Affliction

The stars tonight
Are impossibly distant
Like pin pricks of alarm.

Even the moon appears
Bleached and sterile.
The universe is lifeless tonight.

But this is affliction.

Jags of apprehension
Weigh upon me.
Through these lenses
Life is not warm
Attractive and seductive.

I have learned measures
Of survival.
I tuck my head
Not looking to the stars
That on other occasions
Charm me
With kind pleasure.

Tonight I bridle my horizons
And bundle
In the familiar.

I quiet myself
Restrain discourse and company.
I content myself
With rudimentary pleasures.
Tender breath
Delights
On nights of burden.

The stars must keep their counsel
And I will keep mine.

There will be better nights
Once I loose my horizons
To gather the light
I now lock tight.

Chalky

The moon rose
Last night
A pale orange
Above fields
Corduroyed
By harvest
The barren
Earth
Then turned under
By plow.

I watched the blemished orb rise
Seemingly smaller
And chalky
As it slowly climbed
For altitude.

Leaning against cold brick
I thought how I’d become
More distant
Chalky
In her memory.

I swallowed a pain pill
Waiting for its warmth
And artificial sense
Of well-being
To settle me
Center me
In the moment I was in
Giving my pain
To the night.

Before long
All the time
I was with her
Grew increasingly remote
Chalky
And I began to see my life
As fields, harvested
Turned by the plow
Waiting for a season
Of planting
When winter is done.

There Comes a Time

There comes a time
When the memory of a love
Is no longer as strong
Or alluring.

A time
When the color
Of a lover’s eyes
Fade in their gleam.

A time
When a lover’s hair
Is neither as fragrant
Or shimmering.

A time
When a lover’s kiss
Is no longer remembered
For its fire and sizzle.

A time
When a lover’s body
Is no longer remembered
For its mysteries and pleasures.

But when that may happen
My dear, I cannot know.
Because time has failed to dilute
The memory of you.

A Bright Dawn

Were the past something
I could sever
Or remove
As a threadbare coat
I would.

But the past is never past.
Indeed
The past is ever present.

I remain attached
To the most painful
The most toxic part
Of my inner being.

So I war with myself
Trying always
And fervently
To not be known
For my most ignoble
Moment.

I bear my guilt
Like a corpse
Lashed to my back.

I speak grandly
Of fidelity
Integrity
Loyalty
But my old man within
Bears testimony
Against me.

Oh, were I able
To distance myself
From myself
I would think this life
Gracious and kind.
But I stand a prisoner
In a universe of prisoners
All talking nobly of freedom
No one
Ever
Having been
Free.

Yet
There may be hope
For the leery and the weary
On a bright dawn
Of a new day
When the truth
Shall set us free.