Erik McKee Sep 4
Here is the quiet interrogation of God by the burning bush:    

     For what good is God's majesty vested in a shrill Jeruselum?
     The cleft sea of night and knighthood escaping from the reverie of
     history's eager nest of downy heaven.
     The very womb of life nestled in the gushing billows of your
     grace and power, awaiting the sign of men.

And He answers:  
     The wayward nature of life necessitates freedom of choice.
     The infinitude of my word is but a muttering of Their spirit.
     For in their wakeful and dreary day lies the potentiation of
     my longing, of my need for finitude.

The bush looks on, smoldering.
Erik McKee May 6
Rio Grande Valley Grapefruit
Straight from the citrus groves

I offered up my innocence
The men came out in droves

And from the buttered palm trees
The letter cleft her cheeks

As the tears followed swiftly after
Forming tracks as her bitterness leaks  

     And the staining of the fruit's oil
     As it rubs against my palm

     Did nothing to staunch the bleeding
     Or instill a marriageable calm
Erik McKee Apr 25
I see you dancing in the moonlight a ha
And it is quite a lovely scene

Those lovely lights  they rain above you a ha
And I turn back to the canteen

My hands they're worn like my leather a ha
Won't you please come back with me

And your eyes are blue
Yeah your eyes are blue
Erik McKee Apr 12
My love in the corner, with a hole in his heart
     Even when with him, I still feel apart

Each night by my bedside he stands, a sentry
      Warding off the world's ego, the gentry

Some days he'll come out, and we'll sing a nice tune
     "Farewell. I don't give a damn." sang the sun to the moon
Erik McKee Apr 12
My body is rigid
     when it is against yours

There is no flow of blood
     nor yearnings of heat

Just a topography
     of stone and bone and rubble
Erik McKee Apr 3
Seated at my desk, with a song in my heart~
Since the day I left you and my soul came apart ~

If I were King, and you were Queen~
Then damn we'd make quite a sight on the scene~

My wrong, your right~
My song, your fight~

People woudn't glance, they'd stare~
As the light danced in your quivering hair~

And I'd be staring too...
Because honey, my world begins and ends with you.
Erik McKee Apr 1
In that arbitrary sunrise can be seen the fruits of my labor:

A washed out painting of a deranged panic beast,
The ashen limbs of a salivating curse fire, obsessed with trinkets,
An elliptical cycle of recurring memory that plagues me~and it's a Face.  

But for whom was I laboring, if not for the quotient of society?

Is it right to plague me with worries of another's love,
Or to expect me to spike that love across the court of romance,?
Does it give you something to work with, something to remember Me by, or is it enough to break your spirit with my callousness?

I'm sure you'll remember that, because I do, and I'm like stone.

A pair of sea-blue eyes; a swimming pool.

Unnatural facade~
Not a mirage, but still unpalatable
Clean, but unsavory
My humor like chlorine ~ absolute poison.
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