1.
this is our corner of the world
polished brass and sweet briar
a hilltop of skinned matchsticks,
the cathedral's daylight spire

faded concrete slabs surround

an acre of white daisies found
pulled from guilty mirrored glass
clouded on the other side
of summer dawn's disease now past

across a pool of melted sleep
weaved with banded dreams of each
stands a pristine marble arch
the naked freeze will never breach

where converges a lilac destruction
sisters bent on double knees
knows no limits does seduction
helium kisses in the breeze
twin hearts of mercury
sudden in an iron pond
flammable streams of deconstruction
love looks down at broken bond

as the depths groan
comes a wonder
from an earthly being
torn asunder

"love it lingers so sugar sweet
the thinnest line between
finished and complete
the layers of gone that stand before us
this last time we are to meet"

2.
distant lies the ungraced angel
on the grass with broken wing
looking over halo's field
from the pit of early spring

we all knew her name

cinderella traded her virginity
for a moment with
the holy trinity

she had her moment
of doubt and pain
nailed to a velvet cross
internally bleeding for *******

(for which she had no affinity)

the ballad of a life
no one wanted to live
another name for destitution
(a lonelier prostitution)
subtly leaking like a sieve

5 fingers of love
were once wrapped around her neck
when she lay with dragons teeth
inside darkland tunnels
under sanctuary sheath
"i want to bury
my time
with you
on heaven's underneath
and empty my memories
on sunday morning's least...
for the way you are
and the way you'll always be"

3.
I knew a girl
with prisms
for eyes
scars
made by incision
(with holy precision)
(sunlight)
refracted into
the color of God

her names were myriad
blue and red and yellow
they cut like a knife and good
through a gestation period
of adolescence to
adulthood

one day disappearing
the whispers in the street were nearing
once with daylight straight aligned
now to the dark she was inclined

whose surgical decisions
have undone this condition
and brought down a stigma
of Christ-like submission?
what structure of mercy
could assault such a vision?

(she couldn’t speak
without bleeding-
an unrelated predisposition)

“while it strikes me as a vagary
of faith and needless repetition
I will indeed repeat myself
for this latest edition

lest a mistake be made
with those who measure enlightening
let it be known that:
I am the girl who magnifies God-she
who splits country lightning. I am the girl
apart from sight,
absent of fear and alone in the dark...
I am the girl beyond the speed of light!!

if I am to be undone
for these reflections of divinity
then let it be this cry
to echo out through infinity

I am not yellow
I am not blue
I am not green
I am not red

I am in between colors
of hues forever unsaid"

4.
no one knows who it was built for
this palace of injection
nameless and ageless
this abscess of infection

the dark horse king
is off his throne
and in his crowned confusion
gave away the
nightly blood
for his type's transfusion

no one dared
disturb his
seclusion
when his mind
decayed
into illusion
white blood cells
and brown powder
forever joined in a fusion

5.
"maybe i am /maybe i am not
but
i want
to be
the last line
in your
story tonight..
and the first thing
you see
when you
wake up.
lie down
next to me
now
and sleep"

Don't give your words to the blind deaf spirits.
With eyes they simply don't use.
They couldn't care for your naggy rantings.
They ignore you; call you Katy Kaboom.
Hardly worth the look,
they are crust beneath trashcans.
Walking off while you breathe.
I find it hard to look at people, who refuse to listen to me.
Don't treat it kind to by waved away,
cast as the alien kind.
Don't waste a spit on carcass ungraced with noblesse oblige of a man.
'Man-kind' should be a revelation,
but dumb is the man with abused to his senses.
Only fairy tales may glue dumb and kind as one.
I've seen that only wise men may not be criticized.
For only kind men, wise men, will treat a woman wise.

Yeah. Ive been away awhile.
I prefer the quiet shadows of the ungraced.
I also prefer decent poetry.
Of which, this site is apparently lacking as of late. This mockery,
This "teen angst"
hurts my head to read.
I once drew inspiration from the lovely poets that were once here.
Breathed every beautiful word as oxygen.
Now,
my very eyes hurt.

poetry is meaningless
words are just the same
untouchable
by our own experiences
ungraced by that of others
there is an
infinite beauty
in the endless possibilities
but its nothing real
instead their own world
revolving
evolving
dissolving
into new connotations
to impact someone else
never less applicable
never more knowing
"tragically" unfeeling

words

they say anything you want
and tell them-
the audience,
what they need.
its not desire
for self exploration
they're looking for
Then they would write
instead,
they depend on you
the "poet"
to describe them
to tell them who they are
and how they feel
since beyond you-
it's a mystery
their mirrors are broken
covered in hairspray and cheap perfume
with all those moments of regret
clinging to the glass in faded memories
frosting it just enough
that nothing is clear
so its safe
and then
when you tell them
when you use these illusive words
to bring enlightenment
into everything they are
and ever will be
with a general abstract
they can relate to
they get the option
of becoming a connoisseur.
of speaking as though they know
because somehow its so familiar.
(Like the days at their granparents house
back when they were a child)
but because they know
even vaguely,
you've given them the right to rejection
to denial
and self righteousness
to civilized critiquing
when really
they're just missing the point
and honestly
im not angry enough to care
maybe later
but right now-
i just want the words
to speak
so that i
dont have
to say anything