn
Smiles of glee for the nobles faces, to the plebe hard and stern

They hardly had to snob behind their gargoyled brickwalls
great theatres that peasants payed for with their work and taxes
Basements full of bright lights and half the village's servants
Entertainment for the lords and ladies brave spirits as cold as the gargoyles

On the high wall a young man met death
His noble approach was laughed out of his body by death
the young man thought it was simply the numbing cold
As death shook his hand and snow fell

The boy changed after he touched death
Instead of dying he could travel
Not just roaming the land but traveling through time as he went
Perhaps the scariest thing he saw was how death transformed things

Death transformed people
The boy saw how a living man would not resemble his spirit at all
As death and the mirror death carried would show
Sometimes our spirits are beautiful and sometimes they are ugly

Yet the spirit looks nothing like the body
And  death claimed that this world is nothing more than an old wardrobe