The Killing Field


The children run and play amongst the broken bones.

Roses grow and butterflies fly above our fallen foes.

We cannot escape as much as we turn from the past.
Our feet shuffle and toes squish amongst the fallen ash.

Tears of those dead have watered that line of oaks.
They pull in each drop as the rag soaks.

And with each sun more souls are added still.
Into the killing field until the ground is fully filled.

-OM

44.1

Summerset

I saw a summerset upon a dream that was not met.

An object of possibilities, drenched in ideas I bleed.

I pondered upon a golden ticket, hoping some scheme would set.

But forged in fire I had let, a silver ticket is all I met.

It’s not a tragedy when my dear dreams meet misery.

It’s just how it was meant to be as sad songs from me seem to flee.

Back to the forge to dream, a new dream of possibility.

Or give up on being me and let the darkness in you see.

-OM

44.1

She

She sits upon a ledge,

I watch her heart beat from afar.

A perfect sunset, sitting Star.

My moment for a moment’s edge.

I hear her sigh, why does she sigh.

As a mile seems to pass by.

A tear breaks the moonlight.

Passing through my heart’s light.

And with her sigh, and with her cry.

She becomes a sunset before my eye.

-OM

44.1

Flicker

I once saw a flame flicker until it flickered amongst itself.

It screamed a scream of smokey dreams, and twirled till tendrils floated by.

I missed the warmth I had felt when it was alive.

A fiery existence of wanting that demised.

And in the embers left behind.

I saw a broken image that was mine.

-OM

44.1

Gentle

Saturday, a gentle breeze, I feel it deep in me.

A summer breeze, can it be, peaceful misery.

Winter set, on summer set, waking up the mind.

Past times, of future times, a life on rewind.

Gently now, please gentle now, fingertips in the glade.

One finger then, not the middle again, let the passion fade.

Come swiftly back, please come back, back to our home.

Don’t leave me here, past memory clear, left all alone.

-OM

44.1

Dreams

I sat upon a Star.

Watching my feet hang from afar.

Like leaves in the wind.

As they swing again and again.

I thought about a dream.

A hidden passion within me.

Inescapable thoughts.

Of inner struggles I have fought.

Till I burned inside.

A cauldron here resides…

Becomes a burning flame.

Another star the sky does gain.

-OM