The Symbols in Chaos

The ten tales, gold platted fables,
Hand picked, polished, and let to fly.
Ninth of a piece, twirling in the wind,
The never seeing eye.

A dangling clef, tremolo plays,
Quivering voice of sleep, they fade.

The eighth fable, fabricated in white,
The seventh a sin to foretell.
Crackling fire kindles a remembrance,
Bereaved toll of a forgotten bell.

The pitch vibrates, lets out an angst,
Faith lost in the sinking carpal.

The beast from hell with head count of six,
Break one, form one, divide your fear,
The clock hands made a five,
The all seeing eye, doesn't hear.

Timber of faith, quivering sound,
Southern wind heard a faint cry.

The division bell toll four, morning, and night,
Amber lit sky hit a chord of three.
Pondering the everlasting meaning,
The sky lays, staring on earth, never free.

The tempo rose, sky the limit,
Heart beat along, match they say.

At two in the noon, the sun would smile,
Down at that one lily flower.
I wonder what the sun ever thought,
Locked in an unseen tower.

- Tim

The Street Light

The eyes of the kid, street urchin, 

Shimmered, with a distant dream, 

As he lay wrapped under my light,

Skies and stars, reflected in his dream,

And he slowly faded into the sleep.

Her mind was fixed, thoughts calculated,

The pen poured ink, on the blank paper,

Hope filled her aura, blanketed in a yellow tint,

Hope to achieve, as she sat under me,

Hope to lighten the burdens of her life. 

A tear of joy, a tear of sadness, 

I couldn't tell them apart,

She sat cuddled in her lovers arm, 

A good bye I reckon, or a sense of comfort,

My light made them whole, as they waited.

The redness of the pool, dripping, reflected orange,

As he lay gasping, against a blinking headlight,

I wish I could help him, but alas I was not moved,

The wails of a distant siren, caught my ears,

As I saw his life, disappear, under the cold yellow light.

These are my stories,

Every night a new tale,

Every night a new life.

I wait, for someone, to look into,

I wait someone to talk to.

Disappear

The blue lillacs, dew drops,
Carry me on the winds,
Heed my call, Rain, Rain,
Walk my path, say what you will.

Morning chill, comfort my spirit,
Take me with the blizard,
Beckon, and see, Waves, Storm,
Walk my curve, see the world.

I wish to be lost,
I wish to be found,
Say no more O southern wind,
I wish to be asleep, in your arms.

I wish to stay,
I wish to leave,
I wish to be me,
Disappear, says my spirit.

The Nightmare

Cradle my thoughts, 
Shine, brandish the little fear,
Make it your own, 
Make me your little nightmare.

I walk, I stay, trying to find the steps,
My legs slip, I fly, I fall,
Night my shelter, 
Scared my soul, pumping hard, my heart.

Screech my brains, 
Scars of a past so blunt,
Fumes of sulfur, yellow thick,
I lay, clutching my head.

Wake me up, 
Before the night runs out,
The hands that follow my scream,
I am lost, I am just another dream.

Cradle the thought, 
Raise a dead child, 
Never let it see the light, 
Never it live outside your nightmare.

The Beats

Carry me in your arms.

Sleep the dreams away,

Drift into the space.

Half fulfilled wows, 

Why do you stay, 

Begone, and never return.

Carry me in your arms.

Watch as the world burns,

Play your wooden drums.

Carry me in your arms.

Spoils to share, and lands to loot,

Robbers we are, brothers we were.

Carry me in your arms.

Stay one more night,

Let the barrels tumble.

Look beyond the horizon, 

Where the sorrow lightens,  

A majestic future to behold

Carry me in your arms.

The Merchant Of Dreams.

Rickety rackety, the carriage tumbled,
Rickety rackety, the clocks spun,
Down the mud road, rode he,
Clad in white rode he.

Dreams for sale, Dreams for sale,
And for you, damsel in distress, a jug of ale.

Paint with brush stroke of luck, 
And a chiseled plan, when the luck trails,
A drop of the red envy, for those who fail,
A splash of purple pride, for the winner.

Dreams for sale, Dreams for sale,
Turn your life colorful, from dusty pale.

Watch me as I make your dreams true,
With a handful of sugar coated lies,
And a spoon full of ways to live by,
Watch me as I make your dream, come true

Dreams for sale, Dreams for sale,
Trade in adventure for your sorry tale.

A dash of remorse for the days you lose,
Shimmered in with distress and cure,
An Icing of all the pain you will endure,
Look I made your dream come true.

Dreams for sale, Dreams for sale,
Exchange your hopes for a coffin and a nail

"Twelve ounce of dreams for me sire",
"What would you pay with, my dear son",
"I have these", a bag full of innocence,
Oh I sell dreams, and to you I will sell them.

The Cat with the Blue Eye

The cat spoke, with spurts of laughter masking its voice,
"Do you know what makes this world a place worth living?",
A blank stare on my face, that was all I could give.

The cat smiled, its bright eyes shone, blue,
It straightened its fur coat, licking its palm.

It leapt from the table to my shoulder, to whisper,
"Its that little bird over the fence, which I need",
"That yellow cute bird, which would become my dinner one day".

An evil snarl, as it leapt back, its gaze fixed on me,
An evil smile sprung upon its whiskered face,

"Open your eyes, look around, find your bird",
The cat purred, as it lay, playing with its wool ball,
Then without warning it leapt out of the window, and my eyes followed.

With a lightning move, it had the bird in its claws,
A little struggle, and a splash of blood, a little tweet.

I understood what the cat had said, and my eyes watched,
As the cat feasted on the dead bird, relishing its taste,
I had to find my bird, the bird to make this world a place worth living.