When I Drink

scotch

When I drink

faded images appear,

silent, moving, attractive

filtered visions.

When I drink

that settled need,

gnawing reality

quiet departs

leaving little love.

When I drink,

you certainly cannot

know me the way,

I know I’m sick.

When I drink,

the fog I seek

envelops my soul,

blurs drawn energy

settles incessant.

When I drink

I will destroy

all that I love,

all that we believe

that new image of me.

When I drink,

I’ll falter often,

while asking solace,

you’ll hate me again.

When I drink … I will die

When the Shutters Close

shutters

 

We live in normal houses

in Midwestern America

we are a concentrated, suburban, legacy

long after we are gone

our worlds will be memory.

Lives have been led

along facades, frames, fades.

We need to recognize

in a word, life isn’t what it seems.

When I look at you across the avenue

I debate about what will happen

when the shutters close.

Same old story perhaps;

what if someone wondered?

How about the truth

that every night

when frustration mounts

you punch your daughter

for your own misgivings!

I noticed the other afternoon

tending your garden

she wore long sleeves in the humidity

such a sweet young smile

hides the pain that well, yeah,

when the shutters close, rage creates.

This morning in class

her monologue brought tears to my eyes

I questioned how such a beautiful woman

survived only menacing glares all night long.

And then her eyes glanced the room

she smiled a lovely elegant manner,

she talked of her mom and how she misses her.

A weep dropped a tear from her eye

that without words anymore

spoke aloud:

I am a survivor.

Capital Punishment

Wait …

I’m not ready

he’s not ready

she’s not ready

not worthy

not right

not exactly operating on all cylinders

When we decide

upon the finality

of death, are we

I mean is it our goal

would we, could we,

do we really want to have that

burden in our mind?

Every day, we may

fight the reality of

a maligned state of mind

while the world ticks on

this creature has torn apart

the fabric of our world,

yet

how can we allow society …

Pass judgment on me,

tell me what I did wrong

for ever and ever and again forever.

The news suggest

premeditated murder.

Well they got that right,

and now

the menace rides deeper into hell

living hell

with bars and soap

and a new society,

yet,

perhaps that is justice.

Death by association not by the needle.