The distant businessman in summer born
Forged in iron, dressed in human form
Vendor of miracles, heart full of lies
Found in the wilds, dark lord of the flies
Danger seen knows where to hide
Trusting wasted wits, worn out
When there’s only black and white
Driving birds of joy away
Spending all the brightness of the day
On sighing care´s dismay
Sleeping with the birds of prey
Comforting them until they weep
While leaning on another’s sorrow
Until the rising shadows of tomorrow
Purusing the lonely pastures of the dead
Where neither fools nor angels care to tread
Barbed wire fences rip clean best of pants
To be taken, pale pawns lie in waiting
Commandeering underpants
Of those he sees are vacant
Investing in friendship
As if a wise man´s web
Misleading integrity into a safety net
Selling dreams forgotten to even his surprise
Along the crooked road without improvement
Where even genius is led to believe a lie
And lift up its head
Instead of looking death squarely in the eye
¨Every comfort can be mine¨ he evidently said
¨Only the dead can tell who won’t confide
All I must do is break down and cry
Put myself down for awhile then hitch another ride¨

Dissension brothers gallant and cruel
Knowing themselves as nobody´s fools
Born into a colony of lepers
Where they don’t serve home cooked food
And loving yourself is considered to be rude
Brought up on persecution, bound to Damascus
Releasing snakes regularly, raised inside their fists
Until rising up knowing sleep innocent is but a toy
Renowned in grace by the living dead
Kissing joy, their sorrow denied
Washing hands of the earth they comply
Staring into the sun, waving their guns
Laughing through the valley into the red
Where eternity was bound to be destroyed
Confronting their orphan standing proud
Yonder in the lonely crowd
Fighting for survival in the marketplace
Through rising smoke, won´t shake their hands
Bids farewell, taking only what was left to him
Leaving them to fix their heads
Hiding in the shadows, rearranging faces
Like drinking water in wild places
In top hat and silver tails
The brothers grimm already dressed
Prepared for asassination, unyielding now
The able shepherd seems to have failed
Straying north by northwest, destined to be felled
On the road partitioned ‘tween heaven and hell
¨Every comfort could’ve been mine¨ he cried
¨All I ever wanted was to be on your side
¨Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Why must you forsake me this time?¨



Kingston Heights, New Zealand

  • Artist


poem poetry

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