lostrhyn

   Standing out like a single star against the deep-black night sky, the campsite stood out from the brushy hillside.  In the light of an electric lantern, figures loomed black, sinister.  Creeping slowly, one footfall softly after another, he drew his weapon and proceeded with his work.  He smiled at the prospect of his work.  They said he would never accomplish anything.  Four holes exploded in the canvas tent announced by staccato bursts of fire and sound.  A freshly lit cigarette fell tumbling to the ground, scattering ash and embers as it silently crashed.  Broken lines red, red liquid splashed like a frantic brushstroke by a manic paint

Every exhale was like starting a fire Breathing out a cloud of smoke There was no snow but the ground still crunched The grass glazed and glimmering A million blades shining in the night After an early sunset the sky was still bright A cathedral of lights flickering above The pricks of light stabbing the darkness And endless ceiling turning slowly Orbiting that tiny hilltop In the distance passing headlights wavered Pathetic attempts at imitation Our flattery to nature's luminance A dog's bark and a horse's snort A small wind washing over the pines This is the world I always knew The light came from above Settling on the vall

       “Growing up in the Alabama hills 'stills a goodly number of things into a person that others from various sundry places on God's green earth just don't get.  Things just ain't the same up here in these hills.”  An unusually heavy snowstorm had only the day before, buried the entirety of Vermont keeping the inhabitants of the old cabin indoors for the extent of the day and isolating them from the rest of the world.       “Did I ever tell you about the time that one fellow burned down the old mill bridge on the Chattooga River over by Gayle's Crossing?”  The old man continued to muse as he stared into the jumping fl

its too late            and i’m a buck short and aluminum just isn’t a substitute            for the silver spoon i’m hewn from the earth         the soft part at least for i am anything but stone         but still too rough for your velvet sheets you always told me         the hair on my legs made them look like pine trees         maybe you were clos

i write to you when my mind is clouded by rum and coke and gin and tonic            and memories of how                 it was and i know its all you see of me         because its all ive ever shown when the batteries are dying and the night is growing old its of you i think when im all alone         my bottle and me youre the one i call but you dont call back            not anymore i wasnt looking for a savior          i had one all along just a kindred soul who needed just the same

like frost on the windshield        you grew on me crystal by crystal in a random pattern        glistening pristine on a frigid morning the pattern was almost complete but the sun rose and melted it away unfulfilled        let down like a day after Christmas when the tree comes down        down and out        out to the trash        to brown and become bare and here i am now        the frost more random        and the world        just a bit browner still missing you. because of you i can't listen to some songs they remind me that something is missing i look at the winter sky on a clear night when all the st