Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"blackly" poems
There is snow on the ground, And the valleys are cold, And a midnight profound Blackly squats o'er the wold; But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un-hallowed and old. There is death in the clouds, There is fear in the night, For the dead in their shrouds Hail the sin's turning flight. And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white. To no gale of Earth's kind Sways the forest of oak, Where the sick boughs entwined By mad mistletoes choke, For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
0
52.3k
Yule Horror
There is snow on the ground, And the valleys are cold, And a midnight profound Blackly squats o'er the wold; But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings unhallowed and old. There is death in the clouds, There is fear in the night, For the dead in their shrouds Hail the sun's turning flight. And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule-altar fungous and white. To no gale of Earth's kind Sways the forest of oak, Where the thick boughs entwined By mad mistletoes choke, For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk. And mayst thou to such deeds Be an abbot and priest, Singing cannibal greeds At each devil-wrought feast, And to all the incredulous world shewing dimly the sign of the beast.
0
7.9k
Festival
Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody. When the lightning flashed, I saw that what I had thought to be a city was in fact a deserted plain and, in the same sinister light that revealed me to myself, there seemed to be no sky above it. I was robbed of any possibility of having existed before the world. If I was ever reincarnated, I must have done so without myself, without a self to reincarnate. I am the outskirts of some non-existent town, the long-winded prologue to an unwritten book. I'm nobody, nobody. I don't know how to feel or think or love. I'm a character in a novel as yet unwritten, hovering in the air and undone before I've even existed, amongst the dreams of someone who never quite managed to breathe life into me. I'm always thinking, always feeling, but my thoughts lack all reason, my emotions all feeling. I'm falling through a trapdoor, through infinite, infinitous space, in a directionless, empty fall. My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool. And I, I myself, am the centre that exists only because the geometry of the abyss demands it; I am the nothing around which all this spins, I exist so that it can spin, I am a centre that exists only because every circle has one. I, I myself, am the well in which the walls have fallen away to leave only viscous slime. I am the centre of everything surrounded by the great nothing. And it is as if hell itself were laughing within me but, instead of the human touch of diabolical laughter, there's the mad croak of the dead universe, the circling cadaver of physical space, the end of all worlds drifting blackly in the wind, misshapen, anachronistic, without the God who created it, without God himself who spins in the dark of darks, impossible, unique, everything. If only I could think! If only I could feel!
0
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
Today
Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody. When the lightning flashed, I saw that what I had thought to be a city was in fact a deserted plain and, in the same sinister light that revealed me to myself, there seemed to be no sky above it. I was robbed of any possibility of having existed before the world. If I was ever reincarnated, I must have done so without myself, without a self to reincarnate. I am the outskirts of some non-existent town, the long-winded prologue to an unwritten book. I'm nobody, nobody. I don't know how to feel or think or love. I'm a character in a novel as yet unwritten, hovering in the air and undone before I've even existed, amongst the dreams of someone who never quite managed to breathe life into me. I'm always thinking, always feeling, but my thoughts lack all reason, my emotions all feeling. I'm falling through a trapdoor, through infinite, infinitous space, in a directionless, empty fall. My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool. And I, I myself, am the centre that exists only because the geometry of the abyss demands it; I am the nothing around which all this spins, I exist so that it can spin, I am a centre that exists only because every circle has one. I, I myself, am the well in which the walls have fallen away to leave only viscous slime. I am the centre of everything surrounded by the great nothing. And it is as if hell itself were laughing within me but, instead of the human touch of diabolical laughter, there's the mad croak of the dead universe, the circling cadaver of physical space, the end of all worlds drifting blackly in the wind, misshapen, anachronistic, without the God who created it, without God himself who spins in the dark of darks, impossible, unique, everything. If only I could think! If only I could feel!
Continue reading...
6
In to the mystery of the night, i wander the tangled tarantula garden canopied with prophesies of light, Lit windows are making overtures to desires night unleashes at these hours, hear the buzz in the air its time to make love, darkness forgets  hurt and embraces light. i walk alone, but an enchanting witch wait for me somewhere in a garden bench, to take me by my  hand to her secret haunt filled with thick smoke of **** where she will remove the drapes to let me see the truth. On her quill and cactus bed, she would make me understand, how far is pleasure from pain why darkness stalks light, a jilted lover, walking a few steps behind, I've heard her, once whisper to wind in her husky voice "A  life written off by those who measure out life with coffee spoons, as spent in vein; this life of mine, could have its secret treasures, no charlatan could ever guess about a serpent's diamonds very few get to see, its dangerous to pry, i forgive their ignorance" Words induced by her dark power has layers of meaning but to many it was just meaningless jabbering, just magic mushroom blabber She nibbled and nicked my earlobes, in between intoxicating purrs, told me the meaning of caterwauls, **"Its not pain, its not pain, once you get in to the stream you only want to drain, in to the vast blue ocean"** I recognize now,  it's Walpurgis night, as i walk in search of my witch, i see dancers around bonfire, revelers totally out of their minds, carouse at the heart of the night. And i see them all, witches in marine blue dresses, enchantresses in blackly black, coquettish red or groovy green, I wait for her to appear, the only one in resplendent white.
0
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
The witch in Walpurgis night
In to the mystery of the night, i wander the tangled tarantula garden canopied with prophesies of light, Lit windows are making overtures to desires night unleashes at these hours, hear the buzz in the air its time to make love, darkness forgets  hurt and embraces light. i walk alone, but an enchanting witch wait for me somewhere in a garden bench, to take me by my  hand to her secret haunt filled with thick smoke of **** where she will remove the drapes to let me see the truth. On her quill and cactus bed, she would make me understand, how far is pleasure from pain why darkness stalks light, a jilted lover, walking a few steps behind, I've heard her, once whisper to wind in her husky voice "A  life written off by those who measure out life with coffee spoons, as spent in vein; this life of mine, could have its secret treasures, no charlatan could ever guess about a serpent's diamonds very few get to see, its dangerous to pry, i forgive their ignorance" Words induced by her dark power has layers of meaning but to many it was just meaningless jabbering, just magic mushroom blabber She nibbled and nicked my earlobes, in between intoxicating purrs, told me the meaning of caterwauls, **"Its not pain, its not pain, once you get in to the stream you only want to drain, in to the vast blue ocean"** I recognize now,  it's Walpurgis night, as i walk in search of my witch, i see dancers around bonfire, revelers totally out of their minds, carouse at the heart of the night. And i see them all, witches in marine blue dresses, enchantresses in blackly black, coquettish red or groovy green, I wait for her to appear, the only one in resplendent white.
Continue reading...
52
bathing myself in this thirsting quench and now I’ve come to see you as a drug. a pill. but not prescribed.       Staring blackly at me on my bedside table                   and it’s teasing me. teasing me with the sugar cane that erupts when it skims my tounge - I drool. alluring my own deception  with your succulent crescendo that unravels it’s way down my whole voice until there’s none left. And its just the way it sets me so ablaze that I cremate casually  in your immaculate ignite.                        Knuckles clench to restrain that                  sentiment that nostalgia              that world that lies behind your door I always see myself             linger through ghostly. I’ve never been
0
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
druggedupprisoner
I shall go away To the brown hills, the quiet ones, The vast, the mountainous, the rolling, Sun-fired and drowsy! My horse snuffs delicately At the strange wind; He settles to a swinging trot; his hoofs ***** the dust. The road winds, straightens, Slashes a marsh, Shoulders out a bridge, Then -- Again the hills. Unchanged, innumerable, Bowing huge, round backs; Holding secret, immense converse: In gusty voices, Fruitful, fecund, toiling Like yoked black oxen. The clouds pass like great, slow thoughts And vanish In the intense blue. My horse lopes; the saddle creaks and sways. A thousand glittering spears of sun slant from on high. The immensity, the spaces, Are like the spaces Between star and star. The hills sleep. If I put my hand on one, I would feel the vast heave of its breath. I would start away before it awakened And shook the world from its shoulders. A cicada's cry deepens the hot silence. The hills open To show a slope of poppies, Ardent, noble, heroic, A flare, a great flame of orange; Giving sleepy, brittle scent That stings the lungs. A creeping wind slips through them like a ferret; they bow and dance, answering Beauty's voice . . . The horse whinnies. I dismount And tie him to the grey worn fence. I set myself against the javelins of grass and sun; And climb the rounded breast, That flows like a sea-wave. The summit crackles with heat, there is no shelter, no hollow from the flagellating glare. I lie down and look at the sky, shading my eyes. My body becomes strange, the sun takes it and changes it, it does not feel, it is like the body of another. The air blazes. The air is diamond. Small noises move among the grass . . . Blackly, A hawk mounts, mounts in the inane Seeking the star-road, Seeking the end . . . But there is no end. Here, in this light, there is no end. . .
0
3.1k
Road and Hills
I shall go away To the brown hills, the quiet ones, The vast, the mountainous, the rolling, Sun-fired and drowsy! My horse snuffs delicately At the strange wind; He settles to a swinging trot; his hoofs ***** the dust. The road winds, straightens, Slashes a marsh, Shoulders out a bridge, Then -- Again the hills. Unchanged, innumerable, Bowing huge, round backs; Holding secret, immense converse: In gusty voices, Fruitful, fecund, toiling Like yoked black oxen. The clouds pass like great, slow thoughts And vanish In the intense blue. My horse lopes; the saddle creaks and sways. A thousand glittering spears of sun slant from on high. The immensity, the spaces, Are like the spaces Between star and star. The hills sleep. If I put my hand on one, I would feel the vast heave of its breath. I would start away before it awakened And shook the world from its shoulders. A cicada's cry deepens the hot silence. The hills open To show a slope of poppies, Ardent, noble, heroic, A flare, a great flame of orange; Giving sleepy, brittle scent That stings the lungs. A creeping wind slips through them like a ferret; they bow and dance, answering Beauty's voice . . . The horse whinnies. I dismount And tie him to the grey worn fence. I set myself against the javelins of grass and sun; And climb the rounded breast, That flows like a sea-wave. The summit crackles with heat, there is no shelter, no hollow from the flagellating glare. I lie down and look at the sky, shading my eyes. My body becomes strange, the sun takes it and changes it, it does not feel, it is like the body of another. The air blazes. The air is diamond. Small noises move among the grass . . . Blackly, A hawk mounts, mounts in the inane Seeking the star-road, Seeking the end . . . But there is no end. Here, in this light, there is no end. . .
Continue reading...
58
fed the birds. fed the birds a book about my dead weight. fed the birds a heavy. fed them from my thin hands. The words that live. The birds ate. The birds ate words that lived and always lived in separate houses. if... and i mean if and only if they could afford it. if these clever pagans ever had a dime. they found it boring rich folk to death. i fed the birds my indigenous nomads. they dined in high style... dined black and fancy on shabby addicts, as they hopped trains . i fed the birds my swarthy tribe. and they supped. i fed the birds a monologue with trains of thought the words i fed them... the vagabonds... hopped trains. of thought. I fed the birds. i fed the birds just outside. i sat and fed them black light and Harmalade fed them blackly fed them with piano keys; the black ones, the ones that radiate i fed i watched them. watched them fancy peck. and peck and fancy pluck. i watched. they dined on serene defeat by technicality. it was surreal to watch a blackbird pluck from black keys - peck a morsel of glum from the black rays, yes. the black rays with opposable thumbs and a lifeline. the only one i know forbidding gypsies with three eyes. an open palm. a paranoid black radish white dwarf star with piano keys for black rays of nimbus, yes mine is the hand that bites the hand that writes the book it wants to ban, that ain't a fan not at all. just an appendage. a pen dirge ? What ? i fed the flock lots I fed the black ones - with dolls' eyes... tucked under wing. i fed them, yes. a book about the size of any welcome malcontent. i fed them sorrows and ellipses with adjacent lawns. wutherings in stately manors, squatting on either side of memory lane, like a bourbon and coke had practically crawled across shards of hard things to break, with a drink in your hand and crawled, well blended down the hatch of enormous, well appointed gothic frogs, that - were mostly refurbished toads with odd columns. i fed the birds, broke out the Good Chi na hang the tantrums ! yes One should expect a rich metaphor to want to watch you eat it's every word or by extension; lick the toad with 15 rooms, three stories, unfit for children and a full staff of Adjectives, highly trained to short-sheet the Bedlam, and fluff the pillories. one should sip the liqueur off the floor, inside the huge and tipsy gorgon and be thankful for the dank and the solid gold flyswatters. they're complementary. take one as you leave out thinking " toads, eat flies.... so it follows...." apropos of nothing, on the ' Good China ', now in the belly of birds, well fed an unwell. a book about my dead-weight's dream to eat fewer flies and more steak. to grow wings. yes.
0
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 11:23 AM UTC
DODO
fed the birds. fed the birds a book about my dead weight. fed the birds a heavy. fed them from my thin hands. The words that live. The birds ate. The birds ate words that lived and always lived in separate houses. if... and i mean if and only if they could afford it. if these clever pagans ever had a dime. they found it boring rich folk to death. i fed the birds my indigenous nomads. they dined in high style... dined black and fancy on shabby addicts, as they hopped trains . i fed the birds my swarthy tribe. and they supped. i fed the birds a monologue with trains of thought the words i fed them... the vagabonds... hopped trains. of thought. I fed the birds. i fed the birds just outside. i sat and fed them black light and Harmalade fed them blackly fed them with piano keys; the black ones, the ones that radiate i fed i watched them. watched them fancy peck. and peck and fancy pluck. i watched. they dined on serene defeat by technicality. it was surreal to watch a blackbird pluck from black keys - peck a morsel of glum from the black rays, yes. the black rays with opposable thumbs and a lifeline. the only one i know forbidding gypsies with three eyes. an open palm. a paranoid black radish white dwarf star with piano keys for black rays of nimbus, yes mine is the hand that bites the hand that writes the book it wants to ban, that ain't a fan not at all. just an appendage. a pen dirge ? What ? i fed the flock lots I fed the black ones - with dolls' eyes... tucked under wing. i fed them, yes. a book about the size of any welcome malcontent. i fed them sorrows and ellipses with adjacent lawns. wutherings in stately manors, squatting on either side of memory lane, like a bourbon and coke had practically crawled across shards of hard things to break, with a drink in your hand and crawled, well blended down the hatch of enormous, well appointed gothic frogs, that - were mostly refurbished toads with odd columns. i fed the birds, broke out the Good Chi na hang the tantrums ! yes One should expect a rich metaphor to want to watch you eat it's every word or by extension; lick the toad with 15 rooms, three stories, unfit for children and a full staff of Adjectives, highly trained to short-sheet the Bedlam, and fluff the pillories. one should sip the liqueur off the floor, inside the huge and tipsy gorgon and be thankful for the dank and the solid gold flyswatters. they're complementary. take one as you leave out thinking " toads, eat flies.... so it follows...." apropos of nothing, on the ' Good China ', now in the belly of birds, well fed an unwell. a book about my dead-weight's dream to eat fewer flies and more steak. to grow wings. yes.
Continue reading...
186
Behind closed eyes  And shuttered dreams  And barred windows  I see the color green  For the sea I write  Behind iron bars  And deathly individuality  And ghostly thought  I see the color white  For the air I write  Behind four pointed snowflakes  And glistening ice pools  And a hatchet clinging to the  Frosted waves  I see the color red  For the fire I write  Behind the open air  And the dank walls  And the endless earth  I see the color of hope  Blackly shining
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 1:37 AM UTC
For Them
ivories that are made of letters grey skin, blackred hair, word babies gigantic mirror, blackly glowing psychedelic nature like 1968 apartment in the projects hallways full of dust and spiders uncle is smoking the daylight away his walls covered with bulletholes red and tired eyes, no smiling uncle's wife killed in a car crash dead goons are torturing him now the memory of her dead body, stuck past encounters like smoke in the air red frost covers uncle's body, glaciers a button to turn back time, fantasies melting hours for god's sacrifices
0
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 9:58 AM UTC
The Uncle
I just want them too truly To know they are as and more Dearly too when we are all as my 3 here re see Eve'd as I already knew U had come too re a shore the lonely sailor With One One Another Ahoy!!! ~The Promise Be Shore Surely!!!~~ ~Love of my life baby girl V~~Star'Sis!! Come Darling Coming!!! Still and More Shall be!! Mote IT B ! . . Air All Was As Crisp Still Clear Moon o'V very bright fully too Towards the Dead of Line's 'tween be of a day by Tip Tipper of Nite locally See Sea's longitudinally onward thee tracking surely so.. x \/ x \/ x \/ . . X Then the waters did part as quick As Glass Shattered into that house Midwife Be Thy Holy Need Pop Quickly Spotting Pop On Top One Pop on Top too lil' me seeing see E Y E Then just as sudden as the quick The winds did there kick kick blew As Blackly Be But Stars Dimmer Too For This Moon Of Wooing Thee BE I N Too All Mighty's So Whispy of Whispering's Windy's Cloud's Streak Speak's Th'Eye's Sky's Here's Holy's Hearing's Love Is . . O N L Y By Moon So Overly Fleet Flew Fastly Flying All Heavenly Hands Took Competent Handling of All Decks Twas not this no not the one for a mutiny All the Blood Bearing Beings before had overly So much of scutiny too Wards of The Captain Too They felt as his captive's Too A Madness Of Missions *more: Coming ha ha Guess Guess!! Bless Bless!
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
Ur trending babe!!!
I departed poorly with my blackly bitter summer, And ordered life in bright colors. It gave me autumn dressed in blazing orange and red. Delivered to me in dreamful and magical tints of gold. I didn’t even notice the autumn rain. Smelling the fragrance of the breeze, I heard beautiful music from the rustling leaves. Now, my heart began beating a familiar rhyme. Love will gather my wistful, unspoken thoughts, With new songs of harmony from these autumn leaves. I still have a lot of these colors. I still have a lot of LOVE to give. I’ve known love like I’ve known fall for so long.
0
Sep 18, 2021
Sep 18, 2021 at 8:44 PM UTC
Colors of Fall
My life was steeped in darkness Twisted trees blackly cracked the grey sky I didn't know there could be such brightness Until I found that place That place of colour And light And fun And love I wanted it I'd always wanted it Without even knowing what I wanted I tried to bring brightness to my twisted world I strived for so long and so hard But they couldn't understand And the brightness was lost to all Only then did I understand I was the darkness The darkness was me And that was okay Because the world needs darkness But it also needs brightness So I returned to darkness And let the brightness shine without my corruption But a little brightness shone in me
0
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Jack Skellington (Inspired by The Nightmare Before Christmas)
I could no longer see the sky, stars all blackly veiled, senses numbed in the gathering storm, a smokey room void of living breath choked the night air, gasping consternation of a dark wilderness a sad vanishing note, played unrecognizable
0
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Unrecognizable
Something black somewhere      in the vistas of his heart. Tulips from Tates teazed Henry in the mood to be a tulip and desire no more but water, but light, but air. Yet his nerves rattled blackly, unsubdued, &suffocation; called, dream-whiskey'd pour sirening. Rosy there too fly my Phil&Ellen; roses, pal. Flesh-coloured men&women; come&punt; under my windows. I rave or grunt against it, from a flowerless land. For timeless hours wind most, or not at all. I wind my clock before I shave. Soon it will fall dark. Soon you'll see stars you fevered after, child, man, & did nothing - compass love to the pencil-torch! As still as his cadaver, Henry mars this surface of an earth or other, feet south eyes bleared west, waking to march. from The Dream Songs
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
Room 231: the fourth week (by John Berryman)
He paints the insides of his nostrils with whiteout and glue, and takes a deep breath. Scotty colors his teeth in with a sharpie standing before the bathroom mirror, he exhales and smiles blackly. The whiteness of his eyes irritates him, so he sprays them with double-you-dee-forty and they roll in his head smoothly and reddened. His beautiful hands catch his eye and he grabs a thumbnail with his incisors, pausing to glance into his intentions. When Scott sees himself reflected, his head jerks and the nail is ripped from his skin as his pained grimace turns into an insane grin. As he becomes beautiful again.
0
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 8:10 PM UTC
WD40
Oh those bodies on the museum walls Tennessee Valley bodies and Los Alamos bodies shining blackly like the stripe of a credit card. The price of bread fixed at five cents and we all eat it in slices. Your name is your labour and your labour your name. I have disappeared into a country that doesn’t know me and I am tearing it up with my teeth. Oh those bodies that were once slaves. Were they pictured any other way but in idyll or whipped dry? The dusty Union regiments at Baton Rouge have made a postcard of one scourged back; they share it around and die for it. I have a few postcards, too. It is strange to see any man kneeling. Oh those bodies Cornbread bodies and bodies like a corn snake crushed among the broad leaves of tobacco; The ones in bone corsets and the ones in reed baskets, floating downstream. The ones in rosy marble and wrought bronze the ones whose striped backs are coming out in wings feathers pink and wet like a new-hatched chick or a stillbirth. Your body is a tight machine of grief packed into homespun like a fist and relaxes in sepia as it never did in life, a babe slung underarm and the food only from cans; they keep the dust out. Oh those bodies that tend the home, larder and ledger, and reach for the high cabinets and keep reaching. The old voices are back at work. I am not the one they are speaking to but I hear them all the same. They spread out a catalogue of wares on a sisal blanket in the dark and every price sounds fair, every garment lovely unless you made it. The country workman in bronze now and forever with his rolled shirtsleeves; his body raises a hammer and his bicep, mid-shiver is always striking something, always building Heaven, and Manhattan, from the foundations. Stained glass his union flag and Union Army blood he forgot or never knew. The thin white arms of Andersonville, meeting two generations hence, in his arms, the dark scarred shoulders of the South. Who brought forth upon the continent this new nation, and who brought forth the ironclad Monitor and who put into song the Maple Leaf Rag or Swanee River and who put that soil there from which the cotton still grows and who made your dress? Who owes the debt and who records it? You and I. Oh those bodies swathed in light. Oh those bodies becoming angels. Bodies bound blackly and bodies forgetting which is what bodies do with injury: they absorb, and they forget.
0
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
Oh Those Bodies
Oh those bodies on the museum walls Tennessee Valley bodies and Los Alamos bodies shining blackly like the stripe of a credit card. The price of bread fixed at five cents and we all eat it in slices. Your name is your labour and your labour your name. I have disappeared into a country that doesn’t know me and I am tearing it up with my teeth. Oh those bodies that were once slaves. Were they pictured any other way but in idyll or whipped dry? The dusty Union regiments at Baton Rouge have made a postcard of one scourged back; they share it around and die for it. I have a few postcards, too. It is strange to see any man kneeling. Oh those bodies Cornbread bodies and bodies like a corn snake crushed among the broad leaves of tobacco; The ones in bone corsets and the ones in reed baskets, floating downstream. The ones in rosy marble and wrought bronze the ones whose striped backs are coming out in wings feathers pink and wet like a new-hatched chick or a stillbirth. Your body is a tight machine of grief packed into homespun like a fist and relaxes in sepia as it never did in life, a babe slung underarm and the food only from cans; they keep the dust out. Oh those bodies that tend the home, larder and ledger, and reach for the high cabinets and keep reaching. The old voices are back at work. I am not the one they are speaking to but I hear them all the same. They spread out a catalogue of wares on a sisal blanket in the dark and every price sounds fair, every garment lovely unless you made it. The country workman in bronze now and forever with his rolled shirtsleeves; his body raises a hammer and his bicep, mid-shiver is always striking something, always building Heaven, and Manhattan, from the foundations. Stained glass his union flag and Union Army blood he forgot or never knew. The thin white arms of Andersonville, meeting two generations hence, in his arms, the dark scarred shoulders of the South. Who brought forth upon the continent this new nation, and who brought forth the ironclad Monitor and who put into song the Maple Leaf Rag or Swanee River and who put that soil there from which the cotton still grows and who made your dress? Who owes the debt and who records it? You and I. Oh those bodies swathed in light. Oh those bodies becoming angels. Bodies bound blackly and bodies forgetting which is what bodies do with injury: they absorb, and they forget.
Continue reading...
67
Have you ever danced in the street? Barefoot, in the moonlight, And as you dance, The stars are your spotlight. The ground is cold and hard to touch, But tonight is your last night. So don't look back... or down They are there, all around you. Learn to trust in what cannot be seen And you will see the imperceivable. Blackly staring into at the unknown, beings of past generations welcome, Those who's Era is over.
0
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 9:36 PM UTC
Echoing into the eternal
Single crow Beach crow Shimmer Green Rusted Channel- marker Crow Among waves Crow As breeze ruffles Your feathers Blackly Crow
0
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 5:11 AM UTC
Crow on Bexhill Beach
Ear, to burrow in quaking chests, pounding pink whilst sirens called and loud whistles of graveyards outkeep the unkempt—men, in their shawls of brown hung thinly like spider-silk or like apt shadows, swung deep and knit their brow low. Tongue, to pinching Khor, dragged down winding crawling asphalt, where men marched and limped on to the serpents and salt-seas which lead them guffawing, down and blackly sombre— charred palate quelled creaking groans of iced-marrow; but it bit back in fury and in mute litanies. Nose, to pyre in cotton-burnt glory, red-cent’s ****** odour sent all, sent many, to swoon Mr. Moon from silver times and to slice dawn thick with orange rind— the kind that stung the flesh beneath your bruised fingernails as a child, as you peeled. Teeth, to grate and whitely brace for cold and plunging lines that blighted everything in vertigo’s favor. There was them, there was me, and there was you— but, skulls you see were calcium's concern, as Earth, not the mother, consumed all, and condensed became life and breath to stone and mineral.
0
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Offer Up Senses To Whose Concern?
If When the purple clouds envelope the blue wide world If everybody is just made Of doll parts And given plastic eyes To look alive If the snow falls blackly And the trees turn their backs Might as well go down in history
0
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 9:18 AM UTC
Jamie Was Here