Empire Nothing
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Empire Nothing - William Smith
© 2010 William Smith. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
First published by AuthorHouse 1/15/2 010
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6178-4 (e)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6176-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6177-7 (hc)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010900043
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2010 William Smith. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
First published by AuthorHouse 1/15/2 010
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6178-4 (e)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6176-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6177-7 (hc)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010900043
Contents
A Voice Without
A Year Between
Anarchy, It Worked For Me
Before It Turns
Before The Wind Dies
Blessed Was Future
Blind But Touched
Blink And Crave
Butterfly Pond
Cherub Blossom
Collapse
Counterwise
Difference Without Any Change
Distance Kills Nothing
Eingefallen
Fantasy In The Orange Grove
Fingers Fighting Hands
Flame Meant For Freedom
Flowerbed Grave
Forever, The Word
Glimpses Of Fodder
Guild Of Soul
Hearing God Pray
Heavens Kill
If The World Can’t Wait
In My Arms
It Was For Me
It’s Better If We’re Alone Together In The End
Kill. Feed. Breed. Repeat
Laughter For The Sin
Left, A Day That Wasn’t Mine
Make Me Free
Night Left, But Came Back Morning
Of Heart No Wrong
Peggy Roe
Petal Touched By Fire
Pieces of Pleasant
Promise Waiting
Pulp Fiction: Walkway In The Sand
Reading Goodnight
Red Rock
Reflection Shadow
Relics Of Sin
Sleeping Where They Die
The Lifeless
The Living Shade
The Remaining Peace
To That We See
Trace
What Flowers See When They Bloom
When A Secret Ends
Wishing Lips
Sobornost
To My Mother, Martha Jean Smith Peace Be With You Always
A Voice Without
Has something ever happened that makes you leave the place your at and just escape to a place you remember well? Forgotten is it not, even throughout the time and distance that separates our thoughts, memories of leaves blooming, purple and pink hiding in clear skies puffed with shapes, and laughter of friends close to our life seem as easy as the opening of our palms and the sense before we kiss.
My shore and sea are from this living dream, sometimes the escape forms along these shelled shores. Other times the rivers with the valley surrounded by mountains or a place that seems like home, even though it’s not, replace my interchanging heart of love with the sorrow of regret. Pretty is the emotion of living in despair. But life like this should be refused before it’s too late to stop.
Tomorrow for me is seeing your face
Nothing explains how I feel
Dreams happen, but I prefer them when I’m awake;
To live with you for the moments trapped within my thoughts
Trim my heart before it grows much more
Listening for the words that I expect
To say hello again or goodbye for now
A voice without mistakes
There are no answers to erase
Only crowns of thorns left without a rose
To blossom on their own
Today was beautiful because it did not rain. I sometimes wish I could have one in the same. Sunshine with showers on a day that
lives without words to describe it.
Look away with arms protecting you
Let lips kiss the sides of your neck
Hold on to me now
But don’t be afraid to let go
As we look at a journey
Created with your beauty
With a walk in flowers laced around sidewalks
Next time we meet
Or something that will never come again.
A Year Between
This is what they left me. Escape. Escape is what finds my time. Precious it is. Picking this over that. Choice. What choice? I know it. I can’t help but find it. Every now and then the moment blinks. I’m let out. I see what’s me. I look back. But I’m not there. Not anymore. Just a glimpse. Living inside my eyes. Seen was it all. Death taking its time. People noticed, but why look when they can look at themselves. Dead are the only gardens. Need something I found. Move. I can’t make that decision. I find where I am. Nowhere. But staying over there. Moment: nothing happens. It’s what I like. The mind who doesn’t do its job is what I want to be. Nothing. Nothing that can still be something. Whatever it is, I know it well. The voice inside that speaks through my eyes subsides. Left blank for now. Canvas shed of paint. Pretty. Because there’s nothing beautiful.
I grew up watching this girl take care of old, sick people. Their faces never changed. They sat in chairs with wheels that go nowhere. Controlled by days. A hue of distance is their morning. Windows make them silent as stone inside these little pocket of lights. Sometimes people wake up. Sometimes they die. People here didn’t because they wanted to. The girl killed them. A missed count, so I stopped. I saw her though. Some she would cut. Some she would bleed with acid. Creative she always got. Bored with authority, she got away with a lot. No one cared. Everyone watched. Beds lay empty. Responsibility left alone. Sometimes I remember them. Walking with her, the dead. She didn’t know. How? More killing. More malice in the way she act. Hope she gave each one. A smile. Listen to this conversation. Tell me a little to borrow your youth. End. A word they met. No one finds them. No ever knew them. She noticed me one day. But she didn’t smile.
I can be this. I can be this. I can be this. A year between.
Hands. I haven’t felt them. A cigarette dies between. I like to smoke after doing a line. Every time I put the needle in at sunrise. I’ve never seen red mountains. Today the leaves are orange. Wonder. What color is tomorrow? People are the reason I question why there are others beside me. Lie. I find her face attractive because it looks damaged. Something that survived. Trim a tree of all its branches and the roots still stay. Only then does the tree find its friends. Just wish. It won’t come true. When someone must do something for you, what do you expect? Shame this drug is. Feeling her cum is something I miss. Happiness can’t remain past an instant. Living in the back. Recollected as memory.
Picked. Watch. Crime. No law says it is. Freedom. Empty because life left me. Falling hard from without a sky, clouds hold me together. Puddles. All that came. Storm from a road witnessing fate. All day long wind listens. Changing. Yes. Changing . Because you can be me. Doubt gone. I’m fond of doing what I’m supposed to do. The fool for sadness. The drug of her choice. Walk followed by a run. A night calling it quits. Hold, but only waiting to let go. Bye. That’s what the colors said. I need to stop moving, even though I’m not. I just sit with the life in my arm; killing from the inside. What’s life without a little death called creation?
March I saw day I left. Death in a distance. Bombs came, but didn’t kill. Slowly we burned. Danced were our ashes. Together, we suffered not alone. Time healed then returned to take back what we took. Never were we safe. Our bodies became metal melting on flowers, seeding our fame. We were the remaining. The remaining to wait. The Collective used us. Used no more. This life I want back. This I remember in between slavery I call freedom. No more dragging the damned under gray skies of damnation. No more. Alas. The saints of bringing the dead to the death waiting with patience, it’s only friend.
I know not this now. Before I was an empire. Now, I am nothing. A year between, we shall see, the dead living their dream.
Destruction be blessed. Martyrs they fall. Saints be blessed. Answers are free because they’re not true. I believe it. Day can be for me.
Letting the time escape from me. The making of one and another, child grew to become me. Man then. Drugs now. Her. A face I kiss but lips forget. In this not, she follows before loving herself. Get up. But she doesn’t move. Not … not what I wanted. I didn’t love her. She was something more to me. A word no one else knows. I what happens to her. We, the poor, are fed the dead by The Collective. A diet hoped to cause the same in return. We eat with it known. Spirits our flesh. Trapped within. Not her. I keep her in her favorite bath. Sit by her. Door open. Light staying with the shadows. I look at our reflection. Crying at us.
Doesn’t last long does it? All I can look at is her. She was my beauty. My reason. Anything worth refusing to answer: The question death gives me. Chaos now. Chaos without rules. Rules are, after all, created from the very things they’re created to enforce. No more. Not with her face with me. Her lips half in half under the water. I’m sorry. Now you get to leave. Now I get to be a year between.
I make the windows doors now. A blanket of white around me. Light I’ve never known. Eyes can’t adjust. Burn purple caught with gray, in that doesn’t last, sight falling through. Gone is everything. Near that which grabs future. I see the heart left in waste. Love, what have you become?
I want it to be right. Comfort to find her while she waits for Christ’s coming that ends. Move the earth. Soil stuck to my tears. A grave a gift I kiss but not before I make peace with my lips. Hold me now do my arms. We walk. You in my arms. Light all around us. Lay my friend. My love. My reason lost before I found it. You first. Guide me next. Goodbye. Until I say. Hello again.
I don’t want this sickness anymore. Peace cannot be my blood. Go away, but come closer. Fuck me. You’re not her. No one ever will. Which means more victory to inject, prayers to sniff, and reasons to lose in drinks. I cannot hide anarchy that rejects rules. Past. Past. More past. Grab skin and hide it underneath the rest. I, vanquished. I, the latter. I, distance mourning closeness. Before I am a page I want to burn the fucking book. Read with the power to erase, come as ice in the desert, melted to gone. Realize. There was never any form. My eyes are tired. Fingers don’t even feel connected. Maybe if I was created man instead of woman I’d not feel diseased. Comfort, I would have. In not knowing power. Pain, I would remember. In not killing the dying.
I start to feel. Drugs come in time. But I move this time. Watching the horizon. The sun rises to erase the shadow. The damned are fallen but now the risen. Sadness becomes glass, a mirror believing in me. Then, only then, the distance comes.
The killing starts. The Collective comes. Innocence of truth. We fall where we stand. Victims of difference. Never knowing each other.
Drought. Am I to be fed? Alive I must. Kept for example. Killed is not my sin. Watch do the many. Taken to them I am. I look at nothing. And nothing looks back at me. Crowds gather as I am bound to a tree of birch. Death shall the fire give me. Speech tis thou said beside me:
We are One. One are we. Is it