I am a cobra,
spiraling upwards.
Curling and slinking.
I am a cobra;
dangerous.
fangs dripping,
head dipping
lower
and lower
and lower.
Until I break up
and tilt my
forward.
Forked tongue
slips out.
I hiss away
all my doubt.
Folding my lanky, tall body
to fit my lengthy  personality.
I am a cobra,
and I do a sultry dance.
I will not shake or dodge or prance.
I linger after every thought,
slip my way into the cold spongy grey tiled dance floor
until you cannot see me anymore.
I am a cobra,
you’d better watch out.
Sparkling white scales,
they shimmer softly in the moonlight.
A young
destroyer of worlds,
I take over the floor
and curl inwards,
then up,
then lift my floppy head
bristled all about.
I smile and sway,
then lick up the blood.
I am a cobra,
(so you’d better watch out).

as my body lies breathing in deep slumber a dream arrives in the reaches of my mind i awake i look to the end of the bed a snake sits there staring back at me the silver serpent disappears beneath the sheet i felt not a thing it slithered and when i finally threw off that sheet which blocked my view of this serpentine intruder and stood i saw nothing i look down and a glimmer catches my eye the snake was around my waste biting its own tail then i awoke standing in bed puzzled at weather what i had just seen was real or just that of a dream

sadness.
twisting and coiling its way,
around my frail heart.
sending its deep poison in
through its jeering fangs.

it numbs me.

sweet numbness,
take me away,
to the valley of all things
unfeeling and
uncaring.

i want to know no strength
i want to feel no pain.

sweet poison,
infiltrate my heart,
make me numb.
i am nothing but dead to the world.

because that is what dead people do.
they open a void that ***** people in,
wrapping their hands in chains of gloom.
they cry for help,
beg for mercy.

fools.
wasting their time.
the numb don't feel anything.
only a cold that spreads
through their body
like a virus,
or some sort of
disease.

spreading through them,
filling their arteries and veins,
until they are numb,
like the cold, grainy sands of the earth
they are numb.
they feel nothing.

sweet snake of sadness,
send your venom.
straight to the heart,
send it quick.

for before death,
there is always a great sadness.

but is death ideal?
do i want to eternally
wander the earth waiting for
the mystical hosanna to call us
all for our last judgement?

is death the only means of permanent numbing known?
i mean, there are drugs.
but do they last?

do we last?

what effect do we leave
on this coccoon,
this shell,
of protection called earth?

what do we leave?
do we leave hatred,
unsettled feelings,
and people in chains of sadness?

or do we leave a sunflower?
a sign of hope, peace.
a sign of looking towards the brighter light?

You have joined forces with my frenemies,
you have just destroyed our genesis,
you have become a total nemesis.

I thought you were a friend,
but you have been stabbing me right at the back.
I would have never guessed that there could have ever been an end,
but now i know how much you were fake.

That smile,
dear snake,
you kept crawling in the bushes,
but now you crawl on the eroided plateu,

i have seen your moves from afar,
stay away!
you keep on looking at me with those eyes filled with evil,
you trained to become wicked,
i am not surprized that you using your skills against me too.

Snake skins
slough-off

in the dark
- each

  the friction of living

Tired body aches. Long walk on starry night -
ears attuned for bear at creek, or cougar.
Nothing, not a doe.
                                    But that afternoon
came upon a healthy young buck in a meadow.
High up. And a hawk left a feather for me.
Old, old stands of lodgepole pine, grey bark
like wrinkled hides of elephants. Thick carpet
of dead needles.
                              Thirst. Sit at snowbank
for an hour eating snow. Burn tongue.
To soon after stumble upon a pond and the place
that a creek springs from the mountain. Water
indescribable. Eat ravenously and drink deep
gulps.

Climb highest rocky peak at dusk. Razor-back
ridge. Mother hawk scream nearby. Must
backtrack and then go straight down near dark
feet fall through layers of scrub pine, hands
grab for the live stalks only support against
broken bone.
                          Choose steep narrow bed of loose rocks,
surely waterfall in some other season and descend
on *** and all fours, feet first always fearful
it will end in an uncontrollable hundred foot drop.
Trickles of water nearing bottom.
                                                         ­  Cracked hands, raw
behind, cross final snowbank and attain road
along Snake Creek.

The snaking sensation
starts in my toes
leaving my feet cold
from its icy veins.

It tightens
at my stomach
turning my food into
knots of venomous irritation.

One slither more
will bring it to my chest,
where it strangles me
lifeless.