have you heard the cries of angels
as they plead to their kind,
begging to be freed of all the myths
that tie them down to brothels?

systematic anchors of the dark—
they scream until their throat tears apart,
asking to be let out, to be led free,
their body and their minds.
razor-sharp agony running through their veins—
is it gold or is it silver?
is it even blood that runs,
or mere glitter?

their eyes are painted red,
claws sharpened to push off the dread.
they wipe away and break themselves,
shouting to the blind,
always being left behind.

the angels of the nights—
they guard and they protect,
giving and resting, breaks at the harbors,
washing away like they've caught rabies.

maybe it's a society's flaw that they carry:
plastered smiles and pearly teeth.
they gnaw at the necks
of the ones who made them merry.

look what you've done to the divine,
asking to be met with pure versions.
you slid down venom through kisses,
lying in the quiet stillness,
making and breaking promises.

haunting, taunting, daring, breaking—
incredibly, they are
fierce protectors of all the devotees.
preached them, should have.
it's too late to place gifts filled with apologies.

now, if they're after your life,
who shall, but you, complain?
you were warned.
wanted, you've become.
the angels long since died—
now they disguise,
plotting in the depths of your despair.
they'll paint you black and blue,
like you did in their nightmares.

deconstructed the symbolism,
rage-baited all the monsters.
it's the seven sins against one virtue.
feral, i call upon—your turn to plead not guilty.
bask in the unprovided mercy,
for peace from violence lasts only long enough.
soon, you shall meet the ruin—
the unholy, brutal, almost forgiving,
built upon the humane exorcism.

It started with a kiss.

A burn of acid across my cheek,
It's poisoned implication:
"Here, this is the woman you seek."

It followed with thirty pieces,

The weight cumbrous in hand.
Your wine and bread so exquisite,
Suddenly fell flat, turned to sand.

It climaxed with Damascus,

Truth a blinding light across my eyes.
I'd betrayed all I am for silver,
Cheered as you shaped my demise.

It ended with a field of blood.

My innards spilled onto the ground,
Blooded hands foraging:
"I was lost but now I'm found."

Emotion bottled and shaken
to the point of explosion,
Risking a state of total destruction
With the simple rising of a raging white cap,
Twisted by the stormy hands of inner turmoil.

Slapping waves of reaction
Against mountains of addictive distraction,
Causing one an internal Mexican standoff,
Presenting a decision, diamond in the rough:

Raise the white flag of resistance.
Offer yourself some relief assistance,
Breathing in a meditative manner,
Setting a slow releasing standard,
Steadily releasing emotional pressure
In a controlled state of measure;
Or
Find yourself dead on the floor,
Having exploded in an internal combustive roar,
Because you fought to hold in the building Pressure.
Attempted cognitive deconstruction,
Neglected yourself thriving construction,
Fearing your own atomic reaction
to the explosive emotional canter.

Either choice resulting in emotional disruption...
Eruption,
But only one in total annihilation.

-Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020

The pasture lays abandoned
The barn is bare
The fields grown overripe
Fences lay fallen
Roads returning to dirt
Not a single tool lifted
Nor a single human whimper
Nay a cry from any creature
Had been heard for many eons
And one may wonder
Of the perished and of paradise
For Earth lay singing
While all else is silent
And some long for music
And some long for quiet
And all long for something
And some long without knowing
And some long for things long gone
And some long just to go along with others longing
And some are just so winded from being long winded in longing
So longings lengthen,
Filling us to the brim with hollow wants
And this perfect paradox becomes
Pandemic

Dismantle your convictions
Break them beyond recognition
Into the smallest parts imaginable
For those fragments of atoms
Build us up.

the bottle twists
glass falls in drifts
and air parts like flesh

there’s a terror beneath this city
trucks enter from out of town and shake the power lines
passing without pause

sometimes birds gather for days
chirps grow exponentially
before tailing into silence;
heather and brimstone
little bodies roll to the edges
and burst on the streets in red regalia

a somnolence keeps the city forgetful
time flows in fits
a streetlamp; a raven; ten gravestones
it all runs without moving

vessels dilate
hands hold themselves

there’s nothing to breathe with
an empty chalice, turned on the hour grants
heaving clenching writhing
an ocean of rust
bulb shatters, blood spills out her
mouth cave head turn faith
the world remakes itself
*******
the colour of sunflowers
bicycle chains
thirst
colonialism
wet paint

emptiness over emptiness
act without agent
lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack
peel the flesh and find flesh
always more flesh
don’t stop they know better
chirp chirp chirp
turn
exit
substance
purpose
nothing