POETRY PAGE 4
ALL MATERIAL COPYRIGHTED: ROY EISENSTEIN
SHAMAN DREAMS
I toss
The night crawls under my skin and I dream awake
I feel the ants inside me
Hairs sneak out of the tops of my feet
And the bed spits me out
A razor
I'm hungry
I'm angry
The lit candle stretching from my groin
The taste of strange blood
The lava I explode
I run wild night streets leaving chalk outlines of my need
Howling down canyons
Licking the wounds
I fornicate with shadows and suggestions and whispers that leave me with their tribal scars
Their music
Hunted I hunt
Burning sticks
Handmade tools
The mark of a warrior
I find myself trapped
In a pocket
I cry my insect tears
Bang the solid walls and look for cracks and seams
I carve my name everywhere
Piss in every corner
Stake out my territory and own nothing
Slashing my wrists in ceremony and the emptiness leaves me
I become the carpet of dirt
I am breathing myself
Drinking the affliction
The venom
The bane
I pour the acid onto the malignancy
Tear the knots from my flesh
Scour the kiss of surface and dream that I am dreaming
Into that fine mist I separate
Dissolve
Absorbed
Only to rain hard onto the sidewalk that raised me
So I descend from the web and curl into a ball for protection
My sharp teeth hidden in a smile
Muscles sore
Fears in place
Dream
Dreaming
Dreaming still
LIFE TOO SHORT
Coat pocket clenched fist secrets
Hard sidewalk steps against a personal wind that slaps and challenges
The winter of time cuts deep painful scars that remind us of where we were and whom we loved with the honesty of a punch
So like soldiers we stand and are forever mowed down
Yet it is a life too short and we never want to leave
WINGS OF WAX
Something in me is in motion
A stirring
I am tempting some force on that dangerous ledge
Where the drop is the deepest
But that's where the view is
I'm nearing that razor blade of thought where decisions break the skin
Finding my way in the darkness by touch
Something is sharpening its talons
And eyes are about to open
Change is breathing and I feel it
OUR MEETING
What you woke
You must feed
This hunger in me
This fire you started
This wild creature you have brought to life
You must sacrifice your flesh to me
On the altar of sheets
In the landscape of passion
I will enter your caves
Travel your hills and valleys
Where I’ll dine on your heat
Your rivers will flow
And I’ll dive deeply within
What you woke
You must feed
LAYAWAY
Poets fall like drunks in a shootout
And dreams like clay pigeons drop hard from the sky
And we’re taken prisoner by the march of the coffin
Because no one escapes from that sleep though we try
We’re victims of wishes that tie up the traffic
While soldiers write letters and then never come home
With dragons in my coffee and a storm in my headache
Nothing’s worth nothing so I sleep all alone
Hemorrhaging kisses and tears that betray me
I stare at sweet promises as they drive away
So lonely like children lost in the winter
Cold without mittens we tremble and pray
And time is a fist that never stops punching
‘Til even our heroes are feeble and gray
So we meet in our temples and churches like lawyers
Wheeling and dealing for just one more day
And the contract they sell us says we have to wait
‘Cause all that we want is on layaway
SOME DAYS
Some days are filled with moments that catch you like punches
That cut you and bruise you and make you feel every inch of your flesh
Days that lean on you or pull at you with the seriousness of gravity
Seconds, minutes, hours that creep along
That hold on to everything
Clinging like prickly vines ensnaring your legs
Sticky little pieces of time that won’t move on
Trapping movement
Slowing your progress
Gnawing at your shoes
Leaving tiny wounds
Making you remember every tear you’ve spent
Some days are filled with moments that catch you
GLYPHS
A tattoo of no ink still left a mark
Something whispered just beyond range
A secret not in on
Just some encrypted cave paintings I don’t remember painting yet they are mine
A movement of light
The indication of something solid
And yet in fact
Just vapor
Ill-defined phantasms
Inarticulate needs
Raw, pagan cravings unlived
The very seeds of possible regret
To birth this thing
To release that sublime beast
Unleash the bound up heart
And let my life run naked and unafraid
To slash the emotional restraints
Crush the stones of doubt that keep me weighted to this Earth
And just fall into the currents and take the ride
And a promise is made
A deal
Fleshed in the armor of a decision made
I steel myself for the truth
And tears will be shed
THE DREAM
We pass through this dream in the guise of something solid
Something permanent
Shedding days along the way
As time takes its tariff
We dissolve into shadows and echoes
Perhaps a name on a piece of paper
And maybe we leave some mark behind
Like an old knick on some long out of style piece of furniture
But while we were here we roared
Stomped our feet and howled
We made love and danced
We were the heat and the light
So we move through the ocean of minutes
Just grateful that we got a chance to be here
THE THING ABOUT TIME
The thing about time is that it leaves marks on you.
Like pins in a map.
You have a trail that you can look at and know who you are in different situations.
You can find yourself in the wilderness of the crowd.
You can stand up when the Winds are knocking everyone else down.
That's the thing about time...
FORENSICS
There’s a mistake lying dead by the curb
Someone left it there
Or threw it there in shame
Embarrassed by their moves
By how they were or are or what they did
So they ditched the corpse
Tried to erase the history of pain
The stumble from grace
The dumb, stupid thing that was or is a part of who they are
Who we are
It’s a scar covered by makeup
A blemish on their record
The telltale give away of their weakness
Their humanity
There it is
That cast off husk of yesterday
Some revealing fragment of vulnerability
Imperfection exposed
Clues to what is
There in the shop window
A reflection of a mistake
A ghost
A shadow denied
Something to look away from
To try and forget
The naked evidence of our mortal flaws
Our lack of responsibility
What’s that sound
The plaintive cries of a mistake
The whispers of a truth being choked
The gasping breath of courage
Howls of blame resonating through the canyons of deceit
The song of lies
There
That mess of dirt on our road
Covering our tracks
Hiding what was
What is
Who we are at our lowest
A mask to cover life’s wounds
A cosmetic fiction of beauty
A mirage of the mind so we can fake a smile
A mistake lying dead by the curb
ALL MATERIAL COPYRIGHTED: ROY EISENSTEIN
SHAMAN DREAMS
I toss
The night crawls under my skin and I dream awake
I feel the ants inside me
Hairs sneak out of the tops of my feet
And the bed spits me out
A razor
I'm hungry
I'm angry
The lit candle stretching from my groin
The taste of strange blood
The lava I explode
I run wild night streets leaving chalk outlines of my need
Howling down canyons
Licking the wounds
I fornicate with shadows and suggestions and whispers that leave me with their tribal scars
Their music
Hunted I hunt
Burning sticks
Handmade tools
The mark of a warrior
I find myself trapped
In a pocket
I cry my insect tears
Bang the solid walls and look for cracks and seams
I carve my name everywhere
Piss in every corner
Stake out my territory and own nothing
Slashing my wrists in ceremony and the emptiness leaves me
I become the carpet of dirt
I am breathing myself
Drinking the affliction
The venom
The bane
I pour the acid onto the malignancy
Tear the knots from my flesh
Scour the kiss of surface and dream that I am dreaming
Into that fine mist I separate
Dissolve
Absorbed
Only to rain hard onto the sidewalk that raised me
So I descend from the web and curl into a ball for protection
My sharp teeth hidden in a smile
Muscles sore
Fears in place
Dream
Dreaming
Dreaming still
LIFE TOO SHORT
Coat pocket clenched fist secrets
Hard sidewalk steps against a personal wind that slaps and challenges
The winter of time cuts deep painful scars that remind us of where we were and whom we loved with the honesty of a punch
So like soldiers we stand and are forever mowed down
Yet it is a life too short and we never want to leave
WINGS OF WAX
Something in me is in motion
A stirring
I am tempting some force on that dangerous ledge
Where the drop is the deepest
But that's where the view is
I'm nearing that razor blade of thought where decisions break the skin
Finding my way in the darkness by touch
Something is sharpening its talons
And eyes are about to open
Change is breathing and I feel it
OUR MEETING
What you woke
You must feed
This hunger in me
This fire you started
This wild creature you have brought to life
You must sacrifice your flesh to me
On the altar of sheets
In the landscape of passion
I will enter your caves
Travel your hills and valleys
Where I’ll dine on your heat
Your rivers will flow
And I’ll dive deeply within
What you woke
You must feed
LAYAWAY
Poets fall like drunks in a shootout
And dreams like clay pigeons drop hard from the sky
And we’re taken prisoner by the march of the coffin
Because no one escapes from that sleep though we try
We’re victims of wishes that tie up the traffic
While soldiers write letters and then never come home
With dragons in my coffee and a storm in my headache
Nothing’s worth nothing so I sleep all alone
Hemorrhaging kisses and tears that betray me
I stare at sweet promises as they drive away
So lonely like children lost in the winter
Cold without mittens we tremble and pray
And time is a fist that never stops punching
‘Til even our heroes are feeble and gray
So we meet in our temples and churches like lawyers
Wheeling and dealing for just one more day
And the contract they sell us says we have to wait
‘Cause all that we want is on layaway
SOME DAYS
Some days are filled with moments that catch you like punches
That cut you and bruise you and make you feel every inch of your flesh
Days that lean on you or pull at you with the seriousness of gravity
Seconds, minutes, hours that creep along
That hold on to everything
Clinging like prickly vines ensnaring your legs
Sticky little pieces of time that won’t move on
Trapping movement
Slowing your progress
Gnawing at your shoes
Leaving tiny wounds
Making you remember every tear you’ve spent
Some days are filled with moments that catch you
GLYPHS
A tattoo of no ink still left a mark
Something whispered just beyond range
A secret not in on
Just some encrypted cave paintings I don’t remember painting yet they are mine
A movement of light
The indication of something solid
And yet in fact
Just vapor
Ill-defined phantasms
Inarticulate needs
Raw, pagan cravings unlived
The very seeds of possible regret
To birth this thing
To release that sublime beast
Unleash the bound up heart
And let my life run naked and unafraid
To slash the emotional restraints
Crush the stones of doubt that keep me weighted to this Earth
And just fall into the currents and take the ride
And a promise is made
A deal
Fleshed in the armor of a decision made
I steel myself for the truth
And tears will be shed
THE DREAM
We pass through this dream in the guise of something solid
Something permanent
Shedding days along the way
As time takes its tariff
We dissolve into shadows and echoes
Perhaps a name on a piece of paper
And maybe we leave some mark behind
Like an old knick on some long out of style piece of furniture
But while we were here we roared
Stomped our feet and howled
We made love and danced
We were the heat and the light
So we move through the ocean of minutes
Just grateful that we got a chance to be here
THE THING ABOUT TIME
The thing about time is that it leaves marks on you.
Like pins in a map.
You have a trail that you can look at and know who you are in different situations.
You can find yourself in the wilderness of the crowd.
You can stand up when the Winds are knocking everyone else down.
That's the thing about time...
FORENSICS
There’s a mistake lying dead by the curb
Someone left it there
Or threw it there in shame
Embarrassed by their moves
By how they were or are or what they did
So they ditched the corpse
Tried to erase the history of pain
The stumble from grace
The dumb, stupid thing that was or is a part of who they are
Who we are
It’s a scar covered by makeup
A blemish on their record
The telltale give away of their weakness
Their humanity
There it is
That cast off husk of yesterday
Some revealing fragment of vulnerability
Imperfection exposed
Clues to what is
There in the shop window
A reflection of a mistake
A ghost
A shadow denied
Something to look away from
To try and forget
The naked evidence of our mortal flaws
Our lack of responsibility
What’s that sound
The plaintive cries of a mistake
The whispers of a truth being choked
The gasping breath of courage
Howls of blame resonating through the canyons of deceit
The song of lies
There
That mess of dirt on our road
Covering our tracks
Hiding what was
What is
Who we are at our lowest
A mask to cover life’s wounds
A cosmetic fiction of beauty
A mirage of the mind so we can fake a smile
A mistake lying dead by the curb