The pretty things were all dancing.

And we were looking for a sign.

Dexter danced and shook it off.

Like a Madman on the shine.

We were drinking at the Cascade.

At Leo’s five and dime.

Nothing much was making sense.

Until The Villians were the crime.

It came and went so quickly.

Like a fever at high pitch.

The Era went, and no one saw.

In silent darkness came the switch.

No one gave us warning.

Or at least not one that I heard.

And all the pretty things were dancing.

And the lines were kinda blurred.

The water main was wet and broken.

Neon sign said,’Jesus Saves.’

We were quiet, no words spoken.

Traveling light down darkened caves.

There’s a moment in the mystery.

When Winston woke and gave the sign.

We could walk or run at misery.

Either one or leave is fine.

I’d grown tired of this direction.

More a sense of what one craves.

I can’t live without reflection.

Without the sign that Jesus saves.

Walked in silence on the snows hard crust. My mind it roamed from wrong to the just. I watched an eagle swing from the sky… The silence was broken with his mighty cry.

He looked so proud. He looked so tough. His freedom, his kingdom. His only musts.

Then, a mighty thrust that shook the air. In seemingly gloom and much despair. His blood fell on his rocks from our of the air… And the silence was broken beyond repair.

No doubt nine times out of 10; Suicide is killing yourself in spite of yourself.

She was toxic in that good way.

Like main line heroin.

She could sense my disappointment.

And then gently glide it in.

I was looking for some answers.

Truth; I was looking for some trust.

I was sentenced to her beauty.

I gave it all, then all went bust.

I broke free but not in spirit.

When I’d sleep, she’d find my dreams.

What looked good at the omega.

At the alpha distance screams.

She had a look all business, that some mistook for cold.

I charmed my way into the dark, a sort of drama did unfold.

She said I lacked commitment. That she would change me from within.

She showed me all her prowess. How and where I could begin.

I was looking for an exit, a strange light outside appeared.

I made my way I don’t know how, like the seas a path was cleared.

This story has no moral except somewhere else I did arrive.

Unless she’s here and in my dreams, then I made it out alive.

He was looking for the answers.

Not for money, nor for fame.

Not brought down by love or cancers.

So informed by guilt and shame.

He lied about so many things.

Just to keep them on their toes.

The rich, they yacht. The poor they sing.

The lies are everybody knows.

Some said he was a poet.

Some said he was insane.

But they could never know it.

What was running through that brain.

He was looking for some answers.

Not for money or for fame.

Not brought down by love or cancers.

Not informed by guilt or shame.

There’s such a quiet in the morning.

It’s just a silent cooling still.

It’s hard to know what is a warning.

When you’ve calmed that urge to will.

Dennis Mantin

He was staring at me in that way that has a tendency to make one feel uncomfortable.

The streetcar was crowded in the way that 2 o’clock in the afternoon is, and there was nothing between us but the empty Isle.

“You have a problem, friend?” I asked quietly.

“I’m not your friend.” He snapped and stood pointing his finger at me… He was bigger than I figured. 6’2″, 200 pounds. “You want me to kick your ass?”

“Be careful what you wish for.” I answered and continued. ” I jump over guys like you to get to a fight.”

And that’s when the trouble began.

The neighbor took to drinking.

And then fell into a rut.

Following the appearances of deep thinking.

Then, got all bloated around the gut.

There were moments of rage and ranting.

Followed by hours of hot debates.

And in the sparkling twilight hours.

Where so many mapped their fates.

He went out without a whimper.

I swear he didn’t make a sound.

And fell into the ether where…

So many before have drowned.

I was thinking, partly listening. I was nodding, but deep in past.

You were talking. I know it’s shocking. You were thinking this can’t last.

The balance is fractured broken. . There’s a movement in the air.

All that talking, and no listening. Spinning stuck in, ‘I don’t care.’

As a child you are a victim, an adult, a volunteer.

So many wrongs, and self abuse, in time to disappear.

The unforgiven have a prison that is dark and wicked deep.

If the unforgiving don’t let go then neither one can sleep.

A great unknown, that time has shown and sometimes looks like change.

If letting go has left some marks, then no words can rearrange.

Tears of laughter and tears of joy, they look the same I guess.

You killed my dog, I’ll kill your cat has no virtues; I confess.

So try and find forgiveness, or maybe just understand.

That if I hurt you I must confess it wasn’t really planned.