These Words That Leave Me: Poetry Collection

     St. Lucifer & Me

A curse was cast upon me. 

After I made a deal with the

Devil, to always be his

Advocate. If he could spare 

Me from the wrath 

Of God. I said, 

If He will not have me,

Then no one shall. I will carry

Your words St. Lucifer, as 

You’ve put barbs upon my tongue

And ice to my touch.

Don’t tell me it is beautiful outside,

I’ll just say it will only rain
Tomorrow. And Tomorrow 

There will be a man who has 
to kill another man.

And I’ll have to walk out into

The rain of tomorrow’s storm

And once more be an advocate

for the wrong. 

I’ll set myself against you

Like the down pour and the 

Gail of the West Wind. I’ll build

Up my defences against every

Thought you thought could

Be true. And worst of all; I’ll 

Tell you there is no God. 

And I’ll have my just reward

For the price I pay to walk

Hand in hand with St. Lucifer.

Cursed always to take up his plea. 

                                                               June 2nd/2011

     The Confused

Why do I bother fighting

My Hallucinations? Why do I

Play into their feeble

Games? Is there something

To this imagined order?

A string attached to some 

Benevolent hand? The same hand

That casts the lightning down

Around me. And builds the shelter

Which I take sweet refuge in?

Like a house built up of words and mortar 

That will make walls that never fall.

I see through the fog that bars 

The doorway to the house there in the mist,

And lay my hand upon the one

That spins the world round on its

Axis. Should we still fight these 

Hallucinations, if they are all we’ve 

Ever known? I can’t seem to find that

Blueprint, that thing to help me set 

Right whats been planned and 

What we’ve let things become. 

                                                 June. 2nd/2011

     When the Tallest Man Walks the Earth

I heard the thunder and watched them catch

A lightning strike in a jar just to see it die.

Yet still this was no crime compared

To the greatest heist; to steal tomorrow's
Borrowed day.

And rumor has it I wasn’t born 

I just walked out one stormy morn

In a vision of a vacant memory.

And I will not rest in a cemetery

From the day we live you know 

We will have to burn.

In a ring of fire at my funeral, 

I’ll play the poetic matador and

Provoke my bull with words.  

                                                        June. 2nd/2011


With all due respect and credit to the Tallest Man on Earth

     The Leaving Lover and The Looking Fool

In the place where I stash my

Memories, my soul will not let me

Forget the things that have loved and

Left. To place this aching in the 

House of the soul and carry on

With forgotten memories seems too 
Cruel a fate for things left and loved.

The Leaving Lover would say. 

There stood the looking fool, staring

Like a blank slate down the road 

He’ll never travel on. 

Hand clutched upon the gate. 

He said, “Oh why am I

Not strong, like the path 

for which I long. Upon its back 

A thousand boot heels have tread.

And upon its road side so many

Men have been laid down dead.

Oh dear lord, why am I not strong?

Like that traveling man who

Forged the good ol’ trail. 

I’ll never know, and never share his

Tale. Less I leave this place,

And quit looking like the fool.

Release the gate and walk the path

And be strong like the soul in my bones.

                                                                         June. 2nd/2011