I'm in a room without recovery area:
a room of intermission, a room
of collapse. Where are
the convenient little windows
to release a wicked bird of thought?
The quiet there is monk-like,
rogue, and slightly unpleasant, guilty
of moments spent with shadow.

I want to build a clock
that ticks once a year
—more dark than shark,

my confessional capacity
—time-stretched,
like the heavy intoxicated *******
of the witching hour. And I'll
make soup from the leftover prayers
of the day before, all in hopes
the rooms of me, then so clear,
will one day be faraway suns
in the temple of heaven.

I'm locked in a death match
with the cynic in me
over whether or not to hope.
It's not been going well
but one of the two of us
will still have to go.
Perhaps if happenstance
was lately just
a little more kind.
Perhaps if light in darkness
was just a little bit
easier to find.
And, y'know, yes.
For sure, there is
more I could try.
But the truth is so
much smaller than
even any one lie.
At night, from the
other room I can
still hear you cry.
Though miles and ages
seperate me and you
from him and those dark times.
It has been a rough road
and barefoot we've
walked every inch.
We've been beggers and
heroes and labor and chore.
The songs of Darwin's finch
and the wheel turning
Twain's riverboat toward shore.
We've been the music of the spheres
impressive in sound but nothing more.
It'd be easier to hope
if it were easier to live.
That's the rub, I guess...
I'll have to give.
I've been thirty-five years
in search of answers
and I just don't know.
It's me verse my inner cynic
in a death match about hope.
But, still one of us must go.

Leviathan / by: butch decatoria



Linger, loiter longer
Leviathan,
These Lovelorn Lanes Fast
with lustful highs …
Fly
Farther, furthest, way Far away
To Starlight
/sweet nothings,
Interstellar sighs
Of space/ time
Feel the Empty / pain / bleed

Except great expectations’ need
To accept, expecting none
(Yet most believe doing nothing)
It’s Not for reflecting / empathy
To tragedy then forgetfulness,
On purpose, disposable friends distract,
Life’s strange viscosity hopefulness
Motions forward….
Oh monstrosity!

Wishful obsessions, stiff upper lip...
The Silent servants’ musk, mask of milk
White cream silk whips
Aftermath of drunken trippin’
The rush of us who trust, slippin’
On the white,  on the hip
               snow man fall melts, drip dry
The poles and hell rains down from on high,
Hush now, The storm hither comes...
Torrential

The colossus of silence beyond
Jupiter’s red eye, Ort cloud shroud—
The yearnings surpassing blood,
To feed
The human gargantuan greed
The need for love…
Soon On sale, flesh compliant
A Commerce for feelings to
        Galvanize
The Giant
        Drowning in his Whale Songs
moonlighting the deep...

Anglerfish
Amidst the pitch of dark sea
Tocold vastness
Go there
That other ocean
   infinite canvas interstellar interstate
             The Void of space,
Deep Emotions pace
Times asleep & awake
            (elsewhere)
Swim my assuaged dreams,
   All of thee: ye
Makers bright,
                Meteorites brief
flash of freefalling lights
Like my hollow heart’s leap:
           Blind,
           But for a feeling,
The monster that I trust.
In the human ocean of emotions.

Leviathan.

fallow moon
lifeless moon
on the rise
over the ocean

we take off our clothes
to dance in moonlight pale

and i lay my shirt
and pants
and her blouse
and skirt
across the sand
and hold her hands
as she flows down
like water

her legs spreading,
an ace high
straight flush
fanned  across
life's gambling  table

and then
the ebb and flow
like the ocean

deep and faster
dancing
to the rhythm of the earth

primordial beasts
we are
organic and carbon
howling at the moon

fallow moon
heartless moon

there s a death that waits
in the pale moon light

Embraced my chaotic waves
My mess after madness and
Braved my sullen storm
Reaching out your hands to
Accept the broken me
Calming my hysteric nerves and
Eagerly sailed along  
Deep in the darker side of me

Mysterious our horizon may be
Even in these surges of uncertainty

My soul felt a different you
Only one who truly understands
Ripples of memories behind, that
Even my dimmest night will end

~
Pieces of this and that

From remember when

It used to be a flowershop

She used to smell of roses

Panting church candles

Now and again

From the quiet corner of absolution

Eyes closed to the dusk of sensualité

In search of lost time

"yearning for a song of reply"
~