I couldn’t save myself,
I couldn’t even try,
When all suns turned dark
All the waters ran dry.

There were no bird songs,
Or angels on clouds;
Just a press of fury,
In sexual crowds.

I tried hard to dance
To help with the pain,
Of not fitting in,
Of braving the disdain.

I tried many things;
Each different from the past;
I tried saving each,
I tried to make them last.

But, you see, I am jaded,
And I know Hope as a liar,
I know the lampoons of Fate,
I know Ambition’s mire.

I can’t weep anymore:
Age has taken all my tears;
But I wish it had left me one
And taken instead my fears.

I know people are cruel,
For I am people, too,
And Gadgets have not helped,
After Nature laughed and withdrew.

I can’t save myself now,
It is too late to try
And why even bother, I ask,
When it all has to die?



Faith moves mountains,
They say.

Faith moved me
To be a disbeliever.

Don’t get me wrong.
I wish I could kneel
And look up and say,
I know you have my back;
I could say,
Oh, you know best;
There will be something better,
That there is
A larger plan.

But my children died.
And all I asked was for less suffering.
A little lesser than the last.
Until with the last there was nothing left.

I asked when I believed.
Now I know the blankness.
And the silence.

I’ve seen religion and ritual
Twist me into softness:
Into believing there is law,
There will be justice.
There isn’t.
There is silence and sacrifice.

So I choose to turn away
From a fait accompli.

I’m uncertain.
That makes me stronger.
Less kinder.
But if I have given up on
Being kind is an anticlimax.

The Trend.

I watched the waves.
They crashed into the rocks.
A done-to-death metaphor.

I saw the foam stick.
I saw the spray hit the air.
While you slept.
The trend of all lovers.
Once the passion is dead.

The sea will recede.
The rocks at least have faith.
The sea will return.

I walk back home.
To my side of the bed.
Sleepless and faithless.