There’s an uneasy chatter stalking silently through the breeze.
Ominous whispers are whipping in the wind.
Ancient flocks of fear have perched in all the trees.
They can’t believe how silent their cities have been.
All of their eyes are hiding behind glass,
Concealed behind curtains, and peeking curiously,
Hoping not to see it;
That silent specter stalking through the streets,
Haunting all their dreams.
Their ominous imaginations are finding phantoms,
Hiding, in the corner of their vision.
Skittering fears are tickling their eyelids as they sleep.
Frail, seedling thoughts of the future
Have found fallow ground in the fields of hope.
And I’m at home,
Having a smoke, and writing a poem.
The clever lips
That gilded my eyes,
The lovely hips;
Traced neatly demise.
The haunting kiss
A beautiful guise
I’m left with this
And fraudulent sighs.
Pity be with
Who sees her coming.
I’d prefer this
O’er never loving.
This end is bliss,
Though, very tragic.
Death by her kiss,
So very classic.
Grin, when the stillness meets you again.
Smile, when the shadows seek to beguile.
Laugh, as lovers tempt you from your path.
Dance the cynics trance; the Devil’s glance.
Crease the corner of your lips,
Thinly focused fiery eyes,
Bathe your kiss in poisonous bliss,
Never mind their cries,
Save those who try,
Who refuse to lie still,
To let comfort devour life’s thrills.
What if we left, together, tomorrow?
For a sight of unfamiliar faces.
What if we parked our car on a ferry,
And floated through the ghostly border.
What if we’re only trapped in our hearts?
Running from our starving, needy shadows;
What if we kissed them on the brow,
And told them “Don’t be afraid, everything is okay.”
What if we sipped the night through,
Embracing the diffusion of plot and intention.
What if nothing was sure, nothing familiar,
Stretch, breathe deeply, look forward.
Don’t be afraid, everything is okay.
Oh, God, how it aches to rise and awaken,
Cracking each sallow limb, filling each lung,
Pumping the heart not meant to be taken;
Feeling the sting of pins inside my tongue.
I beg, stop your lovely singing outside.
I was content, for now, to sleep forever.
Now, tantalizing justice begs me find,
The source of sultry songs in foul weather.
Is it poison or nectar that glistens
Upon your lips, shining in your dark eyes.
I want your bite, your kiss, your intention.
I want to hear your gasps and steaming sighs;
To ignore the venom numbing my tongue,
To heave and gag, grinning, choking on blood.
Must I pretend to be a fool for you;
Blinded to such violent truths in your eyes?
O’ shall I set free thee, starving accused,
To wander down alleys, ensconced by time?
Should we gasp for the air, so sweet, so pure.
Should we swallow our doubts, so few, so rare.
Should we not be awake, to see the cure?
Should we not be free on this day so fair?
The trees are yet to bloom, but yet too soon,
Will the birds sing their prayers of warmth and play.
My soul is yet to wake, beneath this moon,
As clouds belittle thee, my sun, my day.
Promise not to burn my frail eyes, my dear.
Our vows shall not be writ in ink or fear.
Our marriage is not of vows,
But fingers of flames, tracing curves.
Breathing into each other’s beds,
Smoking the smoldering coals,
Which once lay dormant, now,
Incensed by the passions of fools.
She brands my ears, with steaming gasps.
She tears the flesh from off my back.
With searing claws, she rings my finger;
My eyes reflect her dazzling embers.
As smoke chokes the air and sets free,
Sparks floating off, into the breeze.
It simmers through the night,
As the sun begins to rise.
The birds begin to sing,
The blaze begins to die,
And this pile of dry ash,
Is divorced into the sky.
Hoping to spark again,
The Sun would struggle with
Gasping chokes against thee,
Flowering plumes who squeeze
The breath of light, in spring.
Let your fury, in vein,
Clutch its petty vengeance.
Let the laughter you face
Breaks your sorrow’s promise.
Be silent, woeful lament.
Be still, shifting pilgrim.
Yet, the light will prevail.
Yet, my eyes will be filled.
Our skin to soon rejoice.
Our friends will soon convene.
Beneath tender kisses.
Laying, softly serene
The plague of a crescendo
Met in a field and,
Softened there; in balance
Tipped into indulgence.
What set these notes
Beneath a sovereign sky,
Save the adventures of
A claimless soul?
Ever still, floating free;
All those who garner
The charms of rhapsody
And fateless hymns.
Here, one of each, and each of one;
Strings of crystals and water drops.
The space between the sky and stars;
A sinking Moon and swimming Sun.
To build without the touch of hand,
To see without vision’s burden,
Not to direct, but to create,
Not to construct, but yet to paint.
Every color in, every line gone.
Every sense blind, every sight true.
To leave body behind in faith,
To melt into ether and grace.
Here, one of each, and each of one;
Strands of timeless, silent thoughts.
To see how near we stand,
Violent shifting sands,