Limos off the road,

stripes of gloss paint in the dust –


write how it has been.

I stare at graves
and the autumn leaves
that fall,
as my envy
for decay
consumes me.

Anger, hate, rage
Bleeding black
Numb heart
Great hole
Engulfing my soul

Sadness, death, decay
Hardness remains
Heavy breathing
Slowing pulse
Alone, shallow grave

Calm, peace, hope
Ray of light
Breaks night
Like sun on dew
Evaporates the black

saved a soul
I am back.

© sd greene  6/15/17

Brisk bones bend in the wind,
           as frail memories
fall beneath me.

Every one in a moment of decay.

No longer apart of me,

  but a skeleton figure

                         of a past,
brighter and full of life.

If today,
To grow
We must destroy
If to feast
We must parasite
Or to plant seeds
We must plow down

I'll gladly sit a moment
In sweet sunlight
And soak her up sat still,
For once.

Timeworn,
"she was weeping, banally, in the moonlight"

We, in some strange power’s employ, move on a rigorous line

Our thoughts broadcast in reverse of linear time

Laying down fresh electric cable so our minds can again spin webs and half-eaten threads

To stand ready for launch from
Cape Canaveral

Young astronauts, and cultural fallout, spun in exhilarating swirl of places and vividly half-described incidents

Experiments explored in zero gravity

Starlight, starbright
first time I apogee tonight

Impaled upon the high temples of Min
flowered in the sun

A collective come undone

Circumferencing quicksand
as worlds tilting badly off-center

In the death ovens  
they go spiraling down into driftglass

the tree grew in rocky soil -
now its fruit is decaying.
its seeds fell into
the same rocky soil,
sprouting into trees
with the same decaying fruit.

these trees feel the decay.
they know to spread their seeds
where the soil is fertile.
and the resulting trees
will bear ripe fruits
for future generations.