Findmuck

Ghost lay silent between life and love
And somewhere between my soul did appear
Lost within his eyes sallow and closed
And the image of her head resting there
I saw the beauty of this place where
Souls came together at a quarter past twelve
Rocked to sleep by the rumble and sway
Of this dimension so bold
None of us could imagine another way.

His is the ghost
And I'd compromise for a chance to know that truth
Foray into the depths of an unknown soul
Come again, my friend
You can't know an end
To lids which cover the proof;
So I rest within words I'll rehearse again
As I flee into my fervor of dreams
Sit back beneath the lights
Hold myself tight
Maybe when I awake everything will be alright.

I found myself traveling down a dusty road
Of a memory I never thought too dear
Demons which I thought I'd let go
Their faces began to appear
Strange how the winds began to blow
As if God himself did hear
And to myself I thought
How could I ever forgive those souls
Who instilled all the heartache and fear?

Painful, the truths revealed with time
As the veils of youth begin to ascend
Shameful the fools whom convinced themselves
They've nothing to do with the sin
And ghost lay somewhere between these parallels
Stretched out before me for years;
Why did I have to run so far away?

It would take more than just a dream
To sail beyond the things I've seen
More than the woman who finally appeared
Too late for me to care
Beyond the currency of appease I use to blanket me.
I came to a place where I could live without a name
Needed to be a shadow so I could see
And the whispers upon their breaths would be mine alone
This is what happens when you have no home.

But maybe when I wake It'll be alright...
©2014clarencecbess

Six Fifteen Fourteen

You want words
Want love, I don't know I can give
Caught upon a past paradise
Without sin you live
Leaving me these days
To try and come up with some reason to praise
The way they do
When it comes to you, untouchable
But I can only drown in the proof...

Afterthought
I languish behind
You summed it up when you said
'I prefer' another kind
Please keep your hurt
On a day like this I've enough to go around
The sun
A light
I could never be
Still I long for words of honesty
To show a mortal side
A human face
God afforded you the chance to misplace;
You want words?
Or maybe it's my heart?
My submission?
For me to go in your way?
I know, 'God's'
It comes back to a light
A mystery
A dying uniformity just to get you by
Just to give you hope
Something I clung to every night
That somehow I'd awake and I'd make it right;
This day
I'm pained to say
I wish would just go away.

You want what she gives
Despite the sins
She lingers
Depends
Fulfills your fantasy,
I now,
Only have words
To taste my anger
To make up for your hurt
And questions I have no strength to ask
For all that it's worth
To hear three words
Even now I'm unsure I could utter
Meaningfully
When it comes down to us.

Three words which haunt vividly
Still
Because it continues
This regurgitation of your...
( exhale )

I wish I could tire,
Of hating you both.
©2014clarencecbess

Leftovers

That image upon the passing bus struck me.
Struck me as if a vehicle of it's own
Mowing me down with a truth
Never better expressed
Until that very second
As I headed to the shore for a moment with myself.

The landscape had held me
Made me contemplate words
Deciphering the puzzle which lay upon my mind;
But no,
That was not fate...
Those winds, those bodies,
That place.
No, as usual
My station lay inland
Inward
Inscribed upon city transportation
A remarkable poignant representation
Of all that was and is;
Leftover
From the debris of my youth
And my attempts to move on;
From the debris of choice
And my attempts to live on
More than leftovers
Placed out for me
I thought by them
Turns out, it was God.

I should've known this some time ago
Everything was right there;
That time they even gave me an award
'...the recipient of this award is a person
who is always able to make something out of nothing...'
But even scraps are something.
Remnants are something.
Even
Nothing
Is something
Leftover form the debris of existence.

I just have to decide
Are the leftovers a feast?
Or are they a famine?
©2014clarencecbess

Tasted

I loved the way we tasted
It reminded me of the way we taste
Made me think of what they tasted
That first time
Those many times
Cocoa to cream
Struggle to dream
I wonder why
I dare not dive completely
Into the depths of a darkness
One would think familiar and comforting.

I love the way you tasted
Familiar mystery
You lay upon my tongue
A weight of understanding
I could not help but question
Which no one seems to have the time for;
Your rebuke violent and swift
Caused me to fall
Again
Into the cracks of broken dreams
And possibilities no longer sacred.

With every touch of your hand
A yearning called
To return again
To you
There
Where passion and desire culminated in a kiss...
Yes,
I love the way we tasted,
The way we teased,
I teased,
You attempting to seduce
And the both of us loving
If just for minute
Thoughts of what could be
If one of us would listen.
If one of us would hear.
©2014clarencecbess

Songbird

I once heard a bird sing
Proud and eloquent
Telling tales of it's many flights
To wisdom

I once heard a bird sing
Of freedom and strength
Through bars physically replaced
With a mental stronghold ever more present
Upon the songs of a lost flock
Left to the skies with no discernible path
To follow
Intrinsically
So that success
Despite those ever-present
Meticulously placed obstacles
Would forever be branded upon their generations.

I once heard a bird sing
And it sounded as if she sang to me
My history
Our future
Together beneath those joyful skies
I forget all to often possible
Because all I can witness from my perch
Are clouds
Weighted with the tears of my ancestors ashamed
Equality's march seemed to have ended
No sooner than it took such great leaps forward;
And not by the hands of the keepers,
But by the wings of those
Who shunned their sense to fly
Beyond the clouds to that eternal blue
We are so bound to.

I once heard a bird sing
In it's final flight
A return to it 's creator
A legacy proud
As others joined in chorus;
Her work done here,
This is why she sang every morning
Despite the storms which came
Why she praised every day
Despite the caws of those other birds attempting to drown out her message
Why she lifted all you listened
Learned
Making sweeter such consolidated lives
Overburdened with the task of living
Over and beyond a blue
They somehow forgot existed.
©2014clarencecbess

Touché

Touché
The guided hand strikes across the face.
Now
Action will come
Present and full
Because the massa' and overseer have been bitten.

The field niggers whisper
Some with a touch of glee
All with a tinge of fear;
It's getting harder to camouflage this plantation's crimes.
The world is changing
Has changed
And the fruit of those sewn seeds
Has come to a fruition;
The deal with the devil
For a sense of control
Has the belles in a sweat they all thought they'd escaped when they first sat at the big table and haughtily voiced 'come! You there! Bring unto me my desires.'

The house niggers wait.
Closer to the fallout
They feel a sense of security, having laid with the family at their feet.
'The floor of missus' room
Is better than the entire shack' says their faces.

Touché
Whispers echo at who will be next.
I see the new offenders honing their skills of escape and pleading
Watch them observe
Ingesting their elders trials and triumphs,
Gunning for the HNIC
Because that's the one who wields
Brings the operation to a stop,
Even if momentarily,
Becomes hero to that mass of diluted faces
Too watching
Too waiting
Too learning
In this regurgitation of history.

Yes indeed,
Touché.
©2014clarencecbess

Turtle

Turtle hangs his ancient head low
Parts with memories
He can no longer carry beneath his shell
Now as dusty as the years which have passed
Aging him
Bowing him
Confining him,
Though I believe personally,
To stare upon the road.

Periodically
His head rises
Catching glimpses of the now people;
He turns facing outwardly away to watch the cityscape pass
And I am left to wonder his manicure
And the story of his somehow
Intentional unkemptness.

Turtle I've named him,
The arch of his spine
Alcohol?
Drugs?
Age?
Life I figure
Hard and purposeful
This is the consequence biological and otherwise.
Is that me there beneath his blackened nails
At the ends of his silvering hair?
He moves forward
Aware of the stops
Recognizing yet bowed.
I wonder his God...

Is this me?
Is this me?
©2014clarencecbess

State of Awareness

Because my sunrise dims faster every day
Because my heart outweighs my pay
And I know I'll lose more than I will save

Because she got the better deal
Purse instead of steel
And afterthought's become my mantra;
Because my people are my people
Relegated consumerist
Because my government needed a system
And nobody else would be havin' it

Because I'm not a hero to my students
And won't be a victim for my politicians
Numbers are best for dollar bills
Because the alternative would be chaos
But maybe that's God's will

Because my heart can't take it
Never knowing the blood it pumps origin
I am forever shadow across the hues of this and other lands;
And murder is just a shout away.

Because I enjoy the morning most
Blessed surprise
Every day
A birth day
Renewed chance to hone my goals
To make my dreams a reality;
Spring's vibrancy coupled with morning's dew,
And you?

Because she stares a little more each day
Wants a moment more each time
Despite my attempts to drown within my mind
I'm curious about her curiosity
As it makes for another line.

Because it is now, as it was then
Consistently inconsistence becomes my survival
Looking for new paths off the trail
Man's planned for me;
And I can witness it upon their faces
Every day inching closer to a world
Ready to masticate their being
Swallow their souls
Ingesting the nutrients of promises
To defecate what remains upon a plate for their spawn to ingest...

Because I work in reality
One stop away from the line's end
Unless transfer is made
To an express opposite direction of the mind
And I am tired
Too tired
So
Tired
And the dew won't survive the morning.

And you?
©2014clarencecbess