Where'd the water go?
Well I don't know.
It's deep and dark down there
Don't go. What do you care?
But there must be something down below.
Otherwise the words won't show.
Words are water, clear and bright.
Crystal, cool and out of sight.
Perhaps I'll drop into the dark
Find the line, make my mark.
The rope drops deep into the earth
Long way down for what it's worth.
I've no desire to quench the fire
With water from the deepest mire.
Into the cavern I'll descend
Unknown when I'll come out again.
The water's dark and deep
And promises to keep
In wood or well
Jees what the hell.
Deep into the mind with lantern lit
The ore is gone, we've but a pit.
Where are the words?Where's the water?
Nothing here but crumbling mortar.
There is no bottom in my descent
Surface with the water went.
Where do I stand in this deep hole?
With no foothold for my sole.
I cannot find the ties that bind
The worms, upon it, they have dined.
There are bones encrusted here
Loved and not so dear.
They are within the circular wall
Enveloping me in my fall.
A long drop on a slender rope
Held fast above in dwindling hope.
Is there a bottom in this round?
In this grave I've suddenly found?
There is no light at the end of this tunnel
Just a never ending downward funnel.
Will the rope ending prove too short
And I no longer have support
To follow Alice in her fall
Destination unknown to all?
Is this not a well but a rabbit hole?
Is there water down below?
I should return to the light above.
But it's the journey itself I should love.
No words I find, the well gone dry.
So there's no water with which to cry.
There's Alice. She's floating there.
How can that be? It's no fair.
She's finished her downward plunge
Will mine my life expunge?
I search for words. I search for water.
INto the well deeper than I oughta.
There is no end I'm dropping fast.
Answer me! How long will it last?
This the bottom? No it's not.
Just a crumbling bit of rot.
The walls are wet and slick with goo
Only memories, but of who?
Is there happiness in the dark and dank
In this crumbling shaft I sank?
There is no end. I've discovered that.
No end below, no light above.
Where is the wonder of life and love?
gone with the toll of bell
heard even here in this waterless well.
It tolls for thee
It's too deep for me.
I must escape from this depth.
Before in sorrow I am swept
into the darkness of the soul
With no outlet, only to stroll
in the depth of a lightless grave.
The rope I hold, can it save?
Surely the journey is almost at an end?
The rope is longer the more I descend.
I never thought it'd reach so far.
The water's missing there's only tar.
A fit end in the depth of soil.
In future years to be but oil.
Brave the wave and come on in. How'd your day go
and where you been?
I slept away most of the day. What can I say isn't it May?
May is gone and August has come. The days they run one on one.
Have the years passed so fast? The last amassed a frightful cast.
Years and years of beers and tears and fears and dear's arrears.
Quantify, typify and identify my life's fly by. Die demise end of tries.
Where from here? A hemisphere of scorch and sear the lifelong fear?
In the grave what do we save of life's long rave? A deep dark cave?
What's below that we should grow from fast to slow and then we go?
Is there nothing more than dirt in store when we open that door?
The reaper will stand with scythe in hand and we disband this mortal land.
What does wait beyond that gate? Many prate too late! too late !
The earth still spins. The crook still wins. Do we still have opium dens?
Answers? We have some. Most are dumb. Just a crumb to leave us numb.
Who can say? Body decay will have us stay in a box today.
Beyond this day we may pray there is the play of spiritual pay.
If this is it, then why not quit?
The day is long with unfinished song.
The Night? A bright respite in sight to those in flight from the body's plight?
Who can tell? We live in a well and then we sell birth rights pell mell
Ain't it swell?
We must know before we go what we know.
A life of toys--boys must be boys--everyone enjoys.
Then it stops. The heart pops or the liver rots.
Ended! Spirit? Suspended? We tended to extend it. Plans rescinded.
Life goes on. Worms in the lawn. birds sing song all along.
And we are gone.
Remembered? Who cares. No one shares our lifelong stares.
LIfe goes on. Bees make honey. Wall street makes money.
Ain't life funny?
The crime I find my mind in rhyme..
It's small words I'm cursed to put to verse.
That's the worst.
More than one syllable? It's unfillable.
I fear I'm stuck in rhyme gear.
Perhaps a kick in the rear?
Used to be a beer would cure with cheer.
Now I need something to impede.
A two by four du jour
A moment on the floor
with stars above my head.
Have they fled?
No way. They stay
to ruin a day. what shay.
Toulouse Lautrec
He had no peck
It dragged upon the floor.
He said, well heck
Whacha expect
I'm only 4 foot 4.
Rhymes they haunt me.
They live to taunt me.
I'm under attack
And at my back
I hear
Small words appear
They scream and shout to let them out
Rhyme me! Rhyme me!
No! Me!
You see?
They hustle about
Within without
If they don't get out,
They pout.
I'm imprisoned here
behind the sheer
wieght of words
like birds
caged from flight.
Might makes right
So many pressed so tight
I cannot fight
Rhyme, Rhyme go away
Do not return another day
Return to mortal clay.
Word and spirit arise
wailing winding cries
say your goodbyes.
I've no more room
It's just a tomb
and not a womb.
From this sullied flesh
away to refresh.
Spirit fly
then reapply
with a new supply
of words to try.
Now leave me be.
Can't you see
how unhappily
to be or not to be
sets on me?
See the sea
And how it haunts me?
Let it be.
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