The Suicide Box

The Suicide Box 12/21/2012

Every day is Russian roulette
A suicidal gun watch
And a game of desperation and death
Just for someone else’s pleasure
Equally dumb and dead.

Some try and show their courage
And others palm the last bullet
But the truth is in the chamber
And the end is death.

So much for the wisdom
And the values of the damned
Ending in a symphony
Of cries and explosions.

What would we do
If we arrived at the end
A dead ender without hope
And hunted everywhere.

With nothing to cling to
And nowhere to run
Like a fish with a hook in its mouth
Reeled in and filleted.

So much for the good times
When all options are exhausted
And someone has to pay the price
And spread out on the floor.

The dreamers cannot answer
If you are the one
Except to look the other way
While you gasp for air.

We start out beautiful
But the world beats us down
The way of the things we know
And the result of what we do.

Everything measured and weighed
Merciless and cold
Pigeon holed by circumstances
And crushed by random events.

We run away at full tilt
But always come back for more
Because there is no escape
Without living or dying.

Join me on the watch
Or join me at the end
The same lesson we should have learned
A thousand years before.


Strangers 12/21/2011

It is a strange feeling
To see and to live
To remember the good
And to suppress the bad.

Marking time and passages
From one birthday or another
Neglecting to see
The march of time.

Inevitably we encounter
The extremes of man
The incredible kindness of strangers
And the callousness of the loved.

The strange and random courage
And the all too familiar
Silent complicity
All intermingled
In the tangled mess of life.

We live through our days
And seldom check our emotions
Reacting instead of choosing
And sidestepping into disaster.

If only we knew
And if only we could decide
Seeing the soul of men
All around us.

Today I received kindness
But only God knows tomorrow
But it is not mine to know
But just to love.