#ferryman
The weight of the world,
has settled at last.
The world shifted on,
as I fell to the past.
I open my eyes,
but they do not obey.
I taste copper in my throat,
and the sweet scent of decay.
I can hear splashing,
so faint it’s a dream.
I can also hear breathing,
and I just want to scream.
My arms will not listen,
when I tell them to lift,
and something is scraping,
with small groaning shifts.
The breathing is closer,
and the breath is so foul.
It’s trying to speak,
but its voice is a growl.
I’m trying to scream,
but my voice is a squeak.
Then my blood runs cold,
as it finally speaks.
“Payment”, it growls,
in a gravely tone.
And then I feel its touch,
and shiver to the bone.
The shape shifts away,
and the weight is now gone.
I open my eyes,
and am blinded by the dawn.
I blink at the figure,
hunched over the oars,
and stare out at the water,
looking for shore.
I want to ask the question,
but then I see his hands.
There’s no doubting the decay,
of the limbo ferryman.
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 4:27 AM UTC
Corded muscles of the neck ferry the voice of sky,
Charon of words adrift in a salivary dislocated sine,
A fracture of breath, the stenciled rowing of a sigh.
Psychopomps of moonlight, past-throated vultures,
Carrion of clouds even if stripped clean in vulpicide,
Even if our scorched and coining tongues tip at stars.
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 8:56 PM UTC
she gathers them up
holding them gently in her arms
there are more every day
like harvesting flowers
pick them when they are in full bloom
she walks barefoot in the fields
in a powder blue dress
big floppy hat to keep off the sun
she gathers them up
and brings them to the boatman at the river
he gives her one of the four coins he collects
for each one he ferries across
to the gates...
the gates....
one bright with golden promise of joy
the other dark and cold...
she hates the sight of the gates....
she wants her flowers to stay the way they are forever
tranquil as life in the country
serene as a sleeping smile...
she walks the battlefield that night
gathering up the fallen soldiers
she is death
come to harvest the late bloom
come to gather the souls for the ferryman
across to the gates of forevermore...
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
The underworld calls
I seek entrance to that invisible realm
The ferryman waves
I saved my coins, but he says my coins are no good in his world, so
He tells me to wait
I hear whispers
The ferryman laughs and the turning waters summon me
Another journey
into darkness
I pay the ferryman
The underworld calls
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 1:56 AM UTC
Lay my body rich with coins
As my dawn turns to dusk I will depart
Bless my soul to be reborn
And pray I keep my heart
Charon waits upon his boat
To carry me to the Otherside
I'll travel The River Styx
And marry time, as I am Waiting's bride
Bearded Ferryman of the dead
Refuse me not as I pay your debt
Tell Hades to lift the gates
For fate and I have met
Guide this monstrous beast
Along the waters spine
As we set off towards Afterlife
Where waits the Underworlds divine
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC