The first group of words
because there was no fire in them,
I gave up the previous lines
because there was nothing true in them.
The images were lost
in a dry maze of suction
while the visions faded,
gone to die.
There is a difference
between watching the spectacle
and baptism by fire.
The hotter the flame
the crazier the story becomes
better to burn
than to grow numb.
An empty bottle holds no water.
Moldy cheese will only make you sick.
A lonely cricket chirping
in the corner of my garage
will never find love.
Drinking whiskey in a graveyard
might land you in a cell.
The morning fog
won’t last till afternoon.
You can’t sweep the porch
without a broom.
Ash blocks stack up
only to one day collapse.
Doors will close
so that new ones may open.
Silence will never be heard
no matter how closely you listen
and the more you listen
the louder it gets.
The most important things
will not be spoken, but felt
in the moments between moments,
when least expected.
Be aware,
the final words come
after the last journey
down the winding road
no one has ever walked.
