The Birth of Eddy Styx

Now: When night falls, the surrounding hills embrace the remains of the setting sun, opening into scattered canyons in the sky.

Somewhere between twilight and dusk is where I find a painted odyssey and the restoration of the ruined dreams lost in childhood's transition to maturity.

Then: But a woman child of thirteen, you raped and took my innocence - a trusted family member, you.

I remember the car in which you would drive me home after babysitting your innocent young children.

Summer rain trickles tears of boredom
Until Mrs Mop the puppet comes out to play
Peek-a-boo! Hiccup! Slosh
Changing the mood to waves of laughter.

Sorry guy's completely changed it! Lol

god didn't make gardens
for us
to murder flowers
strange we can do it
without the sight of blood

without you
i can breathe
without me
you can pray

for indistinct faith
and impossible stories that
make men

a woman's experiment

I am the silent observer
the mute intruder.
Trespassing upon conversations,
glimpsing expressions, glancing stare.

A fleeting mood,
lasting first impressions intrude.
Opportunistic eye catcher,
no words a silent smile, capturing you.

Transient, bypassing in-depth inspection
Skimming the surface, scanning your psyche,
nothing but a brief interlude.
Minimal interaction, self preservation, I conclude,

We were introduced, "unlikilly-like"
if we were to agree that that's a word,
her demeanor seemed so serious that
it called for the absurd.

So, I began to re-scramble words
and string them crazily on a strand,
and offered to clasp them 'round her neck
in hopes she'd understand.

Her aura was simplistical mystical
her eyes captured each scene,
then, she portrayed a knowledge worthy
the wisdom of a queen.

I am leaves that fall
withering in the earths soil
Spring, a new cycle.

i wonder if memory
finds a way to say thank you
when leaving cities
romantically inclined to
the summation of a smile
when he was tousled,
unkempt and his skin
felt like the gravel beach
we walked at evening
when he tried to explain
how the cosmos was heaven
and he had claims for entry
because he said prayers
quietly alone

Songbird cool in hands,
killed by sudden cold night, while
others sing at dawn.

can I define
the moment
when words
found a voice

I think not,
for neither
am I Neruda
or Bukowski

but there has always
been the need to
feed on knowledge,
appease a muse

now life flows
ink and script
undefined by form

to
free fall
in motion
upon pages

"Without Question" (Lyrics)
by Ty Drescher

Don't get me wrong,
I believe you when you look me in the eyes
Got me thinking,
everything's gonna be alright
but in the back of my mind
I remember the things they've said,
tried telling myself
they're just trying to get in my head