Tag: poetry

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Haunting

Smokey listeners

Reaching for the shallow limbs of black

They sink and wail to discover life

And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky 

Together, forested in fictions

I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts

I’m picked as bark

The dog days are quite holy; haunting 

The body was muddy and dug out of void

Being, holy as well

Peer through 

Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone

As I grow feral to the moans of cicadas 

I will touch the golden skies in faith

The ones I indulge in and tell stories about

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Secrets

They would call me insane if they knew of the voices I have above my head
They would call me insane if I told them of my enlightened mind
So they want us to think aloud
And share all our secrets?

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Stillness

Around you I tread gently

I treat you with kid gloves

I rock you to sleep

Thinking little nothings

Riding the wave

I try to behave

My heart is your slave

She prefers it that way

There’s an unspoken rule here

As we tangle and toss my dear

I won’t speak if you don’t

You have my word

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Form

She sways and she fades

Condensing as we name her audacious

Sometimes I shout it too

With her I had no clue

.

My love comes in all forms

She’s cold and lukewarm

When she melts I melt with her

I have faith in her rigid lorn

.

Chant and sing these warnings

She is everything

She is nothing within

On the mountain where I placed her

She was my only friend

.

I was free to scrutinize her

She was decay and serpent

Offered me to experience life freely

She wouldn’t dare come with me

I’d repent to see her nearly

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You

The mystic, the wonder

The ending of my cycles

Severed as selfish stings of venom

It’s you

It’s you

You gave, oh yes you did

Fickle flavor created my taste

And as my appetite fluctuates

I choose to starve

Washed over in drought

Sand dunes and Florida watered illusions

I see you

I saw you

I thank you

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Forget

Forget

Let go

I’m confused, crippled as so

Our spring through and through

We passion

We shout

We quarrel

Over your bed of moss

It feels secure to love, risk lost

Forget

Let go

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Tiny glass

My lover was passive

He was made of glass and

We didn’t appear full enough

Tried making eye contact in summer trees

Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees

Just tiny things playing make believe