Listens to Coldplay

Frau_Kopfhörer_iStock_000007764339Small-300x183She listens to Coldplay
While the keening melodies swoon
Flexing a nondescript power
High-pitched in its wandering
Her ear tuned to its frequency
Like a catechism calling “Mary”
A confessional without a priest
She’s filled with the spirit
When she’s not even on her knees
In a kind of hypocrisy
Or acceptance of the unknown
The dreams more real than life
Draped in kaleidoscope colors
This photograph distorted
To match the feeling of her soul
Which no absolution can attend
And no penance can assay
She doesn’t know any other way
To focus on her shortcomings
Without anyone to listen
So she listens instead, intent
On communing with a hidden god
Who sits high and judges low
Like so many who have come before
Only to disappear at midnight
When her demons come to play
And the tears flow like wine
These notions of solitude
Lost amidst the fallen souls
Looking for a savior
Who never appears.

Drowning Static

IMG_4548The view encompasses forever
Or the edge of a street corner
Teeming with urban wildlife
The exchange of quality goods
Music blasting from car speakers
Drowning out the static
Until only feedback remains
Lost in the undertow
Of avenues long submerged
Beneath gristle and bone
The six foot dance with death
This two step parlance
Without a definite partner
Or an illumination of the soul
The edge of the curb rises up
A concrete reminder of fear
This demarcation of territory
Cordoned off in yellow strips
An endless parade of civility
Stretched thin by circumstance
Carved into the nearest lamppost
That shines down over me
As I wait for the number 10 bus
Shackled to mortality
This need for survival throbbing
Like my incessant heartbeat
Reminding me to breathe evenly
Because tomorrow requires calm
And yesterday has forgotten us
Just as track marks fade
While the music dominates the space
Left vacant by a revolution.