Poem Shards

  
Dead Man
  You are a dead Man
    Dead like the wind that burried those
       miles long railings in sand
          along the side of the highway

    Dead like the false opposites
        that get analyated in 
           the misconception of your
             "getting along"
           with your false ideas
             about people around you
         and you come to accept the truths
             you've learned as real.

     Dead like the wind on the lake
      with the lightening
           before the rain
         near the shore
             of your despairation
                frustration
                destroyed
        with a suddenness
           of a pop-up dream
         that you really wanted
     But it was locke into the burned beach
      melted glass of an idea
    about love and respect
   for another
   who had before sent you away
      but now you are back with him.

  Dead and lieing within
    the roadsides, hedgerows 
         and waste places
   along the rusting chain link fences
    of the spitting rain
    at dawn
    hung over
       and lieing on top of
         the oversized weeds -
      giant parsnips and
        cabbages of bad idea --
   illconcieved in it's leaf broken
                        stench
     like the swamp gas
         rising along
           with moon setting on the 
                     far horizon --
  The city dead like the light that
     breaks on the tall side of a building
     golden in the morning of the
        first day dead . . .
          rising up
       from the misted meadows
        as the cliff-faces
     on the highway
     that cover over
   the dead window
     into a dead past
    long gone
   forgotten
    over the heart
      of my mind
     we went to see 
      where it had fallen
     and gazed upon your 
        silent screams --
   Calling for the heart ache
        that broke
   like a wave upon the side
     of your ego.
  Broken like statues 
      blown up
      by despotic fanatics
    Destroyed
     with sudden terror
         of broken self
   But
     like so many ceramic animals
      crushed
    in the minor key 
        of a heartbreak
            going along ---

  like the carcus of a cankered seal
    on the festering shore
     of your made up fantasy future - - not true - -
   like the oil spill along the 80 miles of your
     "what used to be"
  Pristine shore
     "what might have been"
    " what could have awoken"
            from its illconceived
                self loathing
     Beating its broken angel wings
       like a tiny hummingbird
    winging along the carcus
              of a fallen-rotton 
                  succullent.
       near the corpse of a cayote
      killed by the fall through the 
        ice of your bad dreams ---

   Dead
     Dead like frozen swirlling frost
      on the shattered window
      of your abandoned jalopy 
         of a bad memory
     of a bad wekkend on
        bad acid
           in a cold place
           Alone and Broken down
     With demons banging on the windshield
     of your window modling
   swirilling along
      in he sound of the color
   of your heart breaking down
  upon its broken heart stone
 that it left to die ---

     It goes back.
          it reaches into the bag of stars.
   It sprinkles them above the
      horizon of your new world --
  It places the waters upon the depths --
  It removes the eternals
    no longer needed
   just an art project
    at the sacred 
       hilltop
    of your place to die
    where you refer
     the Dead Men
  Broken like ice
          shattered onto the sudden flood
   of your waking up
     from a dead sleep
  where the light
     Breaks upon the wall
       of your everyday --
  And all the love you ever had
   is living still
        in dead silence
  Breaking along the Mountains of
                     horizons of your
               dead reckoning --
         a dead calm
        awakens

   deadman
     

 July 6, 2010