There’s aesthetic anaesthetic
in the beauty of your form
sedates the silent screaming
of my grief.
your eyes are dampened charcoal
large and lovely
They roll, your eyelids flutter
set the beating of my heart
your boyish nose is Elvin
perfect, small and straight and neat
and I could
listen on for hours
To see its end move as you speak
and I can’t
articulate the angles
that compel me in your face
but I can’t stop myself from staring
everything is laced
but I know
that we’re not well suited,
though our needs are well aligned,
because they’re all
you can be unkind
I talk to you in silence,
With the energy of the stars.
I talk to you in silence,
As silent as one can be.
I fight you in the day,
Your darkness salts my lips.
I find you at night
With a wish,
Hoping for your life
To taste the rivers of light.
I talk to you in silence
as silent as one can be,
With the echo of a petal,
I offer across space
A velvety caress,
Hoping for Antheia
To grow forests in your soul.
A note from Mousai
Praying it wakes your sunrise,
A golden smile from Felicitas
Her kiss travelling with time,
An apple in a verse from Aphrodite;
Tender flesh accelerating your mind,
Honey juices enticing your angels,
Core essence taming your demons.
Your childhood dream
Your teenage dream
Your 20s dream
Your 30s dream
Your 40s dream
Your 50s dream
Measure them in decades
Transfixed before a distorted hall of mirrors
A cycling fun-house
While presidents come and go
Parachute pants, bomber jackets, bangs
When you’re drifting off to sleep
What feeling awakens in your heart?
What small feet run across your translucent landscapes
Cubists blocks of what might have been
Twisting , reforming…, parallax
Like Etcher in motion, Inception
Dark cities floating overhead while eclipses burn red
Do your hands tremble with rage or with despair?
Or do you lie perfectly still, resigned
Practicing for your casket
Selfies of your head sinking into starched pillows
You’re responsible now
Clerks and coroners pat you on the back
The least you can be is responsible
Hunting down dreams in dreary forests
With bow knives and bandanas
Better to fill out your W2s
Calculate your interest and help with homework
Don’t be selfish
Let others burning with madness, desire and discontent
Dream for you
Shape the future for you
Preferable to be content
An anti-pioneer To Nest in paperclips and razors
Satisfied with consolation prizes, Ms. Congeniality
To sink silently down the toilet of trivialities
Floating listlessly like a turd
Flushed out into the polluted ocean of time
But let us not dwell on dreams
Let us drill, let us dance, let us down
Korean BBQ and snap-shot sunsets
Never mind the shadows swirling
Through you, deepening with every tock
Civilization calls - You must be integrated.
Not like days of yore
On the hunt
But wrenched into a mechanical maelstrom
Input into a coded vision
An alien incubator zooming through metallic tubes
You are an app
Of Aborted dreams
Of pragmatic passiveness
Fingered by millions of strangers
To kill time and hope
Have you ever had a bad cherry?
At first, they're succulent.
You feel thrilled, almost salacious.
You burrow for more.
You fill your hands with their gravity.
Red ones, dark one, even better.
Then you find it, it looks like all the rest.
You're ravenous, unable to pull your lips from its surface.
You expect to crunch down on its soft supple skin.
You find the horror within, it's bland, the taste is thin.
But each one before, held a marvel within.
Your heart is riotous, it looked like all the rest.
The anger has me writhing with a tempestuous din.
The sound of heartbreak yelps from inside.
How could it be that one?
How could it be that little thing that seditiously winks without eyes?
A piece of my soul it takes but it doesn't leave by any window.
It dies within, leaving my gut to wash its sin.
Sometimes you are that bad cherry,
That beast that brings mourning.
I sleep with the scar and heal in the morning.
The cherries look too good today to pass up.
But another bad cherry looms in the wake of my deep thirst.
Just as with you, there's always another day.
It may have had something to do with an x-girlfriend of mine.
Anyway, the past is the past.
I left my darkness wadded up in the corner,
but it didn't forget about me.
For a time I believed I was rid of it,
but just leaving it doesn't destroy it.
My darkness waited until the lighthouse grew dim
before making a timely assault against my heart.
If only I had left the lights on my vulnerability
would be nonexistent.
I once saw the world
through a ruby lens;
before I changed.