POETRY ON MEDIUM
Moon Side
I wake up with dread
On a morning so bright
A new one that will fade
Into the husk as one day before.
I run across the field
The same one again
Hoping to find a weed
That yields the magic leaves.
I eat the yellow fruit
It smells sweet and tastes sour
Leaks fresh blood that then
And still irrigates my garden.
The blood I see in dreams every night
A dream full of roses
Each one with thorns
That gives me fragrant home.
I wonder whose thorns prick
Whose blood I taste again tomorrow
Did they cry out aloud
Or sit still with a horrid heart.
I look out my window
And see past the midnight moon
So pretty, so rad
So alone yet never sad.
I dream again under mellow shade
Of the crusty-cross that follows the light
Crusty-cross that never frights.
I glare deep down at the jovial lake
Beneath the lake, I see my eyes
That’s way too far to hear the hound
If I were to reach it I’d drown.
I should drown if only to sleep
Forever to dream of infinite sky
Sky beyond the farthest fence
Where berries are brown and taste like beets.
I dream of that alien planet
That offers a life of hope and sorrow
A life out of golden walls
The life of neither rose nor thorn.
I wake again to sounds of rain
Drops that drenched all valued silver
I wonder how long till it floods the castle
So I swim out along the unsaid tale.
When the bars of the cage break at last
And I see the moon for as it is
Not that shone through my filtered window
But with lots and lots of pity patches.
I wonder why I long to see filthy patches
That lay amidst the glimmering surface
When it comes like a snapping band
Filthy patches are what form its face.
I zoom into the glittering dots
And see no more but lies and cons
Every glitter was indeed gold
But it existed for birds to cage.
Was I a bird, one of many?
Maybe I was, with a window to soothe
A garden to walk in and a bed of purple petals
But I saw the velvet side of the wall
When so many saw metal.
