The King of Nothing and Nowhere

by Stephen Paden and Rebecca Rady

I breathe in death from a golden throne
So mightily held by a fool
Curtains rot
But no blood flows from the bloodless heart
No song reaches his lips
Only the wails of regret
That echo on careless walls of stone
But I am only a diseased worm on the floor
A witness to a nameless kingdom;
On my belly, wrought with pox,
I squirm and watch
Recording the lament of past decisions,
Ill-advised choices
And laugh
Laugh as the king withers
As Time takes him into its uncaring arms
Takes us all into its unforgiving embrace

bold are the colors

by Stephen Paden

Bold become colors through dirty windows,
bending and twisting in the sun.
Bold become sounds that break through glass,
never once creating a shard.
Bold become birds that rest upon branches,
as the dogs of the year start to run.
Bold become lovers who meet in the park,
a love so easy, yet so hard.

Bold are the restless that find their peace.
Bold are the ones who win without war.
Bold are the lovers whom love always seeks.
Bold are the colors on love’s painted door.