when you left,
I heard your voice each night

days, weeks droned on, and
your words became more faint

on the anniversary of your passing,
you came to me only in murky dreams

sound, it seems, is as impotent there
as it is in deep space

will another revolution around the sun
make you vanish for good

will I be there with you, wedded to black,
listening without ears

to creation's eternal command for coughing carbon
to return to dust

will there again be an us, in that place
where nothing escapes,

save wondrous waves that whisper
the ghostly story of our demise

This peace you offer
Pinioned prayers and platitudes
Scry in the mercury shattered
Your brittle whispers snap in the rarified air

This madness is thunder at the back of my throat
Ragged and storm weary
I tread water in your wake
Spin my tahrihim and trim the fringe
I am the terminus of fragile breath
Falling away from you

Benedicimus Deum meum adventum et egrediente
There is solace in the blind blue moments
Let me surrender
To the baptism of despair
The upwelling catechism of deliquescence

Souls fall clutching the flesh
Gasping for one more shredding dream
Fill the spinnaker and set sail

I am no longer a seaworthy vessel
This tethered hope you offer
Stinging nettles in my mouth
On flitting wings
Is the drone of hornets in my hair

I crave
Oblivion
And you are bound to your promise
It is my free will

To let go...

06/12/12
TL Boehm

God bless my coming and my going out
*melt away/decay

from a eulogy, by a poet, of a poet:

she rewinds the years for the dead

to a time he sat around a campfire with the ancient ones, singing,

"old songs written by broken men in love with their own vanishing nature..."

and it hits me, I am now among their ranks

proudly proclaiming, I am Natan Lupan, the grey wolf

yet seeing more a shivering coyote in morning's mirror

no noble howl to greet the day, but scripting what I will say,

to a world of faces, without whose feigned graces,
I would be put out to pasture

they see the white beard, the thinning mane, and wonder why I am still among them

then they decide where to go to lunch

without me, but I do not lament this loss

broken sons, long lost lovers, buried friends, and a Medicare card trump such trivial slights

they know nothing of my pitiable past

nor do they care--they weren't there
when my Elysian dreams and grandiose schemes
were born, and died

now a darkness approaches, and I fear I face it alone

though a borrowed line reminds me,
others have been there before...

sitting around a fire in the night,
mesmerized by flames that flap gold wings for short flight, then become red embers when men take sleep

when morning's cold ashes are lifted by the wind, I hope the songs we sang will be their celestial waltz

moonshine overflows
from night's infinity pool.
rare are such delights.

Here i now sit beside the river
Awake yet in a deep sleep however
For i am swallowed down by this beautiful mirror

How it opened its mouth and i fell in, down, straight through, untill i saw you
Without a future, without memories
You sweetest creature of my fantasies
Walking like a dancer dangerously

Awake yet wet and in pain
For i am swallowed down by this invisible rain
Unheard comforter that willfuly has to lie
For the river reflects my buried will to die

Words Of Harfouchism

I look and i spread wide
Connection established, i am in your mind

I see lust and lonesome , i understand
I see jealousy and greed , i understand

I am sad. What have become of woman and man?

I don't back down in front of your mediocre thoughts
You lack of soul , you lack of trust

I open my eyes, and i rise
There is only one answer, no need to analyse

It is a vicious network, i am omniscient
I live and capture it, this pure moment

Spending my days aware, i am everywhere
I combine intangible layers

I am here , will you ever notice?


Words Of Harfouchism.

on the shore again,
away from all the lol's, the ***'s
and especially the brb's

because he doesn't want
them to brb, or fret they have
revealed the dreaded TMI

he wants all their cryptic
and crap-tic codes to disappear, to be
erased from memory

and he can again be on
the Pacific, with his dreams and illusions
making tracks between the two

knowing they too will be
washed away at high tide, as evanescent
as an imho or a ***

though not birthed by silicon gods;
created instead from sand between his paws
and washed away by sea and salt