Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
waskosims Nov 2020
every time i speak
i'm reduced infinitesimally
and i lose the early taste
of evening fog rising over an open twilit april field
and of my late mindfulness of the two moons
of the rising red planet mars
of phobos and deimos
oh i know they might still be mine, i still hunt for them occasionally
i can sometimes hear their eccentric hum calling me
but my half mad understanding already has ultimately strained the limits
of my wobbly earthly logic
i cannot listen any more, i can only barely fathom
while i'm busy yet orbiting inside other visions of undetermined stars beyond stars i've already known
of everything there that is tied together or perhaps not, spiraling down simultaneously
still unable, but trying
to fill and comfort the unknowable ache of this void
in the bowels of  my soul
...all this is somehow important i feel
.. but each time i dare these words upon you
i create more of a knot , more distance
between you and me first
then between myself and everything else soon after
and then we both begin to lose
sight of me
stepping off, breaking spell

into this slivered spacestream of nowhere
with my chafed tongue still clapping
and i'm sure to lose you forever
i'll lose us both
if i insist following this fraying thread any further
            God ,seal me against speech
              with blood and wax
              seal me like a prophesy
              never meant to be opened
heaven guide us back
and hold us inside the frequencies of silence
of black density and vast anchored eternities
hovering over us in this inimitable field tonite
within these few hours of a hanging crimson orb
that will bleed over the earth
without enmity
or blame
....this moon
until it pales again
washed clean of blood, of epiphany
setting firm silent
as ever
upon the flattened horizon
in the grey lonely light of just another cold april morning
                     breaking hard, i promise i will meet you there
and i will love only you...
waskosims Aug 2020
birds born in midair
never leave the sky
what has no beginning
has no real ending...never quite lands can drag the bottom
finding or finding not
searching for that body
by which satisfies as an explanation
and buys you only time
which will never satisfy
and by time you are not softened
not like the stone smoothed, hiding in your hand
...its never been a simple matter
to just die
or to be the thing you are born to
this one morning
the birds flew lower and closer
than they had ever flown before

...and we are recompensed as a question
of whether we are dead or truly alive
and as i still breath
i promise to never hesitate
to tell you
we so very much are
waskosims Aug 2020
..i'm inside another mindquake
of tossed and heaved visions
( i would like to call them something else)
i'm alone in the dark

******* my thumb
to the bone
gnawing on my own foot
trying to free myself
from this death trap
of nauseous petulance

cleverness is symptomatic
of the worst of liars
why won't you believe this
unless you're similarly engraved
and marked
( we are both doomed)

why can't a mind just bleed out quietly
somewhere out of sight
instead of
deepening its wounds,
the damage
within the spectacle of making empty noise?
(it should honor itself for the terminal wild beast it is
laying itself down hidden somewhere
falling silent
and be done with it)
-forget all this
this is too dense a narrative
yes, a old dearth
written in fresh shorthand
trying to inch closer what??
-who would dare pretend
and admit and nod to what they don't understand?
(we both have many times)
so it ends right now here
empty sounds in the belly of a cow
( the cow fell asleep and bellowed among the others
and lost it's teeth and appetites on the veritable cud)
this is just uncomplicated madness pirouetting
as deft language, out of touch
veiling as dense profundity mind
eating itself out of whatever sanity left
ending this i suppose
waskosims Aug 2020
i watched it crawl on your shoulder
as we talked past one another
i spoke nothing of it
..why should the spider die also
and be included
in this lethal experiment
we chose together
and have no way
of stopping?
waskosims Aug 2020
i can't help but
create out of deliberate obsolescence
with whatever is fatigued and mottled with rust
inside any bygone ruin that fascinates and grips me
and most of all
within the spectra of shadows of your own deepened condition
that gilded edge wane that has never failed
to enthrall and inspire

i could never love a soul until its natural patina arrived

                     ..i can race a worm to the green apple core
                     eat the worm too
                     everything now is beyond ripe
                     exposing what's left beautiful in the spoil
                     ..and neither is there harm in burning
                     this paper mobius strip
                     you've just given me
your name written on the inside coil
mine on the outside
two plumes of smoke folding between us
a  frail thinning wisp caught up in the gentle updraft
columns rising into heaven turning inside a single spire
                              we won't last
                              but i can promise you
                              we will be just as forever
                              you and me
                              ...even as we are about to be reduced
                              to the final moments of our kindred ashes
waskosims Aug 2020
you were always
the little paradoxical mind ****
the thought shock jockey
mercenary mind for hire
falling asleep bored in someone's old dharma battle
waking honest and unaffected
as loud raucous sweet flesh
speaking in a deep earthy voice
turning poesy into hard poetry're at another full scale riot now
somewhere else
with someone else
not here
...wherever you are
too much of being the deliberate dripping scandal
to be unentertaining
and passing unnoticed
you never think to edit sober..think of others
so the inexplicable mess expositionally expands unchecked
now includes moi
so as you say.. love someone exactly
for their inconsistencies
not in spite of them
lesson is messy
not much puzzling crazy wisdom in that
you told me this
after you exhausted
all my beleaguered thinking
into one craven honest desire
as you and your fabulous mind
walked out my door
that morning
blowing off the hinges
...leaving behind a pile of splinters
waskosims Jul 2020
i know you are there
breathing as i am
peripheral and obtuse the words,
emptying of  their plainspeak
- they have plausible denial
if it gets too hot...too real, too fast
we need cover, protection,demeanor 
in this dance of hellos
still, the connection deepens intrinsically
...the shelf life of this poem
all but guarantees
its quick forgetfulness 
the obvious moment  has closed
and the world opens,resumes
continues as it must ..for now

...till next time my friend.....take care
Next page