i have been there for every beginning
and this one no different.
i made each particle and each fireball
become lights by the billions,
each breeze and pebble circle in worship
around their motherly heat.
i saw cells surface from seas, stepping sands
and conquering lands, until
the place that had made them began to weep.
they made small gods to be big,
paid to live, invested in togetherness
to break each other apart;
they turned to minds of science and art to see
further, fly the scars away.
but now their feet tread on immortal filth as
parasitic zombies dance
in celebration of mad men and blind
pride for a dying parent
whose suicide, to keep living, is a cure.
what they do is not enough;
not to save the everything they destroyed
nor to take down the true god
they haven't prayed to for generations,
who now starts to shed her skin
of disease-ridden scales and electric smoke.
the people, so little, sit down.
all these silly things i bear witness to,
and at the end i'll be there too.
the titan stares
into the sea;
hands in pockets,
feet bare to rocks,
coat gold and black.
his wrist scars itch.
as birds above
chirp with hunger.
he was the one
who, before thought,
thought to birth us
and paid with pain.
all for nothing.
the fire failed.
the fall is ours.
but his fingers
snap again and
a spark flickers
down the cliff walls,
to light ways out
that’s who he is.
at least, we hope.
nobody sees me,
nobody calls me,
and nobody cares.
these sheep, keep me here.
her bare feet slither through
this garden of trophies:
an army surrendered
to her red gaze. and me:
this old field of rubble
once was my flesh and bone.
explode your throat in noes.
stop me dreaming in halves.
ground me down from any
tiny jump that could catch
your eye - a leap of faith.
yes, he killed her. i can’t.
the color of her eyes
is sincere as the sun,
safe as a strong embrace.
there’s history in them:
you’d tell too from one look.
i… can’t move, i… ok.
the last star i saw is gone from me:
clouds block the rest of the universe.
the fields around are my memories:
tasteless stills lacking in difference.
the songs in my mind call out for ghosts:
invisible loves. ***** dishes.
and yet some gods call me back inside,
asking for words to paint their prayers.
her name caught a question in my throat:
its first utterance barely completed
and i felt her hate engulf my all.
i touch the scars upon her back, still
gold in the lightlessness of her doom,
longing for stripped rainbows - turned to mist.
she’ll forever resent my living
beside her living half. my love for
colors she herself once stood for too.
windows closed watch a mid-twenties hearth.
black petal water - a magic mug
steaming thoughts of real lives yet dormant.
indigo country sounds echo ‘round
a calm silent darkness – dream cabin.
far away, a booming planet sleeps.
the clear fire flickers, expecting
a promised rainbow soul - hers to it.
iris opens her eyes to the flames.
unable to reach
and be innocent.
i wait, expecting
words that can bring my own out.
the wall won’t answer.
clawing at my chest
my fingers, through ribs and flesh
to feel if it’s there.
as love paints my lips,
one thirsty drip down my skin:
the bite mark will heal.
i am not eaten.
no sapient tongues shall miss the
words i will not taste.
in dreams i forget,
the line is fine and steady
and never wobbles.
sport stacking heartbeats
with hazelnut fed ghost hands.
i might as well jump.
race at an arm road;
a full earth bodyquake to
space me out of death.
of the beautiful different,
i cannot endorse.
song lyric eye lock.
movie theatre chair armrest.
as the frost falls from
the tree with timeless triumph,
so my heart is high.
sweet salty pepper
pulses of furious want;
time is no longer.
back to the end of
summers and school innocence,
the sun sets upward.
tower of oceans,
bug golden thriller,
blue denim body,
and old birthday rain.
a butterfly flees
from my fingers and one more
universe is lost.
so, what do you do
when passion is no longer
in things you once loved?
grey clouds block the sun
i stare into, painfully
dark and light and dark.
miserable lifelong memories unerased
leave the mind dazed as time upward turns and flies.
the number changes, always for the better
and again, at her feet i await the prize
but words fail, numbers lie and promises fade.
it nears, the blade - its wielder of grey blue eyes
sharpening it to perfection. in the end
none can defend against the great enterprise.
my last breath stills me and accepts whichever
cathedrals of forever lights in the skies.
fabric falling from
heaven, stubborn saint. highway
to dusk? ...dawn, i dream.
rare the air:
your eyes on me.
bare. it’s where
— The End —