I need you
Like road rash on my chest
From skidding across pavement.
I need you
The same way I need another tattoo,
Etched into me.
Acridity.

I meet every day
glaciers adrift,
with those mouths full
of empty thoughts,
the eyes
consumed by sadness,
the liver
soured by acridity,
the heart worn out
by a life without warmth,
too arid
not to go adrift
in the ocean of solitude.

28.11.'13

I am weakened without
The Eternal Imagination.
                         It lifts me above the bitter
                         Waters I have drunk from
Like a thirsty deer ignoring
                         The faint acridity and
Lapping the coolness until its mid-section
Cramps and it sleeps it
                         Off in the tall cool grasses
                         Only to arise again
                         To drink of the same source.

Foamy blankets outstretch over
Endless bitter pools before
                 This wanderer who searches
The midnights keep for my souls Delight
Passing other shrouded figures  
Who wander through
This universal dream
Like ghost ships
Gliding the haunted deep
Never sailing beyond this
Dark world of mores and memes
And endless waves of prosaic time
Slumbering in our brokenness
Lost in dreams of our barrenness.

How long will Heaven wait
To awaken me from this troubled sleep
Or will this restless dreamer pass
                    Through the final dark
And misty veil only to
                        Continue to wander
But then in eternal sleepwalk
In an infinitely darker universal dream
With the now otherworldly ghosts?

I still have so many more
Miles to go
But I am now wide-awake in deep sleep.
I have escaped the hungry deep
                              As a bird from a snare
Soaring miles above in newness of life

For the levy of holy waters
Has been breached.
Now this cleansing eternal deep
                              Keeps drawing me on
To Reaches unknown.

Lips split
To lick and swallow sallow tears.
Heartbeat in ears, I
Choke down my words
To sit through my fears.

My brain is electrified with the acridity of lemons –
Dashing through cemeteries
Fumbling with etched wisdom
On stones older than enlightenment
And smearing it with fingers trembling on my forehead,
Clammy and numb
While mouths split and shriek into the paralysis of dreams shattered.

I am
hooked on sadists and social delinquents
Lost swirled in the lotus of stinking nightfall,
Gliding through clouds of memory lost and memory found,
With
Jugular arched bare smooth desperate for sunray.
Impassioned strings of rhapsodies intertwine my fingers for
A raptured fractured moment, but
Still I am zygotic, weeping in the embryonic stuff of life.

But reticulate my mistakes -  
Entwine me in the filaments
Of one billion years of algal growth
And allow me to explode into
revered ******* nostalgic bloom
So I may feel once more
The fossilized whispers of love
On my petrified wooden ears
Smooth down my hair so that
I may lie beside you like a guilty dog
Incapable of culpable tears
Just the fear of
Our sound raves refracting
Like shattered light
Into the pedantic lexicon of lives
Leaving this world
Thousands per minute
But still your sweet
Sweet moss on my grave.

I feel the steady beat of my pulse in my head,

and imagine I can feel yours as my fingers briefly dance across the back of your hand.

A bitter-sweet inbetwixt:



I blink back sour tears,

crimson trickle eased out of palms by clenched fist-and-nail.



My mind runs wild with thoughts of you,

a long-forgotten smile stretching from ear to ear.



Your taste fills my mouth and her acridity is gone,

a moment that will always last forever.



I am dismissed and distressed,

and as I hear her close the door behind her for the last time I loose a low growl,

the start of a tri-month darkness and a half-year struggle.



I feel a resonance that I once sought to abandon,

the strumming of strings in my heart.

Eyes lock and soundlessly whisper the passionate trinity:



"I loved you."

*"I love you."

He was born July 2, 1925,
son of James and Jesse Evers,
Medgar Evers of Mississippi,
World War II veteran,
fought in the Battle of Normandy,
June 1944,
with his soldier brothers
of same and other races.

He rose a leader,
a Freedom Hero,
Mississippi field secretary of NAACP,
President, Regional Council of
***** Leaders,
husband of Myrlie, her purity
of devotion,
father of Darrell, Reena Denise,
and James,
civil rights leadership of the
highest calling,
of a bravery that persevered
again.

That early morning,
June 12, 1963,
a shot of hate tore
through his heart,
he was fallen in his own driveway,
his family witnessed this
most heinous of murders
committed in the insanity
of human acridity,
the bitterness in our psyches.

June 19, 1963,
full military honors,
Arlington National Cemetery,
for a man of a character so
much more loving
than his assassin's.

We, as a people,
we must obliterate
pre-conceived assumptions,
faulty thoughts of each other.

Medgar Evers of Mississippi,
Medgar Evers of America,
posthumously awarded the
Spingarn Medal,
murdered in a country
he fought for,
merited eternally by God.

Vices and obligtions, every day.
The only constants I know well enough -
The only ones I trust.
The hundreds of carnalities we swallow daily
Aged for twenty years inside a body too translucent for
The acridity of our
Imagined savior.
Our
Impartial parent
And grave digger.
Fermenting, now spoiled -
Those who drink the blood of such a redeemer
Will intoxicate, lose themselves
in the
impossibility
of such an existence
And fall, fallow, into the ground below to become something
alive but not living
They will give rise, once more, to a new generation of
fruiting bodies
Waiting for consumption by the next
eager victim.

lipstick stains
and beyond
at the backseat
and all over my brain
i missed the tears
under the covers
disappearing
like little favours
leave me alone
i will close that track
cross the threshold
and mind the gap
i vied for this
this vile acridity
this insane stupidity
and i believe in
the reverse of sense
hoping tragedies
like a sceptical god
a symphony like
sweet medicines to
kick in when the
lights rage in blood
forget about me now
my floral imprints
blossoming on skin
pretty in red and pink
are nothing but
butterfly memories
fleeting and fugacious
as cold as your kiss
hug that jacket tighter
and close both eyes
the walk is shorter
than this long drive
but if your lips bruise
or your fingers tire
from singing back
dear, i’ll douse the fire
my gasoline’s empty
and i’m almost out
this is all falling apart
so hold your mouth
and when everything
fades out slowly to
music and black
as you forget to listen
you will find that i
wiped away all of the
evidence, and the
lipstick stains are missing.

A man decided to love
But without enough shove.
To his dismay
Whirlwind swept away
In disrepute his dream
without a gleam.
That good villainous morning,
He awoke, greeted by mourning.
Blurred became his vision,
Vanity became his mission.
Saddened, he griefed
Though his acridity briefed.
His belief in true love flurred
As smoke swallowed into thin air.
His heart hardened as a rock,
The thought of true love makes him yock.    

©binditim