The Lights in the Castle (Perspective) +

One long slightly serious piece written while listening to gypsy tuba and fiddle music and two quick one.

The Lights in the Castle (Perspective)

The lights are lit in the tower castle turret again,
as the clear moonlight turns to clouds,
then to an ominous still,
before wind falls and rain blows and the walls
and mountainside are only visible in terrible flashes.

In the village below men swallow harsh whiskey,
and feverishly smoke seasoned pipes.
They argue politics to hide their inner child’s
fear of the storm and the meaning of those lonely lights.



Children are far less worried about appearing brave than their
fathers, especially at night, in their homes,
away from the war games and dares of their peers.
They first crawl into bed with their siblings, then,
all together with their mothers, who welcome
the company as the night transforms into the setting
of most nightmares. Terror.
and through it all, the constant lights in the castles highest tower,
accent the dark.

An hour into the storm and nearly every villager
has found an excuse to light their lanterns
and heat up fire places and stoves.
The village’s elderly priest opens the
heavy wooden church doors for stranded
travelers, husbands who swallowed too much spirit,
and the homeless alike on a night the likes of which
the building was built to fend off.
The tattered hand copied Bible is fittingly open
to Revalations, as the pages are blown by wind
coming through the open doors.
While the priest tries to joke about how he knew he
should’ve built an arc, the castle lights are still visible,
through the beautifully violent stained glass
depiction of the crucifixion.

….

In the highest tower of the castle,
every candle is burning and the fire is roaring
a lone man, possibly a king, sips his wine,
and nervously watches each light lit
in the village below, before he turns to
witness his young twins, their teacher,
the cook, and his aging mother all come
through the door, to wait out the collapsing heaven,
and get the best view of a new sunrise.





And something completely different

Haiku:

My smile gets bigger
the harder the rain hits my face,
as I peddle to you.


Crass:

I
Have A
Screwdriver
For Every Type of
Screw
Except You