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B Wasserman Aug 2016
we flood thee
roots to the very
swell of bone
skin to very bark
of soul
flesh as tangible as
personal truth
but now we tire
and you none the wiser
as once we guarded
your affections and your gaze
no further shall we repair
now belief and disbeliever
we depart and shall
remain ever departed
blame what chances
you denied
when you and your
throne sat high
bones crash
under the pulses
and machinery of life
decay decay decay
such reluctance
what nails rend and flair
sense wed in a torn bed
remind you for their
lack of recompense
B Wasserman Jul 2016
Do you see my eyes
they have swam through pages
and ink
lifting letters and arrows
resurrecting dead words
they have sundered
steel and oil
smoke and blood
all the currents
cannot reverse
and bring us back
to our first path
our destination is
soured by bad directions
why must the past
be so cruel?
B Wasserman Jul 2016
Drop a little bone
in dusty drawer
the dust leap
and electricity leaps
like suffering released
from worries

bones and shakes
such cowardly snakes

fear is cultivated by
you and tended by you
wont you dare to admit
that even to yourself

your fears are less than real
than your pain
all more real inside the tulips
of your head

The branches of your brain
hang low. Why then must
you purge those
apples so?
B Wasserman Jul 2016
What are you to do?
when the eyes dim
and the lamps dims
and the song grows
yet a little more quiet?

I am your ship
bound with floods
floating on sails
led wherever your
love captivates me.

I am your madness
boiling like roses upon
lips of red.

I am your strength, strong as long as you recite my name.

The land draws close
aye where days swell
and hunger
and reap

who would you call for
when the dark days roam?

my hands falls
my head falls
beneath the soil
all bareness spread
along bare geometry
memories swept
from the leaves
and broken drops
of water
find another
forsake me

what will you do ?
what will you do ?
B Wasserman Jul 2016
So many and
everywhere
there are travelers
perhaps there are
more like me
and doubt their destination
clutched in the jaws and hooks
in the glint of any mirror
reflects my present looks
when should I leap off the tower
and assume a new ship?
The days ruin and spin
these days are mine
and shine now as
they did for the dead
go on
go on
go on
I mustn't think
-breathe-
B Wasserman Jul 2016
This pain
could run into
the triumph of
my head
burn and torment
alas for the tune
is worth a thousand pains
sail on sweet pain
curse me
navigate endlessly
through my hearing
till the clouds
crash
till the bird
songs shine
extinguished
till everything
is eclipsed
by great
throws of nothing
B Wasserman Jun 2016
It is a matter my dear
to unloose your head upon
your actions undivided by
thought and not consumed
by thought for tempests
are blind and empowered
by you and as you breathe
the clouds breathe and
extract some part of you
and as you break
the storm fortifies and you collapse,
you are heaved into the thunder
of the storm, for like rain
you have become
and like rain you shall remain.
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