“Walking in Gray”
Everything around me is dead.
The land is flat and gray.
The sky is overcast and dark.
My feelings?
I feel nothing.
My nerves do not register
the impact of my feet
on the ground.
I am floating, flying,
in this world of silence.
I think of nothing
I say nothing
for I am the nothing.
Sometimes I reach up
for no reason at all
other than to get higher
than I already am.
To find
a greater level
a new perspective.
Yet all I can see from higher up
is that the gray stretches on
for miles and miles.
Gray pastures, with dead grass.
No color. No trees. No animals.
No mountains in the distance.
No sun in the sky.
Only clouds, and gray.
Always gray.
It is somewhat bleak
walking alone through the gray.
But I like it…
it comforts me
to walk in the gray
as a nothing.
Maybe someday if I keep walking
I’ll find a different gray.
Or maybe a black.
Maybe I’ll become a something.
But for now
I am a nothing
walking in gray.
“Riptide”
The moon and the ocean
are not equal partners.
The moon is distant, cold,
It flies and floats
Rises and falls
In a perfect pattern
That hasn’t
Stopped
In all the time it has
Been.
It resides in darkness
But outshines the stars.
It is tainted by
Moonboot tattoos.
The ocean is deep, cold,
Secretive and foreboding –
Easily manipulated,
Easily tossed
Into disarray.
No pattern
or
Rhythm.
It swallows souls,
And houses dark creatures.
It is tainted by
Plastic jewelry.
Both the moon and the ocean
Hold individual beauties
The moon glows softly
And provides company
To the lonely, late at night.
The ocean holds closely
Every shade of blue you know
It’s life can be bright and teeming.
But in a dance between
Moon
And
Ocean
The moon will always lead
It pushes and pulls the tides
Into the shapes it likes
It can stir up anger
From deep trenches and
Long-settled sands.
The ocean fights back,
Sometimes,
But the moon is too far.
To be reprimanded
By such a being
Who holds such rigid
Invisible power
Is to consent to the loss
Of one’s sanity.
