Juggernaut dream

I get up, tattered and battered
from the pavement, Gather my bag
wipe off the blood on my chin
with the back of my sleeve

As I walk towards the gas station
I hear the dreaded horn again
I look back just in time to see
two burning holes that dig into my eyes

I jump, and try to bounce away, I barely
miss getting splattered on the front of that juggernaut
but my shirt catches on the door
and throws me down again.

Tired and hopelessly, devoid of hmm.. hope
I look up the street, and down
scoop up a little bit of dirty water
to wash the freshly cut wound on my arm

I give up trying to get up and walk away,
Every time I try, a truck keeps running me down.
I lay down on my back on the murky dark
side of the street, use my bag as a pillow.

I spread my arms and open my eyes wide
I can barely see the stars,
I hear the hurry of cars on the distant highway
and the silent hum of a dark, busy night.

Two beams of light are coming towards me
No, not again. I don’t need one right now
My thoughts are interrupted by the loud
hoot of a horn. hoot. hoot-hoot.

I stare into those now dreaded burning lights
and think, this is it. I am standing my ground.
I am sleeping here. Take me, boy. I ain’t afraid of you now,
or never any more. I close my eyes in peace.

Seconds tick away, it should be here now.
And then I hear a screech and the noxious
smell of something burning. Footsteps.
I open my eyes to see an old man staring down at me.

You crazy? boy. What’s gotten into your head.
You could be killed, you know. Here, let me
help you up. My, you look terrible. Let’s get
you straightened out at that gas station over there.

He keeps on talking, saying things like
suicide is bad boy, or did someone throw you there
you in some gang, boy? what is it people these days
who …. The voice drowns away as my sleep catches up on me.

-by Lex Lapax (10/20/2003)
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Simple pleasures

thump thump-a-thump, I hear
the heartbeat of the earth
magnified by the train passing through
as I lie on a log washed up by the tide.
A lone seagull chirps
as it follows the curve of the
little cove I have so surprisingly
but deliciously stumbled upon.

The primal and the ancient in me
savors the hauntingly familiar
music of the wavelets pounding
the shore, slowly, relentlessly
leaving behind millions of
tiny seashell that crackle under my
bare feet.

My eyes zoom in on a hovering butterfly
seeking nectar among a
thin line of reed standing in defiance
of the water in the middle of the cove.
I pick up a small pebble
to swing across the water.
It skips once and sinks.
I stoop down to pick up another
but then let go and sit down
next to the log to again feel the
thump-a-thump of another train
that’s passing through.
-by Lex Lapax (10/14/2003)

A night to behold

The rivers of flesh
of ego and of pride, and of
the streams of people
seeking pleasure
and passion
and the need to get
acknowledged overshadowing
the exodus of religion
and of belief and trust.
The need to be able
to not think but
immerse in the
confused but delicious
reality of communal giving
the taking and forgetting
the absolute ridiculousness
of being lost in an
angels dance
and to see the pristine innocense
in an adults face
who chooses to delve in.
I choose to delve in.
-by Lex Lapax (10/12/2003)