Ossa Putrescere

Ossa Putrescere Apr 2013

stay afloat
                                         try to
        Just--
                                          no matter
                                                                                                       how easy it appears
                   to

                                       *Sink.

Ossa Putrescere Apr 2013

There's Nothing on TV

in the hum of the tv, in a place as if it could be our company
there is a silent emptiness in a paled light,
a vacancy found only in a stark dead man hanging on the rope
that he could once hold onto so tightly

where the hum of the tv is bluntly buzzing,
no words really filtering;
in a silence with blurry contrasting

Things that fill the empty space
are white lines shaded in
slow and
heavy

darkness.

my tiredness seems to sleep
in heavy breaths that cannot sooth me
breaths that keep the tv turning.

the sun could rise so easily,
but it's too tired from watching too much tv

Ossa Putrescere Apr 2013

Sunken Breeze

She was like the wind;
the only way she could have been seen
was by looking at the way she affected gentle things

Ossa Putrescere Apr 2013

Old friend

oh what a beautiful friend
death then seemed to be

as the stars cannot shine for my eyes
as the night cannot shield daylight

as sleep could not take everything away

as day never refuses to exile night in dismay
as the sun could not help the wilted flower,

as the child holds its moans from its mother
as the mother takes the broken flower,
and cradles it gently across her palm,
hymning
he loves me,
he loves me not,

death loves me,
loves me not;

loves me,
loves me not,

loves me,
loves me n-

Ossa Putrescere Apr 2013

Linger

a figure,
a person,
a beautiful creature stands;
towering over you with a delighted, but distraught grin tipped at the ends of each cheek he holds
something more valuable carved in his hands in great attempt for discreet
but he is behind you, always
you turn only to feel his presence lingering for a tiring, taunting second
a pained, dried inhale
a relieved, steady exhale
but the breath is not returned as yours
maybe you can ask him to linger in your tender air
and stay, slowly swaying against his breath,
but you could let him fly instead;
instead of brushing through broken, braided ties of your hair

Ossa Putrescere Mar 2013

Is it really floating?

floating                           floating                           floating

thinking about
d
    r
          o
                 w
             n
     i
g

but not moving one   i n c h.

Ossa Putrescere Mar 2013

One Little Birdy

One little birdy
lifts scarlet to spring’s roses and its final tired flowers,
stretching across the silent solemn night gently
with both hands reaching forward,
grappling upwards.

One little birdy,
arms stretched wide
gathering deep blue seas falling out the sky.

One little birdy,
arms stretched far out too wide
drowns in hopes of the ocean greeting a goodbye.

One little birdy stuck in a cage

One little birdy
with widespread wings

sitting alone.
Dreaming of wind.