Ocean Glass – (old post)

Cast across ocean glass, how the winged fishes wept.

Dew be a diamond crystal, of silky hair regret,

How the winged fishes dangle,

They be caught upon the net.

 

I have a simple deck of wood, no grass or house of grand,

No need for beach or oceans, no need for golden sand.

I am not a holy man, no bible held in hand,

But if heaven were a place, 

It be on this plot of land.

 

With ember bud glowing, at my rebuilt side,

I have the means to reclaim, what was lost in once raging tide.

No current will pull my flame, back to the Davey Jones,

I have rebuilt my sail, and with steel rebuilt my bones.

 

So through this window I ponder, with my new brighter outlook,

My time is now mine, I returned that broken book.

My demons lay dying, withered upon the floor,

I won that ghastly battle, 

Now watch me win the war.

 

 

Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.

 

Back To One – (old post)

Return the bull of charge and stamp,

Crashes the china, turn down the lamp.

Close the shop, pull down the shutters,

Back to the grey, the flooding black gutters,

Sledging,

My hammer comes falling down.

 

With a hammered crash the birds flee from top and wing stop rest,

Flee from hanging branch, from sea view nest,

Set beyond the green lands of new, fly to skies of calmer blue.

The animals startle, the horses back hooves punch and dance,

Back to the rack,

The dead eyed trance.

 

Back to the brink, the endless track,

Pause the clapping, the patting of back,

Back to the worry and waiting room walls,

The silent smiles, announcement calls.

The same record scratches the needle to nub,

And spinning, it waits to be turned.

 

Myself be picked up and set back to one,

That time has passed, the moment has gone.

All starts again, this race to be won,

Cranking starter, rusty gun,

Hammers pound the flattened earth,

And so, this beat goes on.

 

Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler

Burden Chime – (old post)

I am anxious all of the time and fear is my burden chime.

Hands are locked, eyes are tight, a constant need to fight or flight.

I am exhausted all of the time, always listening to the burden chime.

The constant chime never stops, no pleading or begging pause these chiming clocks.

The clock always ticks, ticks, ticks, never a pause to let me unload these heavy mind bricks.

A walk outside is done as a race, the burden chime sets the pace.

I am not in control of my inner feel, these devil chimes steer my internal wheel.

Chime, tick, chime, tick, please help me with this hellish mind brick.

Please stop the chime, its making me ill, anymore and ill sink further still.

I can’t breath, the chime wont let me, please make it stop or at least reach out and get me.

Pass me a hammer, pass me a knife, cut this chime and help me reclaim my life.

I want my life back, chime no more, to hell with this anxiety matador.

I have no fight left, I have no flight in me, the burden chime is killing me swiftly.

On goes the burden chime even as I write this, toes curl, neck aches, please help me put on my mind brakes.

How can I go to work tomorrow, the burden chime allows me only sorrow.

Tired I am, counting the chime rhythm, dancing to its tune at any time given.

So as you read this now, look at your watch, gaze at your clock and be thankful you hold the key and command the lock.

You hear no chime, you are the clock and you command when it goes tick or tock.

 

 

Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler