On Marta

Yourself Null

"Just be yourself," they say. I tried that, to just be me, but you know what?

Me is a wreck.

Me is a mess.

I am everything you don't want.

I am your dread.

I am the end.

I am death.

"Just be yourself," they say. "Just be yourself."

Fortune on the Floor

And oh what a thought she was!

Over the bedroom door sat flies like gargoyles guarding, warning of the fragmented goblin inside. Monday/Tuesday's Bourbon Midnight threw itself onto my bed during sleep, unremembered but left with a wet sickening sweet that only teased the hungover Tuesday to throw-throw some more. Wednesday saw the bottleless fight to keep the burn away; it was a burn with drink I thought would keep the rue at bay. Thursday night I lurched picking up a scrap piece of paper in front of my bedroom door. It said: Simplicity of character is the natural result of profound thought. It was an uncookied fortune scattered random on the floor. To these words was the reaction, "I must not think profoundly because I am no simple man." There are many thoughts, yes. But they are not a meditation, a sanctuary with altars of promised peace, no, they are the arena masses of thoughts that cheer, jeer and chant raging to be heard by one.

But I can't hear anyone. It's just noise - one overwhelming RAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

I must be a broken man.

I've lost the profound thought that which kept me simple, functioning, joyous.

And to My Left Stands No One

And to my left stands no one

No one to call my own

As others stand embracing one another

Am left standing all alone

And with no embrace, I am left empty

No heart to give to who

To whom who never stood by me

This heart I hold with doom

And to my left stands no one

No heart she'll ever care to own

She stands embracing another

My heart left all alone

And with this heart I tremble

I stand in dread of who

I, fool who stands with heart in hand

Alone, never a groom

The Figment Sun

I sleep thinking of the sun

Only to wake

still thinking of the sun

And no hour ticks

without a thought of the sun

The sun who kept me whole

Curtain drawn and this door closed

I thought the sun

I'd see no more

But such a gem, a charm is the sun

She shines through curtain,

knocks through door closed

Such is my curse to have seen the sun

This sun who kept me whole

Who by smile, by shine

by being just her, oh sweet delight!

Took time to share

her shine with me

Took time to give me

a smile

Where is this sun

who brought the fine day to me?

She shines still (I think)

Though no longer here