No.

No.

Dirt. Dust.

Smoke-breather swallows the sun,
And casts his image on
The craggy surface of
The ocean floor.
There, in the dark,
Where strange creatures swim
He feasts on the bones
And blubber of corpses
Drifting down.

He is immortal, lifeless, eternal.
He drifts, alone;
An undercurrent of the thoughts
Pull him, bind him
Catch and release him.
Guilt and sin,
Fire and flesh.
The gravity of things
That others cannot
Comprehend.

The broken promises of a God
Who drowned his creation.
Who cursed his children,
And banished them
For being only
What he made them.
Dirt. Dust.
Unwise, and ignorant
Of the earth.
Birth from force;
Woman from Man.

All false. All lies.

He dispairs the death of
A God who has never existed.
Of a purpose for life
That has never existed.
Of the pace of his thoughts
That betray him--
Far too fast for meaning.
One becoming another,
Becoming another.

Home

I am home, homesick and
Sleepless, in the dark.
Thinking of people
Who are no longer themselves.
Living from a photograph--
A memory of something,
That may not have happened;
May not have happened
The way that I remember.

Even faces change,
And I cannot yet grow a beard.
Though, I have not put on weight,
And I have not yet
Started to show my age.
I also, have not had any children
While some have,
And already lost them.
Or, outgrown them.

Time moves and I move with it.
I move there and move away.
I make friends and move away.
Days and years pass,
And I count them.
But in time, have lost track
Of numbers.
So, looking back I start
The counting over.

Looking back,
I remember.
A memory of something,
That may not have happened;
May not have happened
The way that I remember.

Something from Nothing

A noise, a sound, a song--
Awoken from deep sleep
To a sudden silence,
And the ghost of a voice
Echoing, calling, fading.

I remember, but for the dream.
I have been here before,
Alone and in the dark,
With a voice, a ghost;
Something from nothing.

City on the Hill

The lights are out
In the city on the hill.
The silhouttes of
Her homes,
Her towers,
Her chapels,
Stand black against the stars.

And, it is hours yet
Until dawn.