#salve
.
*sore is the wound
that rejects
the salve of time*
.
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 9:59 AM UTC
the search for bliss is over
one way or another
epiphany upon her
that leads her into space or underground
how are you doing? what are you up to these days? it’s nice to see you in this most lonesome place
i find that balance is achieved here in silence
or in the constant sound of the subterranean; a train passing afar
love of distant past or pain
the search for bliss is over!
finally over
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
a dissociated sound hums in awkward disharmony
it pleases, presently, not an ear
but nurtures mossy growth across guts of a population
who listen with cult-like enlightenment
when the bass descended with modest fanfare of plucked and buzzing strings
it announced the departure of the invisible figure
that lived where we thought we wanted to be
so long, ruler. it was your time
you had a meaningful life.
now i just want to be alone
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 3:08 PM UTC
and why would it?
expecting something from chaos
knelt on knees, as if words formed silently upon wishful lips
will create the world for you tomorrow
lives are spent
on absolutely nothing
all the time
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 5:42 PM UTC
a pause, rested against the mill hopper
behind the glass of an eye
these empty mornings
climb through a mindful shell- as passes a gust by bare branch
distant looming giants wade freely tantamount to possibilities
in the house of both existence and not
they flow before us like gods
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
i open my windows in October
when i sleep
i am alone
still candle flame through frosted stone
a warm milky glow
& cool crystalline air
these things weave me together
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 8:55 PM UTC
zephyr passes over the shimmering abyss
plots formed from images vacated
it’s what i breathe!
things that flash through my mind:
contemplative lips of a forgotten dancer,
bangs brushed aside,
a glance over shoulder…
~
a spider beckoned me,
to show me the mandala he calls home.
he took what looked to be a deep sigh, and said,
inside and out, we all have gifts
to be given, or shown, or flashed through thoughts.
i asked if he could give me a tour.
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
Based on things I can't predict,
our errors are not all-inclusive;
lines are not perfectly straight
and sometimes there's too much distance between us,
sometimes not enough.
Based on actions I don't yet understand,
survival becomes stalled into a thing called "existing"
I don't know what is flammable in here
but can feel the burning of my own skin,
I am ready to ignite;
some people are cold and that excites me
my secret weakness
I like to bring the warmth
but sometimes it is only enough
to bandage our own wounds;
The art of imitation is a slippery slope,
don't trust me with your secrets, they may too closely echo my own
and when you strike a nerve I might seek out refuge in your pain
I know I am not the first passenger to feel this way.
Based on things I haven't come to terms with yet,
I am beginning to realize the incalculability of our
so seemingly deliberate crossings;
so don't trust me with your secrets,
I apply a honey salve to everything that hurts
and I don't know if you are ready yet
to feel that sweet soothing burn.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
SALVE
pungent and potent
an emollient embrocation.
my sweet succor,
the
salve of my soul
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
promising cloud bands
filled with a moisture salve
veer away from here
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 2:58 AM UTC
Pardon me, I've been thinking
My friend,
what if I could save myself?
Your intoxicating
scent on my neck
has seemed to have kept me
anticipating
my gasping last breath
but, pardon me, I've been thinking
what if I could reach in
through steam in
the mirror
and remove your ******* tongue
so you can't taste me anymore?
If these dreams I keep
really are so sweet, you'll
forgive me for
keeping
the sanctum away from nightmare
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC
poetry, you comforting solace!
balm, on the chapped lips of cracked hearts,
soothing salve on the conscience of guilt
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:25 AM UTC