The Torn Homelessness

I no longer belong.

The home
I left,
the home
I was sojourning to,

now


gone.



I find myself
awakened and alive
in a strange
new place,
strange
new time.

I'm now homeless;
a shambling
old
vagrant
with nowhere
but the road
(Kerouac's)
to lie my head,
to find my peace,
to still my aching heart,
to quiet my broken soul.


The

in between,

life
and
death,
day
and
night,
dream
and
awake,

is where
I've found I am to reside.

For now at least,
enwrap me in the
soft
golden
light
of the dead life.

Burn The Night

Your name
the lightning in my veins.
You
the fire in my lungs.

The silent roar
gives me hope
restores my faith in
what surely must be done.

When I speak,
invariably,
I’ll set myself ablaze;
murdering the night
and all the darkness
it holds dear.

Progeny

This is for the haggard posterity,
the ideas of life yet to come
yet to realize.

Look at the lives we,
this collective ghost,
have lived;
the sins against
generations we've commited,
the lines of the history
books we've omitted.

Learn. Now.

Our mistakes
are not
to be yours.
Tread lightly in the footsteps
of our lies, my youth.