Hadal
Poems for vacations to the Deep
Hadal
All that is worth desiring lies
On the far side of the Bridge of Fear
New York Man lied when he said
We have nothing to fear but fear itself
There are things that go bump in the night
The Others wait, in the inky black below
The Bridge
With outstretched hands
And upturned mouths
Waiting
To fill their hollow bellies
With hapless souls who fall
Take care, young Pilgrim
For to fall is to disappear from
The mind of Man
Anesthetik
As I lie here on the table
Preparing to go under the knife
I think of the swinging blade
And the pit of darkness to come
“Count backwards”
Doc says.
He smirks a wolfish grin
Beneath his mask
“He won’t get far” he thinks
“Susan and I have a bet, if he makes it past 93
I’ve got to buy lunch.”
I see that smirk
and breathe the sickish sweet delight
Of oblivion gas
I glare at him
Through heavy lidded eyes
“You’re buying lunch for Susan, motherfucker.
100, 99, 9 8, 9 7, 9 6, 9 5……………………………………………………………………………………………………fuck.
It’s Tuesday.”
Timefall
We live our lives by clocklight
The second hand
A metronome
Counting down
The rhythm of our demise
God kills us in our cradle
Lest we learn too much about him
Our eyes still blue
And full of wonder
Barely sense is made
Before off we shuffle
Coil fading in the rearview
Mortal and all too fragile
For this weary world
Brine
Sometimes I lack the will
To even cry
The flashes of pain
A welcome reprieve
A small sign of life
In this sea of endless grey
To will is to live
To run from or towards
It matters not
So long as I run
And run
And run
Til eyes sting and lungs burn and water drips down
Down the long winding way to the ground
Sweat or tears
Form salty seas below
To never ever mind
The clouds overhead
“Land ho!”
The weary bos’n cries
The NeverEver Land
Of we the eternally old.