2012
I woke this morning …
The sun blood red against the
fading curtain, of another lonely night.
Another empty day to haunt me,
to torment me with the ghosts of
my long lost world.
My sleepy eyes still red
from my long night of weeping.
Who can afford a luxury like sleeping.
My family, dad, mom, sister
and brother too.
All gone …
Victims of the nuclear blast.
Buried them all, one by one,
just beyond that rocky ledge.
My little sister last.
She tried ever so hard,
but the dice for her
was already cast.
Now all is gone, my precious past.
I miss them all so very much.
Only now,
after I have lost them all,
do I realize, that all my growing
pains of the past,
all my years of complaining,
their meaning, their worth,
were oh so insignificant …
now that they are gone forever.
Please come back.
Please forgive me …
Please can I have
another chance?
Too late!
I’m very weak, I don’t know how
long I’ll escape, the mighty grip
of the evil mist of death?
I tried again last night,
to make contact on the Net.
My sweeping software combing
furiously to and from of cyber-space,
for any glimmer of trace,
no matter what the race.
Just to snatch a glance
of another weary, frightened face.
But "NO LUCK" came my laptop’s
fading squeaky voice.
I pause … for a little selfish mope.
My battery almost dead.
And so to all my hope.
Terror forever engraved,
on my grimy grim young face.
My heart hollow like an
empty vase … silent.
I’ll try again tonight.
I feel I have no choice,
I must find another voice.
Surely, surely …
I can’t be the only noise.
But sadly …
The pain of knowing that I am …
the only echo that is left,
to whisper aimlessly in the
cold fatal wind that blows.
Of all six billion amazing voices,
it is mine alone that remains,
to whisper my sad song of futility,
in the vast darkness that now is.
It engulfs me … the silence …
So completely.
I am lonely.
I am kneeling now upon
my golden sandy beach,
arms out stretched to the heavens,
I reach …
I plead …
and I ponder …
How absolutely fucking amazing.
With six billion limitless minds,
and all the wisdom of the universe.
All that we could manage,
despite our final parting drools,
was to prove incontrovertibly,
beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that we, after all is said and done,
are the absolute universal fools.
We couldn’t learn, from what
laid behind our darkened doors.
The lessons of our past.
That a simple act of forgiveness
was all we had to give each other.
Our answer … our salvation.
We had the universe at our mercy,
with a magnificent limitless potential,
to achieve so much and more.
We had a chance, we did,
to save our sorry souls,
to flow down the River of Love …
and out to the Ocean of Abundance,
to find our illusive peace and joy.
But we had to wave our fighting tools.
We just had to shake them day and night,
to prove that we are after all …
the absolute emotional fools.
No brains.
No heart.
No vision.
No love.
Just blind fatal fools,
with our ruthless killing tools.
Yes, that is what we are.
Absolute emotional fools.
And nothing we can do or say,
can buy us one more precious day.
Because it’s far too late …
It’s time for us to pay,
for our silly futile games of hate,
that we just had to run and play.
The Game of Life has closed its door.
And now all that was so good for us,
is now lost to us forever more.
With our countless amazing gene pool,
how ironic that just one should triumph
over all our others,
our sinister evil gene.
Ninety nine percent of our genes,
we share with the chimpanzee …
How that solitary one percent
had taken us to the end of
the universe and back again,
and created such wonderful
and stunning monuments, only
to foolishly tear them all down again,
in a moment of blind madness?
How crazy …
I would gladly trade my one
percent, now that all is lost,
just to be like the chimpanzee,
to live blissfully,
and to just let life be …
But we were too proud to learn
from our friend the knuckle walker,
better to be a smart good talker …
then a mindless free stalker.
Oh The Planet of My Apes …
It is safe here now
on my golden sandy beach.
The cities and land are heavy, with
the Reaper’s stenching odor.
But now, so sadly,
I lay upon my golden sandy beach,
lonely, frightened, drained, defeated.
So weakened … no food for a week,
because nothing is safe to eat,
not even the fruit from the
gently swaying trees
by the old winding creek.
And as this weary, terrified,
nine year old boy …
a young boy, who’s only goal
in life was the latest video toy,
lies dying upon my golden sandy beach.
I scribe this message in the sand,
as the creeping ocean, quietly,
relentlessly, laps at the fingers
of my frail, courageless hand,
holding the picture of my family
frolicking on our borrowed land.
I hope someone gets to read my last
message, from this dying young boy.
I hope that they can read it,
and see the folly of our ways,
of all our fatal military plays.
I hope that they can answer,
the humble question from this
confused, dying lonely young boy …
Humanity, with so much to live,
and so much to give …
why or why so little in the end?
Is this message too late to send?
But now the time has come for thee.
The darkness … so hard to see.
My failing vision is no more,
only the sound of the gentle sea.
But there’s nothing left to write.
No … there’s no white knight,
to help me flee …
I hear the Reaper’s eerie echo,
touting what I know must be …
the final breath for me.
His stinging bite is worse, then
that of a humble bumble bee.
A quiet SPLASH …
as I sink gently forward into the
silent sea … SPLASHHHH
Now as my lifeless, broken,
young body floats gently
out to sea,
with my tearful spirit looking
down on me.
It sees the relentless creeping ocean,
pristine, majestic and enduring,
line by line, lapping at my scribblings,
upon my golden sandy beach.
Water, water, indestructible water!
Why couldn’t we be just like you?
To threaten no one …
and yet to benefit all.
Now only the scratchy title to my
prose, is all that remains on my
golden sandy beach,
as the mighty, satisfied ocean
begins to recede, knowing yet again,
that she has won another trivial skirmish,
over another would-be conqueror.
Another foolish pretender …
who thought he knew it all.
He thought he mastered nature …
but all along, his fatal folly festered,
in his foolish hateful heart.
Hidden from his grubby hands.
And when he least expected,
it would rise up to strike him down.
And it did so magnificently.
He foolishly failed to master himself.
And therefore nature, true to duty,
had to master him.
Water, water everywhere,
as far as my floating spirit’s
eyes could see …
When a beautiful nine year old boy’s
lifeless, weary, beautiful, calm body,
ever so quietly,
ever so gently,
ever so sadly,
ever so disgracefully, and
ever so shamefully,
drifted slowly out to sea …
Once upon a lonely, golden,
sandy beach … my foolish
humanity, silently slipped
away from me … forever