my fury is vesuvius
and the heat will spill over
and destroy your light
light of pompeii
pompeii of the old
old darkness rises anew
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space
that fine relaxer
the breather
while say
flopping on a bed
thinking of nothing
or say
pouring a glass of water from the
spigot
while entranced by
nothing
that
gentle pure
space
it's worth
centuries of
existence
say
just to scratch your neck
while looking out the window at
a bare branch
that space
there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won't
get it all
ever.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
a blind horizon
dressed from head to toe in all black
he shades the ground he walks on piercing
blue eyes and hair of twilight
madness the desire
to leave this asylum of boredom
burns strong in his carefully caged heart
yet he lingers like a piece of lint on fabric
there’s something holding him back
perhaps
it’s the smell of hazy pollution
or
it’s the comforting shadows of tall figures
or perhaps it’s the arms around his frame
who think they know him best
tugging him from the unknown
down into the crevices of his childhood
down down down
down down
down
down
down
the thing is
he thinks he is
not so far down that he can’t stand again
he knows that his legs work and he know his city by heart
knows every street sign and every gutter
knows every turn and every crack in the black sidewalks
but he’s tired of knowing
he wants to not
no
and the unknown
is what entices him
draws him to his boots and to his nearly
empty
bag
he waits til night where it blendsin with black city
he’s just another bug crawling through the dirt now
it’s quiet but the
silence
hurts his ears and clouds his mind
it’s too loud
he has no map because he does not know where to begin
he just follows the stars laid out before his black city
and attaches his blue eyes to the brightest white and walks
forward forward forward
backward
one last look
will he come back
he doesn’t want to know
the nights are comforting, reminding
him of the place he left
behind
the days are long and hot
hot, an unfamiliar feeling
that crawls from his ankles to his brow
one long creature of perspiration
leaving a trail of novelty behind him
he’s now a crow against the white clouds
white, not grey
white, not black
bright, not dark
bright, it hurts his eyes!
squeeze them tight and wait a few more hours
wait just wait and it’ll be over
how was he to know of this blinding backdrop
he wasn’t
at night when he rests
he barely lights a fire
the flames too hot and bright
like the day he dreads tomorrow
he feels exposed and
vulnerable now in the clear, wavering air
he doesn’t like it
he didn’t know
he decides he doesn’t like the sun
he decides he likes the sun
it provides a penetrating stare he’s not used to
not the shifty eyes and downturned faces he is
but it’s so hot and it hurts his skin
his eyes
his eyes that never knew light, bright white light
the sight he needs but doesn’t want to know
anymore
he needs this
he needs to know more
he needs
he doesn’t know what he needs
he continues down the uncarved path
and doesn’t look behind
him
afraid that if he does
he will turn and go back to the knowing world
he forces his feet to pound the stones
and keep walking
walking
he already knows how to walk
there are some things that he can’t let go of
those things that he knows
and knows how to do them
they will always be with him
he knows how to walk
to talk to breathe to sleep to eat to drink to sit to stand
to run
running from the knowing
running to the unknown
run run run
keep running
stop
what’s that
a lonely other figure standing beside him
it’s a dark shade coloring the white ground beneath
him
it takes awhile
for him to realize that it’s his shadow
cast from the burning star above
he revels in this newfound companionship
he’s found a piece of himself on this path
he’s found something he knows
amazing
how something so starkingly beautiful can
come from something he’s learned to hate
this unknown balance has him smiling
he wants it to rain
wants to feel the cooling sensation
that horripilation
that awakens him from momentary slumber
he wants the wind
that invisible force that pushes and pulls
him in all directions
he wants darkness back
not just a wanderer that follows his every
move
he misses it, that vast city
that bathes its citizens in calming blackness
in dark knowing
he pushes forward
forward into the deep white abyss of
places foreign
and things unrecognizable
the unknown is tantalizing
and only the tantalizing can be clever enough
to catch its victims in a web of ugly misconceptions
unlike the black knowing miles from his feet
miles and miles and miles
his spine bends as he avoids the gaze
of the sun
careful or it will bend permanently
like the fuzzy shadow under his eyes
bring more light and more unrecognizable things
he only knew of black and different greys
but there are more
much more
he comes to a giant pool of water
with which the rim is far beyond the point of existing
he’s never known this much water all at
once
he continues to walk
he does not know how to move his arms
or his legs in such a fashion
and soon he’s buried deep within the pool
there’s a heavy silence
and a sinking feeling
he’s doesn’t move
but falls into the comforting darkness
into the unknown
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
he is space
the freckles that dust his nose and cheeks
are constellations
stories untold
the dark purple that bruises
the undersides of his eyes
are areas of the night sky
that are absent of stars
yet full of hardship
his eyes glisten like galaxies
colors swirling into something
more
something big
and his smile
is the sun
that burns with brightness and warmth
and leaves you with stars in your eyes
he is endless
and he is space
and like space,
he takes your breath
away
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC