how do I find ways to get lower
going
down
down
down
on the daisy chain game
of chutes and ladders
my number should be up
in the air among the clouds
yeah, way up where
god plays golf on the weekends
and when I get there
I’m sure he’ll let me play through
[b]Over and done with[/b]
blaze of fire
splash of water
fired bullet
over
husband and wife
a love forever
a daughter beloved
over
an old girlfriend
a mad coworker
a raving lunatic over
over
blaze of fire
splash of water
fired bullet
over
burn out
dry up
jam
over
blaze your fire
splash some water
pull the trigger
dead
[b]Tired[/b]
I’m tired of waking up
to the same old sun,
beautiful as it may be
I’m tired of going
to the same job,
no matter how much
money I’m making
Tired of the same
house, the same
neighbors and locals
Sweetie, I’m even
tired of you
Bang! Dead
[b]All Baptized With Sin[/b]
he watched the
blood drip slowly
slowly down the wall
stunned he walked quicker
quicker down the hall
the old dead man said
said hey y’all
he watched the young
young killer fall
the bullet pierced
pierced his flesh the
young one breathed
breathed his last the
old one he stood
stood tall said I love
you son watched
watched as you fall
down the dark pit
pit you call life
saw your blood run
run cold
you became violent
[b]I Once Had A Dream[/b]
I once had a dream of a beautiful place,
A place deep underground.
And in this beautiful, beautiful place,
Rows of graves can be found.
I walk down the tunnel which leads to the graves,
And tears roll down my face.
I stop on a grave, a fresh dug grave,
Then sit on the dirt and cry.
I wonder whose grave I’m crying at,
And open my eyes to see.
I let out a gasp and then a cry,
As I realize the grave is for me.
(c) 2001 Joy Daussin
([email]jdauss1 [at] msn [dot] com[/email])
[i]for maryann…[/i]
i gave my brother’s wife an orange
and bound our souls,
hers and mine.
not a whole orange,
less than half –
all she could bear.
summoned there,
throttled,
loving her so long,
i stood dumb, mute
at her whispered,
“i love you.”
i gave her an orange,
she slept, and
my heart broke.
i gave my
brother’s wife
an orange.
constant sin
cauterizes nerves
essential for
rousing God:
your swaying,
unsanctified, blemished,
unwise, unesteemed,
clinkered dream
can metamorphosize
into morning
golden Paradise.
ask that you dream.
Up! Get up, young man, there’s nothing wrong with you
That I can tell. You’ve no call laying sunken still
Three days dead in the evening heat and morning dew,
The jungle creeping in on you to work it’s green-eyed will.
Him I understand, laying slack against the wall,
No head, no legs, no arms, a bloodless shredded sack.
He grappled with a satchel charge, left nothing else at all.
A tattered scrim of dusky skin informs me he is black.
But you, sir, get you up! There’s naught in you infirm
Save a certain languid pallor and a dusty, dreamy stare
Coupled sorely with a stillness that forebodes the end of term
Of your likely twenty-two that should have never ended there.
Sifting through the wreckage, noting dutifully each
Reason each dead man is dead, what each dead man can teach
Us the living, us the frightened. We who here have yet to die
Garner mute and awful testimony, for we must know why.
Threadbare camouflage and boots, accouterments in place,
No scrape nor bruise nor puncture there to certify your fate.
Lily-colored, silken, waxen, beard ungrown upon your face,
Up, sir, up! You are not broken. Bid you hearken and you state
Why you lie there veiled in tears, ringed by comrades welling grief,
Never touching, never touching, but despairing of relief
From the enigmatic answer to that cryptic question, “Why?
“Why is it that you are chosen, and not he, nor she – nor I?”
