Here comes the moment:all things said must be done,
Set the legacy raising the banner of valour,
Raise the flag walking on coals of fire
Burning desire, passion, blazing, flaming, shameless
Dare to leap, time to soar awakens,
What's there to gain when here owns nothing,
Raise the flag

my sister who dates Freddy Krueger
is safe 'cause she carries a Luger
it's a balance (of sorts)
-as he messes his shorts
when she points it and makes him eat boogers

A child daydreaming with a solemn face
As they stare off into open space
Lost in thought and far away
Eyes glistening, yet they won't say

What are they thinking, why so blue?
What story are they imagining too?
Are they dreaming of a place they'd go
Where they could be free and they'd know

That no matter what they'd be safe
The worries and fears of today erased
A place where they don't have to hide
Where they can be loved and full of pride

This phantom I’ve become
Starved for incessant connection
Unable to express this need
Permanently disconnected from myself

Peace and joy are emotionally expensive
I find myself at the toll booth of happiness
With little currency and less resolve
I’m given to choose the road of pain

It’s not that I’m entirely joyless
I suffer from intense bouts of happiness
I find no muse in this space, no inspiration
I can manifest no art if I’m satisfied

A spirited hue
ambles its way onto
resting leaves,

a spark of gold -
ornate and splendid,
a splash of red -
blushed with fever.

The foliage flaunts its
fading green with laughter,
its finery boldly basking
against the early autumn sky.

I pause to watch the sun
make its way ever west
as the trees chant a eulogy,
their long shadows holding
onto the waning grasses

much like that last breath of
summer held onto me -
sweet and benevolent,
drinking in the cooling air

The pyromaniac within yours truly
beckons sacrificial ritual
mine burning (man's)
sacred plastic bags
of rubbish (comprised of: hairs combed,
ditto trimmed from dead head,
filthy lucre - ha, phlegm
wrapped in tissue paper,
snips and snails,
and puppy dogs' tails),
awaiting flame thence said materials
reincarnated into sooty ash

The sign still bids me welcome
The populations still quite small,
Just one more mile before I know
If I'll recognize this place at all.

What I see before me now
Is not the town I longed to see,
Most businesses with shutters
They cut down that big oak tree.

The city square and band shell
The big clock that told the time,
Now lost and gone forever
From this old home town of mine.

I'm going on a date with Freddy Krueger
Dreams have never been so scary
I'm not sure what to expect
But I know it won't be merry

A visit to Freddy's boiler room
A night so full of dread
I'm sure there's no escaping
Whatever he has in his head

He'll take me on a twisted journey
Through a world of morbid dreams
The things I'll see, I can't imagine
It's much more than it seems

I’m worried about the ashes now,
as I try and make my peace
with dispersing what is left behind.

How will I know which ashes
listened to my troubles?
Which were part of her smile?

All I can really be certain of
is love will cast who she was
over the welcoming sea,
along the North Coast,
where she would want to be.

The year of the locust yells loudly
Throwing time into grief,
Dancing nightmares, beclouding rickety,
It's the era of torture, where nothing alive weakens,
Mercies fallen into cracked holes, drowning in the sea of misery,
Close the lines, aye, strengthen the fortress,
The times are fast upon us, choking our reign,
It's the year of havoc, that year of the locust.