Singer/Songwriter Darren Block: Poetry
SUMMER'S GONE
Summer seemed shorter again this year;
Why can’t they just leave the poor clocks alone
And let the last long days take their natural course.
To die with dignity without manual assistance.
Pretty soon the sail-boats will all be wrapped up
And the sand won’t burn my little girl’s feet.
Big towels will give way to bundled up poets
Trolling the beaches for old washed up rhymes.
When ocean-towns loose the bright light of summer
Their offerings soon become subtle and rare.
Diamonds return to coal, fueling the winter;
Leaving the long shadows in charge for a while.
Someone had a fire in their fireplace last night;
How could it already smell like Christmas?
Then I remembered that I was in California
Where Autumn amounted to one windy day.
A column of Harleys flowed down 101 south;
Like a river of angry rats running from the cold.
They didn’t seem so tough from a mile away;
As I watched from the relative safety of my hilltop.
Faces turn inward with lingering sun-tans;
Wondering where their next dollar will come from.
Just in time another summer’s gone;
Thirsty for rain and five o’clock nights.
I’ll soon find another season of memories to share
As reminders drop like red and gold leaves;
Pressing my thoughts between pages like flowers,
They’ll always come back to bloom in due time.
STOIC
Camouflaged by distance
And flanked by a disillusioned past,
He wept by night;
And by day stood tall and deliberate.
All his body could do was to follow
As his soul raged;
All his mind could do was spin.
Fooling everyone but himself
He plodded on - and on - and on;
Never believing himself,
Always wondering why.
Leaving all his joy
Years behind
In a box of memories.
STOLEN YOUTH
I’ve changed;
Collapsed
And grown back.
I’ve died
Inside.
Outside
Knelt by bedsides:
Felt pain,
Her’s and mine;
Still young.
My youth dragged
As her’s sped by;
Racing.
Prematurely gone
To a cold dark hole.
Now I’m left,
Stripped alive.
Alive
At least;
At least alive.
ME PEACE
I let her sleep a lot today;
It was easier than taking her out,
Always running the risk of something,
Something that could kill her.
Not that it wouldn’t bring her peace,
But staying alive’s the thing to do.
So unattractive to be dead;
So complicated and terrible.
She loved to live, to be awake;
It seemed a shame to waste her day.
But in her sleep I found my peace,
And now my peace will last forever.
FATHERLESS CHILDREN
Incandescent life
Angry
White hot
Insignificant death
Violent
Bone cold
Society corrupted
Warped
Wrung dry
Fatherless children
Killing
Need love
SELFISH
Tethered to your nightmare
By strands of kidnaped time,
I compare your love to poison
As you let your darkness shine.
Withered from a hellish hole,
Entranced to wait for something more;
Content to rupture every pore,
A blackheart veil protects your soul.
But you in shadow wait by day,
By night enrage my fragile heart;
To take me down to dwell apart,
From all that’s noble right and well.
How could you knowing where I’d been,
Partake in raping spirit pure
And smear my heart across the floor,
For selfish glory’s cross you bear?
EXCEPTION
The fog made buildings disappear
But couldn’t hide your face.
The rain washed the city clean
But couldn’t erase your memory.
The wind blew through the trees
And through the place that was my heart.
The sun warmed everything on earth,
But me.
THE FAIR
The fair from a distance is a wonderful sight,
With a childhood glint and a mystical glow
That strokes the night with a firework brush
And a dose of terror from a rickety old ride.
The wind carries memorable smells on it’s back;
Popcorn, machine-oil and blue-ribbon cows,
Big piles of sawdust that cover the messes;
All getting ripe in the hot August sun.
Liars and cheats and thieves run the show,
But today I don’t seem to mind a good fleecing;
It makes me forget that money’s my master,
As it should when time slips away behind joy.
Screaming with fear, all the kids beg for more,
As grown-ups scramble for shade and some beer.
The hot sticky ground creates popular benches
And candy floss dreams start to bud in the night.
Angry new teenagers collect in the darkness,
Snuggling into their rock hard cocoons;
Content to leave childish summers behind,
While inside they mourn the loss of their youth.
In years to come they’ll be back to recapture
What they so hastily left behind in that season;
Chasing life backwards like old smokey remnants
Of the firework’s shadowy grey spider clouds.
Our town’s cycle turns like a huge lighted wheel,
Coming back around to make us remember;
Reminding us not to stray far from our hearts.
The fair from a distance is a wonderful sight.
WHY ME
I bend steel in my bare hands
Yet I’m bruised by an unkind word
I have no purpose other than to rile
And yet I’m allowed to exist
My time is scripted and uninspired
I’ve never worked
Yet I’m retired
All I see is what’s not there
All my friends are really scared
Who cares
I didn’t know them once
And I won’t know them yet again
The time we spend is tongue-in-cheek
A means to no specific end
So I’ll enjoy my nothingness
A shell of life
A bad regret
A lark
A joke
A poem
NOVEMBER
Ripe golden leaves spun to the ground
Reluctantly giving up their cozy summer homes.
The cold squeezed in through the cracks in my floor
As November prepared to give way to winter.
Ghosts howled and cried out loud to be noticed
As I prepared for the long year ahead.
Her house was mine now but she still owned it.
The walls purged her misery and bled with her fear.
Time was running like thick wet sand
That finally gave in to the undertow and drowned.
Sweet death paused as her soul gave way
And turned itself over to the powers that be.