Can't sleep

Tossing and turning cuz I just can’t sleep
Clock in my head while I’m counting sheep
I can feel the sun coming, but it ain’t here yet
And I’m afraid that the morning will reveal my debt

My thoughts bully dreams to the back of my head
Anxieties and worries beat up hope ‘til its dead
But even in the valley of the shadow of death
I know I can’t give up as long as I still have breath

A tiny voice inside me whispers, like a small flame
Refusing to go out, and keeping me in the game
I don’t know if it’s real or not, but it knows my name
And that acknowledgment helps me endure all the pain

So I press on and a song begins to play in my head
Welcoming the sunrise as I rise from my bed
And throwing off the blankets, I feel a weight fall away
And tired or not, I’m ready for this brand new day

Another chance to get it right by being true to myself
To grab those dusty dreams and get them off of the shelf
Blow life into them, put them on, and wear them with pride
Making up my mind I’m going to enjoy this ride

No more distractions, no more doubts, no looking back, here I go
Running to the light, with teary eyes, in my flow.

©02.11.2017 ebn

A moment

Go back and listen
to what escaped your notice
in the rush of life.
Find your hindsight
and, with the paintbrush of time,
paint your guilt or irrelevance
in the colors of a backward mind.

Rewrite yesterday
in the dead language of hypotheticals,
and let your weeping nourish the roots
you would plant there;
even while the sun runs across the sky.

Her first and last breath
are nothing but echoes of whispers -
fallen flowers under the stampede of the present
pushing forward,
leaving in its wake
the sights sounds and smells
of silk cocoons
to be enjoyed by those left behind.

For the record
stars long gone
can still be seen
from far, far away.

©02.11.2017 ebn

On the other side of town

On the other side of town there's a city impound
where cars wait on death row
abandoned to the elements
untried, their crimes unknown

their lot in life to be run down
and driven hard into the ground
sometimes auctioned off to creeps
with jewish eyes and minds that cheat

evidence of departed souls
who just gave up or lost their hold
for whom previous memories
are fading sentimental dreams

©02.10.2017 Eric Nunnally

Harriet

floorboards creak
under the soles of her feet
out the door, off the porch
to the cool, soft dirt

morning sun has washed the night away
insects and birds are already awake
wind in the grass
an invisible snake

water bucket sloshes
dogs bark full of hope
firewood smells sweet
outhouse has no floor

time is an old baby
sucking bones sore
she sighs, getting up
studying pain no more

water, milk, and blood have been spilt
day just goes on unfettered by guilt
like tires on a road
done with where they been

on occasion road kill flares the eyes and the nose
everything slaughtered ain't meant for meat
butchers tell jokes while slitting throats
what people pay for they don't always eat

those left behind cry out from the woods
sometimes they laugh, teasing her mood
God hides his face to allow her the room
to bear the deep grief of the work she’s assumed

and this godawful pistol
in the pocket of her dress
takes the bullets she's fingered all night
loaded debt

when spent, surprised eyes won’t see the north star
but the driver, the shepherd, the puma, and wolf
her mother, her father, her husband and child
the pastor, the angel, the horrible truth

©02.09.17 ebn

More than a woman?

mind spinning like a dryer that won't get hot
claiming she be banging cuz her engine knock
wishing she was dishing but she really not
stuffin muffins with somebody else’s dirty sock

its like watching a talent show in the insane asylum
at the end of every act, you stand and clap, just lying
clapping harder than the rest while inside, you're dying
cuz this shit don’t make no sense, even though she trying

is she crazy cuz some bleeding heart encouraged this mess
clouding her mind with cheap ass wine to tell her how to dress
using her as a canvas for they brokenness
and displaying they work of art as an S.O.S.?

ain’t it obvious that this “bitch” has been traumatized
a stray whose pain and suffering have been glamorized
broken and made over for reciting lies
to infect other rejects and steal their souls and eyes

the ugliness be dodging you until you remember
she was once a newborn baby with her whole life before her
and that somewhere long the way the world snuck in and abused her
violating her innocence cuz no one was there to protect her

and over time she lost her mind, though she is functionally insane
the grooves and knicks of her experience keeping her guttered in pain
unable to knock down her problems cuz she can’t stay in her lane
giving the finger to her failure she reinvented the game

so while you listen to her posture and profess her truth
just remember someone’s daughter lost her baby tooth
when a pedophile’s fist broke the jaw of her youth
and the concussion that she suffered makes her act the fool.

©02.09.2017 ebn

You don't see me

You don’t see me
cuz
you don’t see you
you don’t see me
cuz
you don’t want to

no shame in your game
when you look away
preferring artificial light
to the light of day

make up caked up
you are buried alive
taking pleasure in your
suffocated suicide

blinded by fake eyelashes
your vision in jail
a pity looking pretty
ain’t uncommon in hell

a blind man or woman
standing in a broken mirror
is disconnected from reflected
truths s/he cannot bear

you don’t see the trees
seas, bees, or me
having forgotten who you are
and who you’re meant to be.

©02.04.2017 ebn

Dance of the Lost Daughter

In front of everybody
Dressed in a smear of blood
You convulse, excited by strangers
Their noses and tongues begging
To explore your self inflicted wounds
The present of yourself
Shameless
Giving in to the whispers
And regurgitated flatteries
Of scavengers
Drawn to the edge of the flame
Ears kissed by moans of your pain
And salivating, having caught the scent
Of your insanity

©02.02.17 ebn