"nectarless" poems
i am dreaming of
the furthest room down the hall,
the slight fall of the chest as someone sighs deeply
the watery gaze that sees nothing
save dull and diffused light
of reasons that have the stink of rationalization on them
of slight couched in invitation
to yesterday's cancelled reservation
for the chance to revisit the ultimatum
where live words held in the mouth
words now sentenced to life
for murders never said
of the memory of tiny actions
for the sake of their intended
of small bright wings painted with the faces of children laughing
that flutter in what appears to be aimless flight yet always alighting with precision on the nectarless flowers
in their artificial meadow
of sleep without dreams or waking
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 10:39 PM UTC
You were trembling, Job of the prairies---
a supernova born with angel hair optics
gnarled in the sweat of an oil soaked sun;
****** to the soil by nectarless thirst.
Even your stains were bright with haloes;
Dappled like the moon with jewelish fire---
Even your scabs were disjointed lights---
in center of your temple, white like tile.
A quaff of dissention and love laden
As you stood fragile as fruitless skin---
Bent to my presence, a crooked crystal;
All swallowed and refracted, like liquor.
Your cat-eyes were so bitterbright, shadowy
Inconsolably shining enormous fires, dark.
Your blackened opal void melting to nectar
for incestuous parasite lapping it in twain.
I loved you, and your autophagical bones;
A dimming resplendence on a crooked bridge
where they sipped the springtime's deathour---
where I kissed your soul in spring's deathour.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC