poetry

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shadow jack

zulu time on the radio

there goes the world inside a hat a top someone’s head

why does life come to stops-

why do we cannibalize the objects in our environment

turn them into replications of far-off mental abstractions

sitting in a room full of people

why do i feel all alone-

there goes the girl with the red hair

the one i fantasize about late at night

out into moonlight she steps

and i sit here on the couch

pass the world

pass the time

i think i discovered the secret

that the mystic alchemists were looking for

the answer to a thousand year old puzzle

but i threw it in the trash

not knowing what i had

till the trash men had come and taken it away

with the rest of last week’s rubbage

i suppose

if one were desperate enough

it could still be found

under a thousand layers of waste

light a cigarette

think i’ll die

two puffs and i’m struggling out the door

only to fall

into the comforting confines

of the unused bed in the guest room

waking up to an unknown naked girl

lying soft and warm next to me

‘neath cool satin sheets

eyes closed in perfect rapture

as if she’s hit nirvana

i crawl out of bed

being careful not to disturb her

as i gently move my arm

out from under her shoulders

i throw on my pants

lying at the foot of the bed

i stare down at her

a sweet unknown angel

who perhaps

eased my troubles through the night

but more so just a dream

i draw my gaze away from her lovely face

and head down the hall

to the bathroom

dressing as i go

i stare into the mirror

and i know

i’m only flesh on frail bones

blood of the earth

with a mind to be used as i make it

the sun will be rising in about an hour

what is your poison for success

drop it into your orange juice

and open the door to tomorrow

with the eyes of today

i’ve got to grab my coat and hat and hit the road

don’t shadow me tonight

it’s the same road

same journey

just different realizations

love is on the edge

don’t be afraid if that is what you seek

it is there within your hands

i smoke this last and say hello to cindy with a gun

smoke waves to me

and i vanish into your daydreams

you staring off into space in grandpa’s chair

sitting before the tv with a cold one beside you

hello

goodbye

awaken to time and wonder at the flesh upon you

for tomorrow

it might not be there

Copyright © 2002 d.w. moody

All rights reserved

This poem is from an upcoming collection, Out of the Madness.

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