Torrent-bed

I seek him in a torrent-bed
I seek him in the divine waters of unconstitutional purpose
I have no doubt
My mind will ease there
And that my thoughts will trickle through
And down into
Between nothing and faith

Somewhere in between I am sure of it

My hand grips blasphemy like a crow
How cunning
This cry out from my reaches
From out of the very depths of me
It shudders up and begs
It wants to burst from me
And caw
And scream
And turn my brows to arches
My face angular with passion
My body braces from the intensity

I feel sick
My stomach has swallowed my heart
And she still beats
Each thump swirls my head
Each thump drives me to let her loose
And heave

My fingers have found a new curve
As if they have turned themselves around something sharp
And jagged
And liable to cut that curve away

My Rocking Chair

It is empty in this chair  
As I sit and lean back into a space
I am destined to fall into  
Arms wide  
A look of shock dropping my chin  
Into a chest you once crossed with your fingertips  
In such a way  
My ******* formed perfect candied peaks  
  
The thought of your mouth there,  
Sets me to rocking  
Oblivion awaits to swoop me up...  
  
Cold hard facts
And points like diamonds
  
The sky once scattered in them  
And they shone in my eyes so
They scorched  
And blinded  
  
“Why do you wear that skirt, those boots, that look .. and inspire such filthy reciprocity”  
He gaslights the diamonds  
My eyes they bleed  
My arms flail through the air
  
Oh it is not easy  
In this rocking chair  
It is not easy
But I rock into a sightless sway  
I think on the day...  
  
And these words from a man who gripped a harness in his hand  
To the extent  
And brutal force
That I can no longer stand the sound of twisting leather
  
He said to me ..  
(and with this look on his face)
He said to me;
“Woman those hips! You woman, those hips.,  . You were born to spread those thighs. I’ll be born again, right there in your thighs!”  
  
And in the night he had done it..  
in no stealthy way  
Or like a panther  
But with force and monster like stare  
My eyes..  
they still burn from his ***** glare

Is my hair on fire?
It is the darkness
It is the cloud that hovers it
The dismal fog and fade
From destination
(II was once propelled by its heat)

Now a smoldering
Now a dissension in the ranks
This un-twist of plaited red
And amber
And just a glint
But fading gold

And just a glint

Enough to keep me wandering
Wondering

Bits and pieces
Shoes tossed across the room
My clothes piled in a corner
The smell of coffee scorching on the burner

Tomorrow I might rise and clean the mess
Tomorrow I might rise
Today I just go to bed

I have felt more dead than I’ve ever been
Half alive and roses
Five rows and a casket
Cracked open slightly
By a jagged thing
Sloughing velvet
The color of my rouge

Underneath
I have watched miles of countless scenery
And the grey and scrubbed tracks of Men
Making their way
Down the highways that never got them there

Disapproval
Disappointment shoveled onto their laps
Like the burden of children
It’s all in a life.. ..

It is all in a life

When Golden Years
Are shed like tears
And tattooed blue ink to cheeks
Once pink with promise

Salty trails of permanence

Adhere and there..
Here and there,
But what’s in a life but death?
What’s in a death but a life un-lived .. ?

I ask
And raise the lid to look
Peek for the answers that might break my heart
A scattered skeleton ... to the floor
The bones that cradle my flesh inside
So that I might hide
From the discomfort of it

I might hide from the comfort of it..

My tongue caresses the inside of my jaw
To beg a gape and awe..
to urge a childlike response to the world
Not to encourage
A brutal and courageous faith..
but one that is innate and infallible

The seed that caused the first instrument to blow
And charcoaled the walks of the Neanderthal
(Or more appropriate name for that human)
But being all the same..
and became Man kind as his spiritual need met the need to survive
And it shown on his face like grace

Bone

It is not a pretty thing..
or any kind of delicate cling
.... the scent of rose hips to pink skin
.... the new morning dew drop
To blade of grass, bent from it....

But more like the red shade
One might see..
Across two yellowed tooth’s
Jagged and arching from a mauvened grin
... teeth like a menacing and red smeared
Ancient ivory and bone menagerie
...
And pouring stink
Pouring stink

It is red and clings and dries to bone
..... and
The bone was used to unleash it

A torrent spill
From whack and grotesque thud
Until....

Whack and whack and grotesque thud
And death dump thump

And the life
And the life
And the...... life
She, ...

A lesser spill..
she does not breathe...
I .... over ****

I over ****..
To hollow her out
Her skull .. brainless skull

To hollow me out

The spill
She slows to stop and I...
find belladonna’d glaze of eyes
Find stillness in the red cementing of fate..
See art in its red and drying state......

Red smears on tooth’s
Like a cold ***** menagerie
Like a Grand Monet
In my own private gallery

...