No More Sleep

Within the sanctuary walls
the people were sleeping soundly.
And every time the sun did fall
No more worries in their county.

Until one day
the peace had broke,
and the people
were awoken.

Now all their dreams
were distant gleams
of a time that
was once hopeful.

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Sinners in Ignorance

How can you repent sins that you are ignorant of?

Ignorance of sins committed from joy and love.

To the devout and saintly, these transgressions are plain as day,

But those surrounded by heathens will not have that much to say.

Some sinners convince others of their grace and virtuousness,

Those who believe these words stay content, because ignorance is bliss.

 

To those who wake from their blissful dreams

whose reality starts to tear apart at the seams.

As they look back at the aftermath

Of all the hurt that has because of them amassed

A shock will run down their spine

A shock that doesn’t go away with time.

 

To live in blissful ignorance

or a catatonic indifference

 

To live absentminded of the horror

or knowingly in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Courage

If I had the courage to step into the night

I would have seen the stars long ago.

This flickering lamp has lost its will to fight

And now its light speaks to me in Morse code.

To say I could decipher its message would be a lie.

At best I can guess its intent as I wait for it to die.

 

The truth is, I am a terrible coward.

A sinner of vast proportions who painted himself a saint.

Walled off in a lonely tower of my design.

“Why did they leave me here?” Is now my constant complaint.

Now I dwell only on these stars

Who in my sleep request to hear my memoirs.

 

But I am still afraid

To step past the line

and into the fade

I tell myself that I will be fine

But in this tower I will deteriorate

Until my memories no longer hold this weight.

P(1+r/n)nt

The first years were spent feeling overwhelmed.

All these sensations sending signals through synapses,

which I had yet to learn about. I had no concept

of the time or space around me, and my survival

depended on an unlikely couple.

They were so in love back then.

They led me, fed me, and lay me to bed.

The first years were spent.

 

Those later years, I stepped forth

into America and kindergarten.

I remember my first week there,

the teacher read a letter that was a response

to a letter sent by the class

before my arrival in the school.

The reply was from George W. Bush.

On the backside of the reply she was reading,

was a picture of the man himself.

Being new to the country and around five

years of age, my knowledge on the man

was considerably limited. Later that year,

2001, I started first grade.

I began learning the culture.

Then those later years took a step back.

 

Those teenage years were so bittersweet.

Turns out acclimating to a culture is bit of

an uphill battle while attending Catholic school.

Seeing the changing tide, my mother pulled

my from the blood of Christ, placing me

in the hands of Uncle Sam. I would become a

teen in the tumultuous tightly packed halls

of public middle school. I remember little

from this time but the girls I liked, games

I played , and guys I spent time with.

Maybe these foggy years would

have been more visible I had not spent

them behind a haze of odorous smoke and vapor.

Having left my teenage years, looking back

is bittersweet.

 

So here I am, an adult.

Or at least that’s what the world would tell me.

I don’t feel like one.

Those first years of being carted around,

seem distant now.

That culture I didn’t understand in the years after,

is something that I am now a part of.

And all those girls I thought I loved,

they came to pass.

That large mass of friends that I once had

withered down by time and distance.

So here I am.

An adult.

Moving towards the day

where I finally feel like one.

 

The Respite is Over

 

A thick fog that I once knew well

has decided it would return

to where it once dwelled.

Haze envelops and encompasses

old memories and current thoughts

clouding my perspective and hindering

my best judgement.

 

Over a year ago now my mind was clear,

last October. 2014 was the year,

The blinding billowing clouds

that provided shade to my soul

were blown away by a change.

A whole new me,

Unrecognizable but by name.

 

The Change came on slow.

It came as drops of water from

a ceiling, and I the bucket underneath

collecting little droplets

that began to alter me.

And by February I was nearly full

A different bucket than from before.

 

I could barely recognize the person

standing in front of the mirror.

For better or for worse

my mind was now far clearer.

The mist that muddled my mind

no longer cushioned my

ego, emotion, and essence.

 

I had for the first time in a long time

become vulnerable and open.

I allowed people in

and no longer felt so broken.

But it was only a matter of time before

eagerness and excitement faded away

into anxiety, at least not today.

 

In June with the sun shining hot,

a sweltering woman entered my life,

sitting here now, I wish she had not.

She burned away flesh and muscle

exposing my bones and soul.

And she embraced my shambling body

before she let me go.

 

Now all these months later

that pile of bones has slowly reassembled

and it resembles that man who encountered

all that scary change so rapidly.

But unfortunately, his mind has been infested.

A fog has taken over

and returns him to his slumber.

 

Strange Awakening

I went to bed yesterday a child,

And today awoke a man.

My surprise was far from mild.

My childhood took one look ahead and ran

Because this adulthood is scary.

It has frightened my innocence away .

The adolescent thoughts that made me merry

Were replaced with repetitious thoughts of pain.

Waning is the vigor I once had

And I’m not trying to say it’s all bad

I just remember what it was like before I was sad

And I really wish that I could go back.

 

If I Ever Grew Tired

Looking back its hard to imagine

spending my time with anyone else.

We stopped just short of becoming tragic,

and now I have to learn to be by myself.

I know this is the best for the both of us.

So here we are, separate,

And here I am, desperate.

I thought that after all this time

That you would have faded from my mind.

I can no longer resist your mental intrusions

Because for just a moment it brings back the illusion.

I expected to grow tired of these notions

But eons have passed and still I feel broken.

I miss you a lot,

and not a day goes by

where you are not in my thoughts.

You were the glimmer in my eye.

Reminisce with Me (cont.)

Engrossed as I was in the story, it seemed that old Eddie had entirely forgotten that I was there. It seemed as if he was telling the story to himself, rather than to me as a listener. None the less, I sat content by the fire, propping the shield that had been attached to the pack against a large rock, and got as comfortable as I could. Eddie paused before continuing with his tale. He put his lute down and took a sip of the broth from his bowl. The fire crackled as Eddie re positioned himself, and he looked at me.

“How much did Daniel tell you about the Battle of Fredrickstead, young man?”

His inquiry was accompanied with a look of concern. I replied,

“Only that thirty two men died at his hands that day.”

Eddie for no reason apparent to myself, looked relieved.

“Aye, he did. Most did not die by his hand or sword though.” He chuckled.

“How did he kill thirty two men then?” I asked, having already assumed the answer. The millstones were probably a majority of his kills, but I felt it necessary to entertain the old man.

Eddie took a breath of preparation, “To answer that, I will continue where I had left off.”

He continued the tale.

“The sun had fallen, and most of the men were armed and ready, waiting atop the hills surrounding the hamlet. Daniel and his scouts scurried along in the darkness to a collection of torches which lit up the pitch darkness only slightly. This mass of light in a dark place was the one of the two war parties, the other taking the opposite end of the town, lead by Elyse and Gerald. Your uncle and myself took charge of the one at hand, and Daniel had news of the approaching army. It appeared as if the size of the army had been cut in half, which we later found out to be because that idiot David thought we had gone East and taken shelter in the woods of Wergen. David took his best soldiers and left the rest to search the south, where we were. David’s decision was not entirely misguided though, as some of the men who fled Fredrickstead upon arriving, had been sighted near Wergen. Although they were cowards, they did not deserve to be butchered as they were during David’s fury upon realizing he had made a mistake.  But I digress.”

“Upon hearing the news of half the expecting opposing force, many of the men rejoiced quietly. This angered myself slightly, and I took it upon myself to remind everyone that most of us would still die her tonight. “Less than three hundred fifty farmers, workers, and young men, against four hundred skilled and trained soldiers” I reminded them. The war party grew silent and went back to brooding in the darkness. An hour passed, and the marching of David’s men could be heard. The entire plan rested on the assumption that upon seeing a deserted hamlet, the enemy would spend the night, and then loot in the morning before leaving. Luckily we assumed correctly as four hundred soldiers poured through a small break in the hills and into Fredrickstead. Thanks to our friend Gerald, who had the bright idea to wait until most fell asleep to begin the attack, we waiting until what was most likely three in the morning. One of our men lit the signal, the other war party responded and it was on.”

“If you were impressed by the thirty two your uncle killed, then Gerald’s death count would make you faint son. To start the battle, Gerald and his band of archers had arrows lit by some magic of Elyse, and let loose the fiery birds of the night. The fire that was born of those arrows engulfed the town quickly, which we had made certain it would with kindling and coal placed in precise locations. At least fifty of their men died in those flames. From the tips of the hills, it felt as if we were staring into a massive campfire, and all the enemy soldiers were small anchovies caught in the heat, roasting alive. As we heard the screams of dozens of burning soldiers, our men prepared the millstone for its descent into the blinding light. The enemy had caught on and began to climb desperately and frantically up the hills. They were met with a hard crushing death. Your uncle crushed at least thirty of the thirty two men with his millstones. It wasn’t long before we ran out of the massive make shift weapons, and we began our climb downward into the still hot embers of a town that was alive and well earlier that week. ”

Interrupting the old man I asked “How many men do you think remained when you entered the town?”

The old man pondered for a minute.

“Well, I would say we lost less than ten men at that point in the fight, and upon arriving at the village, we outnumbered them quite a bit, so most likely they had less then two hundred and fifty. The fight in the embers was the most costly for our cause. By the end of it, We had a count of one hundred and seventy nine men, with forty enemy soldiers taken as prisoners. Unfortunately Gerald had perished during this fight, along with countless other great men. Elyse, Daniel, and myself mourned greatly the following day, and we did not find respite until we arrived at Fort Magen after a weeks journey south.”

Eddie became silent briefly, then quickly added,

“My… our first real victory.”

I had become entranced with his tales of swords, stones, and war. I sat patiently anticipating him to continue his story at Fort Magen. He looked at me and yawned.

“Perhaps you will hear the rest of it if we make it to tomorrow night young man.”

He stood up and got into his tent. Shortly after snores from his tent were heard in addition to my uncles. I sat there for a while, imagining the horrors of war. I was grateful to have not known those horrors, but found myself wanting the same glory and achievement that these older men had earned. I could always dream about war in my sleep I realized. It was not long before there were three men snoring in harmony.

___

To be continued 3/8/16