Monday, February 17, 2014

"Du, Mitt Konstverk" (12/27/13)

As the bumbling crow flies to sing
I try to wonder how life would be
Without a sequential secant of nothing
Silently echoing itself to and from me

Cyclical healings and forgotten rituals
Empowering the processes of power
Reversing unto spikes in these aerials
To eternally kindle the cure to this cower

You, the embodiment of all here unsaid
Are enlightened based on constructs in your head
I, myself still, meet anonymous subjection
Hailing the hegemony of happiness's rejection

"Love Triangles" (2/17/2014)

First a triad of mountain, earth and sea
Flinging parallel lights like thoughts so flickering
Bringing a close to desire to see it in the morning
and for a moment I find the strength to dream

Like dryads in the night we fail to reflect light
Black and white lives in a blue and redlit night
To recall what now deems erroneous I must fight
All to appear now as a weary parade of light

So of tired red eyes to the red in the sky never mine
say to see the one final cumulative star from familiar patterns
And of the most joyless tirades
is to remember one's own dreams

"Thy Light" (2/2/14)

Eros draining the sea
Let thyself come my desire
Lay down thy memory
For a moment retire

How sweet the rhetoric
Written in thy roots
Whenst potentials course muck
Slandered by reason's brutes

Thy light in both eyes prudent
Parallax within my mire
And, oh, just for a moment
I descend to retire

"Rack Focus" (2/2/14)

So suddenly close up
Focused not in the fore
Grounded in your head, somewhere
A sound crashes sand in your rack
The shifty apparatus through which I close my eyes
Slowly, blowing the flickering light of
existence unknowingly with every natural breath
Until all patterns, limbs, rearrange
and the breath in my eyes turns from the candle
to the sea
only you and me

"A Manuscript" (2/2/14)

A preface to that of yours
the law of multiplication is double-edged, bored
virgin to my eyes
but something starcrosses the sum of you and unity

We take a moment of silence as I look out the window with someone else's eyes
Where is the red in the sky?
Would it not appear until I die?

The cylinders did not surface here until I transcribed the sky
And in all of these lies I forgot about you
Who will have to wait up for me
Whoever you may be

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

"He Walked"

He walked inside with one intention, solid, passive yet strong. Familiar hopes that more would soon follow. The odd bystander may have familiarized his previous entries to seek brief fixes, but he did see nobody. He didn't see through his eyes.

He walked the corridors to give the impression he was intent on anything else, to whom he did not know. A bottle of water is the one good he shared with everyone else. Impatient with the narrow, white lines, he patiently made the exchange - nothing to something. Something that could very well stack something on nothing, even if that something is nothing.

"I hope you feel better," the woman remarked as she bid his intention in a black plastic bag. Those words, the only words he may have heard all day, were both as genuine and feigned as his reply - "Thanks," as he struggled in thought to feel the irony.

Words grew slowly after that moment, but little more blossomed. He walked to his vehicle to make haste to remove his mark, hoping briefly and briefly to blossom just one more intention, solid, passive yet strong.

He walked.

"Home"

To defend against the allergens of existence
Flare up the signals, tried untrue
Autoindulgence and autoerotic shutdown
My will is not my own
But a small pill to swallow as this home

To defend against the days before a sense
Excite the fingers stiffly for you until it is true
A home before now will never be found
The pill is not the one
But its interior crumbles as all inward flow

To defend against the times unspent
Valueless currency with which to thrive anew
Outward flow is subdued, condemned to the pits
Nothing is ever fun
And the sum above and below absolute continues the blow

Attack all hope, or all virtue, and all ashen swords of the past
With no allies inward or out, it will soon cease to last