His is a cross
born of a pivot
and throw of the hip
like a dancer or
a mother lifting
her child.
Less like Christ
even in faith,
with violent intention
taking the space
of the walking prayer.
These are the arms
that fall upon bone
and through confidence;
same that shelter
their author from
those angles
he ravages.
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 2:17 PM UTC
Underneath it,
holes for air
and light
(totems of lost
meaning
like witches blood
to the wanting arms
of hand crafted
divinity).
I am lifted by
the morning's heat,
forcing the fog
from dew,
and I linger there
between earth
and mist.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 1:51 PM UTC
Curious in contempt:
Made for
your arms,
missing selves
without touch,
before it became
distant--like
memory to age.
It could be age
that steals away
selves known
and gardens
an angry thing,
now viscous and
putrid.
It stands where
someone draped
in gold
left an imprint
in the carpet,
heavy over
flattened threads
that once
reached to heaven.
Gone like
the affection
in their own name.
Gold is soft
to the touch
and takes a form its
beholder can decide.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 4:25 PM UTC
folly of age
not endured
but the limit
of it clear
now
respect for
idle selves,
or of waning moons
lapping at their
sightless horizon,
serves only
the sake of
itself.
petulance
was
honesty
is
frailty
patience
isn't
fortitude
as it may have been
years before.
you know too much
to act so little;
shame is yours
if you want it
(and i must have)
(would palms
run eager
to the un-wanted?)
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 1:21 AM UTC
artifice
and
nature
unwoven self
strung and dyed
and made much more
than born
by the hand,
the transparent eye.
sea bound,
ripped from the body
as new babes
from mother's chest
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 2:00 PM UTC
there is something small
and curious
and much like
a pup
it makes me
become
i become
larger
it is only as
the grass is
to the flower's stem
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:41 PM UTC
Our exquisite Lady of Breath and Silence,
let our blood run clear and our lungs fill softly.
Blessed art thou who shrouds us from touch
and blessed be those whose touch shan’t find me.
Forgive me, for I am a vessel,
built upon plague and unknowing.
Have mercy on us, still my hands,
and may we gaze upon the open eyes of our elders once more.
Amen.
Oct 27, 2020
Oct 27, 2020 at 12:44 PM UTC
your voice
is the floating
pennywhistle
below the wind.
behind my
eyes, I live
and lie waiting
with your
good company.
your breath
is a moon
for my tide.
my body
is a shaded
leaf
without sense
of you.
Oct 27, 2020
Oct 27, 2020 at 12:42 PM UTC
Here is forever,
Because we are so duly noted,
As members of what
The layman calls Earth,
But the preacher calls “Kingdom.”
And I call Home.
Ferocity is something unfamiliar,
And yet,
So normal.
It’s not something I tend to access,
But when I do, I really seem to enjoy the startled look on your face.
I’m much more that you ever thought to ask about.
My philosophy is one of apathy.
But, Apathy is what we must destroy.
So, I take my shimmering blade to its throat,
And with one slice, Blood fountains.
How much more Beautiful can a being become?
You and I shall be warriors,
Set on the righteous path of
Holy Destruction.
“This land is the land of Shiva,
Greatest destroyer,
And Black Kali stands above him triumphant,
She is bathed in the blood of mortals,
And yet, I see past the red stains to the tormented heart,
Of a tender wolf. “
“A killer. But, never taught different.
Spilling the blood of the innocent,
But lacking the understanding
Of the sacredity of life. “
Breathe love, my darling.
Breathe love, and exhale deadly monoxide.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Here is forever,
Because we are so duly noted,
As members of what
The layman calls Earth,
But the preacher calls “Kingdom.”
And I call Home.
Ferocity is something unfamiliar,
And yet,
So normal.
It’s not something I tend to access,
But when I do, I really seem to enjoy the startled look on your face.
I’m much more that you ever thought to ask about.
My philosophy is one of apathy.
But, Apathy is what we must destroy.
So, I take my shimmering blade to its throat,
And with one slice, Blood fountains.
How much more Beautiful can a being become?
You and I shall be warriors,
Set on the righteous path of
Holy Destruction.
“This land is the land of Shiva,
Greatest destroyer,
And Black Kali stands above him triumphant,
She is bathed in the blood of mortals,
And yet, I see past the red stains to the tormented heart,
Of a tender wolf. “
“A killer. But, never taught different.
Spilling the blood of the innocent,
But lacking the understanding
Of the sacredity of life. “
Breathe love, my darling.
Breathe love, and exhale deadly monoxide.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC