Risk Factor Post 77

Risk Factor 8/12/2011

My steel wheels
All left the surface
As we hit
The bump in the road
Hurtling through space
And into oblivion.

Suspended in the air
Just for a fraction of time
Captured in a crystal
Inside of my skull.

One moment
Among many
Remnants of a past
And a world
Both shaken and lost.

Through the shattered glass
I see what is left
The remains of my youth
And the names of the past.

I have not forgotten
What it felt like
When I had green hair
And ripped up all my clothes.

I felt so alive
That I thought I knew
And that nothing could ever hurt me
Just as immortal
As any ever were.

But I also remember
The blood pouring out of their mouth
And the sound of breathing
Of the loved
And the dying.

But for the smallest of chances
I could be there instead of here
Just another memory
And just another dream.

Now it is over
And a great gulf
Separates me from them
Both the living and the dead.

But I am here
And I write down their dreams
Those that cannot speak
And those left behind.

On the other side
Life will be perfect
We will be together
All wounds healed
And laughing.

We will break bread
And we will break bottles
Throwing our heads back
Full of life
And full of fire.



Just like November 812/2011

Each word
Diminishes the last
And each breath
Oxygenates the blood
A future vision of things to come
A first a trickle
And then a flood.

A cold normalcy
And an indifferent politeness
Greets another day
Totally devoid of real compassion
For the good or the strong.

The buildings rise up
Like sterile symbols
Of corporate blandness
Passionless and remote.

I sat down at my desk
And never have I felt
As alone
Or as forgotten.

I put our picture away
In the bottom of the drawer
But the feeling remains
The ghost of my family
Haunting every silence.

I have disappeared
Like I never lived
And like I never mattered at all
Fading fast into nothing
An invisible man
Unheard and forgotten.

I see and I hear
And I know
Nothing more absurd and cruel
Than man’s indifference.

I work but have nothing
Not a thing left
That I can say is mine
And not a thing left for dreams
Or for love.

Others have lived
And others have suffered
But I never knew
And I never understood
Not until I had felt
The piercing pain
Straight through me.

My love is incomplete
And I am nothing but a footnote
Intentionally omitted
And cruelly reminded.

They have given up a treasure
And traded it for nothing
A pearl of wisdom
For a fake and a fraud.

And there is no trace left of them
For they have become
What others want
Once again without ever expressing
Who they really are
Or ever wanted to be.

I could write about happy times
But now they are
Long forgotten
And I wonder about how they live
And how they can smile.

We wait and we wait
But nothing ever truly changes
Except for rearranging the words
Or the labels
Just to prove we are here
And that we ever lived.

No one wants to rock the boat
And the wrath of stupid men
Matters more than fairness
And more than honor.

I left my work
And I drove up to the house
But it was just the same
Nothing left to chance
And always on purpose.

But they will not escape
The black wing of death
Passing silently over my head
On the way.

If not now
Then later
But not too much
And not too far.

Both night and day
The iron angel comes
And he will destroy
And it will be good.

He can run
Because that is what he does
But he will not escape
And he will not survive.

Nothing can stop him
And nothing can control him
Uncontainable
And unthinkable.

No amount of deception
Shall buy a minute more
And no amount of lies
Shall slow or distract him.

The iron angel is full of passion
And the iron angel is hot with rage
Coming home to claim his own
And coming back to destroy.

I am not afraid
And I have not run
But I know who has
And I know why.

I can taste the blood
And I can feel the iron
Surging in the veins
And heightening my senses.

No amount of screaming
And no amount of lies
Can change the inevitable end
Nothing half as certain
As the crush and the hand.