[Crawling Chaos]

These works (c)copyright Crawling Chaos Publications, a division of Crawling Chaos Industries. (c)2001 All rights reserved.

-----

"What a strange world, a strange life..."

On my right side, in that cold house
I thought back of matrimony
She was married, I was not
And her husband was an ex-marine
and an ex-cop
All I saw was barrel-chest and hard fists
like bowling balls crashing down on my head

And when we met, we exchanged looks and beers
I helped him move, carried boxes of his boxers
down the stairs
and I thought, what a strange world

On my left side, staring at the wall
I saw the tumors in my father's lungs
in his throat, in his liver
And someday I would know him
his pain, his regret, his hollow look
But not today, I get up and go downstairs

I write, this fickle muse has come again
and I peck away about my strange life
My girl, my wife, she greets me and goes to pee
It's not so bad, this life and world
truth is much stranger than words in a verse

Maybe, one day, they will read me
but I will be long stiff by then
and their praise will fall upon my ashes
ashes of a strange world and a strange life

----


"So clear, to see the blue"

On days so clear, crisp and blue
I stand and quietly remember
of days less true

wanton wishing of what others had
never once did I think, not once
that wanting is whats bad

I try to recall, those somber days in fall
padding down the street, feeling wise
not knowing, not knowing at all

and when it finally came to me
jade had set in, numb and bitter
that what others had, had came to be

----

"Never a look back"

I threw a rock, a random stone I chose
sailing away, cutting the world it flew

Not once did it look back to thank me
that I had made the dirt fly
gave a swine wings and bid him goodbye

----

"They kill somewhere"

hot, sandy, and they kill there
they kill for father, for god
and for honor

i wonder, i wonder sometimes, if they know
know what it means, where it went
where the war will go

dying inside to slay another
feeling proud of the brass and dirt and blood
they are already gone, past hope and gone

and they will read our stones
pick through our ruined homes
and will they mourn us?
i think not

----

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[sacrelicious]

No Nyarlathotep? No R'lyleh? No cosmic mist that's really Randolph Carter?