Spring lasted especially long this week.
I
danced alongside the tall grass,
wondered about butterflies breathing the same air as me,
competed with the rays of sunshine.

But even in spring, there were storms.
I knew it would end.

So, who's next in line?
Autumn? Winter? Summer?

Winter.
It was pitchblack.
The night came too soon.
                   So I threw my ashes into the fireplace
                   and it lit up the room for a little while.

Autumn.
I saw red
eyes like autumn leaves.
Last night
                  I couldn't fall asleep,
                  so I held a candle to the devil.

Summer.
I heard myself breathe.
My palms shouldn't slip out of what I was holding on to.
                  and sweat shouldn't taste like metal.
                  I.....

I tasted metal and I SAW
RED
It watched me rearrange everything in my room
but nothing was put in place.
                   Clothes weren't the only thing that were folded
                   and these creases I wear on my skin couldn't be ironed out.

The blizzard took everything away.
It was pitchblack
I swear I saw myself in the mirror,
but I wasn't there.
                   And I swear you were there,
                   but I wasn't.

I breathed.
Tried to do so quietly.
Not wishing to leave any footprints in the sand,
                  I ended up bringing a shoe full of sand home.
                  That night,
I watched the sandcastle I build crumble into thin air.

IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where am I?
I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. Stop breathing.
I SAW RED. There's a hole in the wall shaped like a fist.
I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I can't look into your eyes.
IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where is everyone?
I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I'm sorry.
I SAW RED. I saw blue too
                       I watched the tides wash the bones I used to carry
                       and the skin I used to wear
                       away every night.

Red. Pitchblack. Breathe. Pitchblack. Pitchblack. Red. Breathe. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I'm sorry.  BREATHE. BREATHE. BREATHE.

I watched the seasons change against the sun's will.
I waited
               for the calm after a storm.

I wished for them to stop.

I do not want spring, summer,  autumn, or winter
                         Just give my skin and my bones

**back to me.

i
this parody of life beyond
a roaring loom of time
like an embrace
momentous
through the battled equinox of chance
the stirrings and strivings
born of earth and sky
toil, whine, whimper, moan
wait and tremble, hope and pray
then
the clear shining after rain
we sail the lifetide
on leaky bottoms
never to sight dry land again

                   ii
behind
        the shards and wrecks
       of innocent vagaries
       of wayward plunges
       that flee the point
beside
       unobserved but observing
       a sentient mould of slime
       raddled
       at break-neck hurry
before
       is wrinkled wisdom
       mellow laughter
       a hand-made unborn
      of a callow womb
hereafter is ever
now is gone by
past is prelude

                  iii
snowwhite or pitchblack
       lowly or lofty
       free-born or fettered
       yearling or aging

      worms shall feast
      upon thy flesh  
      to elements irreducible
      and in thy nakedness
      come face to face
      with thy maker

Majestically under the ominous, dark clouds,
The rain pours over the Earth, moistening it in a hard, then gentle way as each drop, each body of water sinks into the bottom, vanishes,
With a rythm, each follow a purpose, a goal they want to reach.
Fertilising the earth after a drought, letting life grow out of light after those dark clouds make room for the golden light of the rising sun.
Let them be distorted, these drops of cheer, sadness, happy thoughts and agony, carried by the rough storms of an autumn afternoon.
Hitting the window, they display their tune with their delicate figure,
In harmony with the wistling wind and the growling of the sinister thunder the orchestra of nature reaches it's peak in this sensation.
The sky is pitchblack, yet crossed by lightnings every now and then,
Providing a lightshow, which might be a bit too dangerous to be around, for the music of nature, dancing, swaying across the clouds,
What is it that makes this silly storm catch my attention so much ?
Perhaps, the song of the lonesome rain when everyone escapes in order to not get soaked, is what truly touches my heart.
Because there is no one outside to listen to it.

~ Umi

One night, one evening
Girl, scared
O’re the toilet she’s heaving

Ok
Refrain
Another shot
On the way
Methane
*******
Ecstasy in her, broke veins
Insane
Propane
She puts down the bottle to find her
Left brain
Mundane
How to drown out
This pain
This pain

Her thought train
Now just an empty track
Please Father I pray
Give this girl her life back

Hey but,
This time around
She’s gonna be alright
This time around
She’s gonna put up a fight
This time around
She’s ready to ignite
Yea this time around
She’s gonna get it right

Sayin’

This time around
She’s gonna be alright
This time around
She’s gonna take it to the heights
This time around
She’s ready to rewrite
Yea this time around
She’s gonna get it right

Comeback
Icepack
She’s feeling around
Pitchblack
Missed that
Take a deep breath
Fill her air sack
Kickback
Relax

Stop time
Rewind
To the gods above
She whined
But they could only sit there and laugh
At the suffering of their favorite little handicraft

One second
from a blast
From the past
“Why me” she would ask
She would ask
Agast
Harassed
Daddy put his hand on her back
Abashed
She lashed
Against the bed
roughcast

Night after night
And day after day
Their little secret
Would never ever walk away

Down the street
Watch her feet
Clippings on the concrete
Retreat
So sweet
Calm her little heartbeat
Repeat safe
Repeat scared
Find comfort in ******* on her hair

Get away from him
Get away from them
She ain’t never gonna go back again
She’s on her own now
It’s up to her
Mindset switch
Emotional transfer

Ain’t nothing but a reflex you see
Little girl grown up
She drinks away reality

We met for coffee; well,
I had coffee and she had tea.
Her pics didn't do her justice --
Chin prim
Lips cursive
Skin that swam under mine,
Making the porcelain creamer cup blush.

She claimed
she had a quarter million members
That followed her.
it's good money she reasoned,
But not gloating;
More matter-of-factly.
Off the cuff,
I asked for her stage name.
She explained that she blocked NY
For work and family reasons,
Assuming I had asked so to
Watch her perform later
(Which isn't altogether untrue).

She measured every utterance,
Teleprompters behind eyelids
Feeding her perfectly crafted lines.

I use the Golden Ratio when I webcam
She said, as she sipped her tea.
I consider it an art -- or
At least that is what I tell myself.
I asked her to elaborate.
She said she was somewhat conflicted
About whether or not it was immoral.
But she was so even
With her response,
Almost as if it were compelled
By a formality
That was now checked off her list.

Her body language taciturn
Asleep, idle, screen-saved
Waiting waiting

Curve and line
Coffined for now to slake desires anon -
Her numbers in slumber, confined
Waiting to be crunched,
Flatlines Animated by pitchblack revelry
With one click

Turning them.

She said she liked to watch others
ya know, To see how they move.
She would even watch it at work,
Open in one of her browser tabs.
She took notes.

Lines triangulated
Liminal spaces given, hidden.

Digital lipstick smears
Tattooing amygdalas firing --
Allow them to slip in
Only to slip out of them
With an X.

We talked for an hour
And then left the café.
She asked me over.
I said not tonight --
The words coming out
As if willed by something
Outside of myself.

She walked off into the dark
And I kicked myself for saying no.

Her curves beholden to math --
Gyration of hip and waist,
Arms tendrils configuring, cavorting,
Slave to an inner-whorl
twirled and twirling --
One single objective truth, now
A convergence of secreting plurality
Into beauty and beauty and

That night I ****** off thinking of her
And came so hard
I pulled something in my back.

In between sleep and waking life
I transcended
Something.. I felt

Turned.

Bat on window sill
Still as the unflinching
Lidless abyss --
Then a quarter turn of its head --
Its beady eye catching streetlight --
Careening it off into a nonplussed
Night of nights.

Colorful

He didn't know they cared.
His lost self is drowning.
Alone in the world he dared,
To look at it all frowning.

He felt like a horse in the water
looking at the light.
He was never seen by his mother.
Gave up because of the fright.

For all this time he was alone.
No one wanted to see him cry.
For all the failures he saw his own.
And wished the world goodbye.

Gulped into a wirlpool of menkind.
Dark, pitchblack at the end of the light.
Nothing he could ever find.
Nothing could make him fight, at least not with all his might.

His idols are weak, and chose to walk on highways.
His family never blinked an eye.
No one could count all those days.
Were he kept asking himself why.

He was a wrong soul in his own life.
He did not belong in this fase.
Lied who he was and took the dive.
As if he was the only one in his race.

Those who follow me will die, he said.
So I will live on my own from now.
But life is not living while dead.
And he greeted his crowd with a bow.

His colours match mine.
That is what scared me the most.
Only I pretend to be fine.
While he saw more and overdosed.

What colour is it, that tangled our lifelines?
Will I meet my colour soon?
I hope it's bright, I hope it shines.
I hope it is the blue of the moon.

Or the pink of a lily.
The yellow of a bumblebee
Oh no, don't look at it silly.
It's not just the colours you see.

Whatever colour it is, it's not shown by the mirror.
We will never see what we carry.
All we will ever see is error.
We hate dispair, yet discard the merry.

He met the horse and the kid.
He was swimming in his own memory.
The thick liquid paint stuck on the lid.
He never even got to say sorry.

Let's paint the world with you and me.
Family, friends, that girl across the street
And for the first time, it's his colour I see.
My colour gave me the chance to meet.

And suddenly, everyone cared
All eyes were fixed on him.
Aknowledged what he had beared.
Everything changed on a whim.

The happy feeling of sorrow.
The delight of burning alive.
Because there's always tomorrow.
It's never too late to strive.

And with pain he said the kid goodbye.
He took the horse along.
He never again doubted why.
Suddenly falling didn't feel wrong.

For he fell and I fell.
And we both stood up on our feet.
We're all good and well.
Ready to start sketching on a new sheet.

What colour is it I wear.
Is it bright and prone?
I claim to have much to bear.
But I was never really alone.