Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Damali Aug 2014
ONE button--"I am free!"
TWO buttons--"Look at me!"
THREE buttons--"Here I go!"
FOUR buttons--"Take it slow!"
FIVE buttons--"I'm alive!"
SIX buttons--"I will strive!"
SEVEN buttons--"I must survive!"
EIGHT buttons--"This is great!"
NINE buttons--"No more hate"
TEN buttons now put back on your shirt and go to bed.
879 · Aug 2014
Dear Moon
Damali Aug 2014
My condolences, dear Moon
For your fitful, fretful nights
For your sadness in the day time
When you vanish in the light
And I especially regret that you should have to follow me
For you are the Moon, and I, just a tree.
535 · Aug 2014
Mermaids
Damali Aug 2014
Teeth
Sharp like razors
Cut me
Melted down to glass
And shells
And dust
I am like sand
And you are like me
Experiencing subjectively
The qualia of life and things
Mermaids spitting
Blood and syrupy iced tea
Rusted metal wires
Wrap around and
Touch me
I dream in black
And in white
Of smoke and cars
Leave behind marks
I used to think were scars
But now I know are works of art
Don't touch me
Don't you know that I could snap your neck
I may not
My veins are filled with gold
My mind is made from
Stars
I am a creature
Made from bits of ocean
Teeth melted down
Into glass
Like razors
Cut me.
387 · Aug 2014
The Family of Dust
Damali Aug 2014
The family of dust, and bones, and rain
Of life, and love, and start over agains
Of the terrible things that bring us together
Of starlight dreams that last forever.
376 · Nov 2016
Gooey
Damali Nov 2016
Is this love?
The sun inserts itself
Into his dark red slit
And lets its golden light onto
His dark green shirt.

The jungle floor is wet today.
The space between its soil
Soaks your clothes--
The wound
Writhes with worms;
The wind screams in pain or ecstasy.

Is this ***?
You’re too young to know.
Barely a man.
Barely alive.

The Sun inserts itself
And you scream “NO.”
You’re on your knees.
You’re pressing it closed.
You’re closing the space.
You’re crying.

You’re not supposed to cry, you know,
For men you do not love.

Do you love your comrade?
Near Incestuous, they say,
Earth caressing Earth.
“Brother” caressing “Brother”
--You know it isn’t right
The way the sun still shines.
Mosquitoes still gorge themselves
On dewey wet skin fruit,
Still whisper slurs and violence
In your brain.

He’s spilling through,
And his arteries like pink sap trees
Squirt rosy colored leaves
Onto your trembling fingers.

Your friend
Is waiting open for you in the underbrush
Like a flower blossoming
In war or Spring.
His pollen stains your hands red.
The sunlight stains the red gold.
Too open,
Blurring the line between inside and out.
Muscle touching black skin touching black roots
Touching cavernous black hole mammoths
Up in heaven.

The sky and the skin
Drip into each other,
Fuse into each other,
--Gooey oblivion.
Kiss with tongue and fit so well
You can’t tell where his body ends.
And when they’re done He covers Him.
Into starlight ascends.

You love
Your friend.
348 · May 2015
Durst
Damali May 2015
Saw dust
In my mouth
Sandpaper tongue
Face pulled back so tight that I
Find it difficult to breathe
And water, so pure
So clean and bright
It beckons
I need water, my soul begs
For that which soothes my dry and burning lips
That rage with fire when I pull the glass away
And inhale its frozen, arctic winds
The feeling of white snow
That kisses the palms of my hands
Melting
Funny, it does not taste as water should
Not as beautiful as I remember
Not as slow
As it slides down my throat
Lacks the patience to spread throughout my chest
And fill my shriveled lungs
To cool the blood that pulses hot
Like the sun against my barren, desert skin
No longer does it bring a chill to my soul
But instead leaves a burden on my empty stomach
A block of the darkest and coldest ice
That sits inside of me to freeze
My dull brain
And my throat screams in protest as I take another,
Bigger gulp
That threatens to burst my neck open at the seams,
But still I swallow, because I must
And leave the glass in the sink,
Half empty,
Almost empty
And turn the faucet on.
Damali Aug 2014
I want to be free of my skin and my bones
No longer burdened by tingling toes
I want to feel the wind through my soul
I want to go where no mortal can go.
263 · Aug 2014
Untitled
Damali Aug 2014
They say that she fell from the sky
As heroes often do
Bringing with her words of wisdom as the stars went out
And you
You cried to yourself at night
Cried "What is the point of it all?"
And as your family succumbed to the darkness
You heard her siren call
"The point is this, dear child," she sang
The sun emblazoned on her chest
"The crying out loud in the night
The living and the dead.
For you and I are one
And the universe is we
And though I cannot save you, creature
You may still save me."
You thought she was beautiful
Her voice so deep like space and stars
Her hair so big and curly brown
Her skin so pretty dark
Her eyes that glowed like nothing
That was ever seen before
She wore thick armor made from wood
But cold and metal to the touch
It hummed beneath your fingers
A soothing, buzzing hush
"Listen now, remember me
Listen to my song
I cannot save you
For you
Have been safe all along
Remember me, remember
For I cannot tell you lies
Remember me dear child
And join me when you die."
Glittering away, she cried
Her features melting into light
You could feel it in your bones
You shuddered with delight
The stars are going out tonight
The sun is growing dim
Heroes falling from the sky
Are burning from within.

— The End —