Draining pools of blackened filth
Tiny pockets amass
An ocean of sludge to horizons end
Stone heart is cast away
Descends to the bottom

New blood bursts forth
Seeps into empty spaces
Mortar for the soul
In this wounded way
Ascend to begin again

I know you are here by
the crack
of your palm on
my cheek,
by the sting of
our sweat.
The second slap tugs at
my skin
with the stick of
the gin.
You scream through
the heat,
above the ambient rumble
of souls,
the unholy truth of
it all
spat with the cadence
of hate.
The cackled delights of
the night
and this pitiless death in
the streets.
The horror of your bones on
my bones.
I can still hear the muffled
bass beat
and the staircase-crashing
of feet
as you carve the word 'shame' in
my skin.
There is hope in
your hate
as you cry out
my crimes.
There is hope in
my pain
as old futures implode, and
this life
is replaced by something
quite new.

she was sat along a lake of doom
and along came the seasonal tune
the whisper of winds and the goodbyes to bloom
the smell of green, gone and the opening of tombs
high Heaven could not beat this bounty of earth
the beauty in the way things die and rebirth

they die every day
only to be reborn in the morning,
rising like a phoenix
from the ashes of their deaths.

a fresh start,
a clean slate,
a new beginning
in a new body
with a new heart.

no matter how many
tears are shed,
no matter how many
lines they cut into their skin,
tomorrow will always be
a new day.

no podía comer por días
mi hambre desapareció
cuando tus ojos me despidieron

hay un desierto en mi estómago
vacío
lleno de aire
aire que me ahoga
no me deja hablar
no me deja comer

en la mañana me hice un pan
pan tostado
cafe con leche

me sente en la mesa
la luz cayendo sobre mí
en mis ojos, en mis manos

toque el vaso
estaba caliente
pero no sentía nada

el sol no entraba a mi piel
el calor de la taza tampoco

pálida, llena de aire
respirando

la sangre en mis venas se hizo aire
mi corazón, aire
las manos que antes te tocaban, aire

no se si existo

no se si algun día
la sangre de mis venas regresará

no se si alguna día
el fuego de mi alma, de mi corazón
aderá

quizás un día si
un fuego más grande
más poderoso
ardiendo para mi sola
y nadie más

nacido de las cenizas
como la primera semilla de la primavera

renacido como el ave
quemando, intocable

una nueva vida
sin ti
una nueva vida
por mi

The season’s haughty train
Trails behind, decadent,
Pretending.
Unrelenting trials
Have gone by and
Are now most mercifully
Ending.
The jaundiced jewel fixed
At noon's height had
Shown its light too glaring,
Its blinding core
Creating warmth too wearing.
That languorous season,
An oppressive array,
Which over-weights our shape;
We were low and bowing but
With no trace of fealty, no
Chance of escape.

Long
Have these searing hours
Draped us in a sweaty quilt.
Time like a heavy cloak,
Days like the burden of guilt.
Summer’s scorn spit out as
Stabbing taunts and a
Savage lash of indictment.
We were exposed to its unblinking,
Unforgiving regard,
Its cruel cast
Driving all to mad
Incitement.

Now, slowly…
How silently,
So kindly,
The atmosphere shifts,
Swirling the lightness
Of graceful leaves,
Blending into a lifting wave
With soft whispers of a new day.
The night clears to hear our
Secluded prayers, spoken in shade.
Sleep drifts ghostly,
Our drunken slumber, in
Chambers blackened.
But the sober morning
Welcomes us calmly,
Quietly, like a forgiving friend.

Suddenly, a gracious change brings
The soul’s cool rebirth!
The dome above us
Deepens its complexion, from
Raging red to azure mirth;
The choking white smoke,
A miasma of grim gas,
Melts away and
Yields to cheering
Hearth fires!
Sparks stirring ambient hopes
Of familial bonds.
Familiar sensations fill
The empty places with
The forgotten mists of home!

A fleeting presence draws near,
Extending an invitation to a peace
That is eternal, and
Offered forever freely:
Dreams and revelations awaken --
Recalled as a mother’s love,
Or a child’s laughter, pealing!  
This refreshing phase brings
Enchantment in thoughts of home;
The source of all our growing,
With often vexed comings and goings.
A place I left so long ago,
So far out of the
Reach of my heart, still roaming.

Sage, solemn autumn,
That itinerant interval,
Arrives
As a pilgrim, bearing simple treasures;
Tokens to trade from our past
We feared were sure sorely lost –
Nevermore to be embraced.

With this goodly turn of fate,
Many precious things
Are gladly recovered,
Given with warm hands, lifted
Up in a seasonal thanks.
With autumn spirits
Wafting up,
Swirling around our hearts,
Eternal,
To the chilled, open sky.