Morning War by Timothy Dooner (no david read aloud txt) 📖

Morning War

I remember when we slept through
Old Ironside's answer to the sun
Air raid sirens that set off the alarm
My bare feet hit the cold wood floor
Casualties of the morning war
Twenty-seven degrees never felt as cold
As when I was walking away from you
Left on the altar of an empty bed
A sacrifice offered to the day ahead
When the battle is over
I'll trace you with my fingers
Until then I'll sketch you out in words
While serving on the frontline
Of this morning war


Under Lock & Bee

There is a door protected by a bee
With wings fluttering furiously
Above the lock making heresy honey
Just peek through the hole
To not disturb the hive
It'll only open with a skeleton key
Turned by a hand that's skinned alive
And through the passage on the other side
There will be no trial he'll regret he tried
As he walks oblivious to swollen stings
Veins exposed pulled like marionette strings
In a procession of the penitent
There is no stopping the longing of the intimate
Because they are each others destination
She his healer and he her libation
In kind her heart for flesh resurrected
United behind the door the bee protected


Antiheroine

Rappel parables
Beaten in the narrative
She only lived it
The rest were livid
Her children were on the tracks
A fetus in their lunch pails tucked into napsacks
She'd bite the doubters if she only had the teeth
At least someone was blithe, save for Santa
No more Christmas, no more wreath


Will Work For Food

How tall does the beanstock grow
That my magic seeds will spawn?
Because, this Giant germinates a green thumb
How high do I have to climb before the night fades dawn
The dead of winter? Or maybe autumn?
And can I make it to the top before I fall right back to the Bottom?
I ask this question when I'm in bed,
The answer comes in order as it is said:
Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!
I smell the blood of an American
Be he 'live, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread


Armure de L'amour

They'll catch us if they can
They'll beat us until we grin
Because this is too powerful
For sabotage
So baby, please break me
In case of emergency
There'll be no espionage
We'll winnow conspiracy
They'll be riddled by our
Accentuated eccentricity
And widowed by negativity
Because I'm the armor around you
And you're the soldier inside me


The Living Dead

For those not here
For those she'll miss
For those she'll pray for
Like a savior on a crucifix
In their absence
And in their stead
All love will protect her
That knowledge is all she'll need
Under masks and costume auspice
Candy coated memories
Of past Trick or Treats
For all the friends that can't be here
All hallowed and revered
Happy Halloween
We're all dressed up and wish
You could join us


Timber

In the afterglow
On noir sheets
I'll be your light
Reflected phosphor
A rarest resin
From the Dominican
As it shone blue
In the presence of the blind
It took the man with
Ultra violet eyes
And unattenuated frequency
To see your recherche


Redemption

In to the point
Of no return
The line we cross
Despite what we've learned
To look the beast of our past
Right in the eyes
And take its strength
A concave pit all filled with fear
Paved over by a knowing near
That there will be no excuse
Or alibi, as time will tell
On a clock only we can see
With hands a'ticking
Held by you and me


The Beast With Two Backs

The beast with two backs
Was craving too many snacks
He'll offer to seat you
Then sedate and he'll eat you
It's a pleasure to meet...
"Oh, no, I think he meant meat!"
Five meals a day
Is far too much for many
And when he sees you undressed
His appetite will know no abeyance
Because this beast is possessed
And you are his seance


The Period at the End of this Sentence

I am a man and a passionate beast
Spending my time mourning the deceased
With the currency earned from my inner peace
In an empty bed where solace sleeps


Archimedes' Screw

All the wind in the world
Can't make the water rise to land
So when the turbine churns
It twists the wrist of fate
But never turns the hand

When it's ripe for irrigation
I use the wrong nomenclature
Callouses covering frustration
The seeds are laid, that I'll bet you
An auger
Digging by water
All tied up in roots
There's no reverse on Archimedes' screw


The Mine

Mary was so solitary
When there was nary a query
She talked in soliloquy
In a little house on the prairie
Never a diamond, not for a quarry
Buried by the chapel where they were to marry


Sweep

It has been so cold
When I got a chimney
I gave it the flue


Ambient Solstice

As it stood ever and green
Hooks stuck through hanging string
Yule log burning on an HD screen
The word for disease in Chinese is bing

The candles were lit with a flame branches bent
On the couches arm her leg was pressed
Their reflection in a silver ornament
Outside a bird watches from an empty nest

Hair like garland wraped in his grasp
She's his Christmas morning and he's agog
The moment ends in a final gasp
As she laps up the remaining eggnog


Precession of the Equinoxes

Everybody gets a star
That forms her constellation
She may be no astrologer
But in order to see them all
In a naked night from afar
You’ve got to stand a world away
Zodiacal light is always luminous
On the East before dawn
So keep folding creases for empty boxes
Filled with memories and proxy hugs
There’s so much frustration just for trying
As they continue multiplying
In a pile under the sky
As she wonders what to put inside
Her mouth releases a frozen sigh
So just grab that bull by the horns
Because this Taurus sign never forms
Without these stars you've made boxes for


Footprints

From the scorched earth
That used to be this pigeon's perch
I made a minuscule dirtbag
That couldn't bare the weight of ridicule
Snow has memory
But can't stand the brunt of weight
And when we land and when it melts
Be thankfully it wasn't concrete


Hibernation Anxiety

She cleaned off the snow from her paw
Blood rushed to skin during the thaw
Shivering by the side of the lake
There's no reflection in the ice
She can't see how cold she looks
Teasing the surface with the first step she'll take
The next move a fracture she can't entice
This seemed much simpler last season
If only her syrup could flavor the slush
The wound dripping a cherry musk
If only she could cross with certainty
Earmuffs speaking scrutiny
Sleep and dreams taunt her from the other side
"I can pass this, I'll even swim!" she cried
To not concede she'd fail if she tried
But if it is not fully frozen
And the wrong choice is chosen
This'll be the last lake she ever saw


And They Will Howl

You've got a passion for fashion
And Christ as a vice
I've been wearing your thinking cap
And I got a headful of lice
Yesterday at the chapel
I baptised three blind mice
In trade for their seeing eye dog
To pull my sled through the ice
Afterall, alms giving has a price

When discontent met her winter
She said, "Wait for Spring, or maybe
I'll make your Summer one to remember."
We have an indecision for every season
And Athena's rhyme for every reason
Until the day we all fall down


Mjr. Arcana

My hands are gnarled with pentacles
Around my finger like numerals
In her cherry dress
Buried under snowflake funerals
Sign of the cross, knee at the pew
It's midnight at the end of the world and
We're out way past curfew
Do you hear that wind chime chiming?
It's just the Hanged Man nickle & dimming
From his fylfot cross
Laugh all you want but he's got the best view
Over the choir singing
We never heard him applying
The bomb for the work he'd set to do
The traitor is the twelveth card in a deck
Stacked against you


Decoda

The battle we woke up to
Was the trudging feet we'd heard
Scaling fallen walls
A disaster has been incurred

He straps on his belt
After a kiss he knows is goodbye
In a guerilla war on our country side

Words that go unsaid
Cowards don't call their shots
But widows sleep in empty beds

Mourning a war
Fought over a thousand virgins
Prostituted in an evening of whores

So send out the SOS via MMS
We've got your location on GPS
Your carpet bomb won't need dry cleaning
As under great duress she wore
Her wedding dress to catch the wounds
On a tapestry painted by her enemy
She can hang in a museum of the life unseen
That morning she'd rather have wore nothing

When his bare feet hit the cold wood floor
Casualties of the Morning War

The End

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Text: All poems (c) 2009-2010 Timothy Dooner
Publication Date: 12-02-2009

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