Crushing, bleak and break,
the mechanisms of my matter
are corroded by salt —
they are choked with sand.Ripping, tear and rake,
the solutions of my mind
are dry from wind —
they are thieved by sun.River, ocean and lake,
the brittle hull of my bones
arches for touch —
it is weathered by surf.Yet I am tethered by the gull’s cry,
a wrinkled goodbye —
you are terrible in ropes and weaves and cuffs.Hope pleads the darkness from the butcher’s eye,
lips feed a thousand lies —
I cannot conjure love enough or trust
before time turns our hearts to dust.
Tag: dark poetry
Sweet & Brine
Tell me again
the story of loneliness,
of storms we cannot see.
Rainy whitecaps whipping and
icy currents.
Roaring mourning.
Descending to dark depths
where sweet and brine stir to combine.
1994
If you need me, I’ll be right here,
right where you left me,
in ’94.Familiar voices within,
somewhere stuffy, smokey, dim,
splashed with string lights,
right, they blink pink and red and white.Incense and oil,
your breath in toil, the scream,
my ears ring, and rings cling,
and my lips shudder right.Love … I’m right here,
right where you left me,
in ’94.Dewy face, hyperspace,
curls and a joker’s grin,
the palms, throat, and thighs,
trapped right in the well of those eyes.Melted ice and sweat,
the pulse and beat a threat,
such frenzy and heat,
and secrets to keep, but we’re right.Alright.
Right here,
right where you left us,
in ’94.
The Illusionist
Black strands and white hands.
Moments drip, raindrops in time,
and stars glimmer for orphans, charting a course for home.
Exhalations in the drab and lonely night,
frosted breath, solitary, such secrets,
revealing cold mists, admissions, from summer to fall to winter again.
So long.
The truth as it ticks and burns and waits,
and is withheld.
Such a fleeting thing,
devoured by the maelstrom.
So sad.
A lined brow, a river’s etching by the eyes,
but blue, blue, blue — lamenting lost light.
Something revealed, seen, known and cherished.
He is me,
even in this heat with cold lips,
the delicate tendrils of my heart stuccoed to the illusion.
Black strands and white hands.
The Engineer
White and soft — so, so white.
The badge, the tag, the sensation of bleach and clean, and iron, concrete, and walls.
Invisible fate; metal maw and melting bones, the frantic panic of the chest.
Smoke, the roaring beast,
squealing steam, and the rattle of throats; buried ghosts.Red and burning — so, so red.
The hand, the scalding palm, the sensation of seat and fear, sky, world, and centuries.
Charged ingot, betrayer and thief, the frightful hurry of the poisoned pulse.
Breathe, the eyes,
pulling color, the fear of that greater dark,Dashed heart, and the robbery of time.
Panting breath, sickened touch, and perpetual, dangerous love.
The Christian
Golden neck, jeweled flash,
such dirt and religious plots.
The sweeping sky, look loft and about,
blue and feathered white.
Yours, the knitted brow, kissed by cool green stalks,
and I, floating as in the doldrums, the endless spin of nowhere.
Water laps, but not a bird cries, or a step makes.They’re coming, love, they’re coming.
Run the black mud and rattle the heart,
a kiss in the dark.
Golden loop, dusty curls,
steel and swords and death.
The Chamberlain
Oil slick and incense putrid;
cassock folds flutter aside the heel.
Blue wanting lingers in frigid mist,
and snow, soft secrets, muted confessions.
Throat, pull the white and to the wind,
lips touch, brush, and push.
Hearts, blushing heat, and palms,
spying stars, the world’s eyes.
Spiteful ritual, crumbling ruins, cracking paint.
Careless moments conjured by glances and smiles and trepidatious fingers.
Summon God, Father, if you must;
prayer lost to begging — unraveling devotion.
The End
Once entire,
petal on the waves.
I drift, singular,
and the sun and the moons —
lift and fall.
Forever knocks — the rip and tear.
Mourning wounds in glad years —
all the good days and goodbyes.
Empty heart and yearning,
plead for the tidal shift, and you,
my other piece to miss.