What is the hardest thing?
A glowing orb at an unending tunnel
Flashing lights in otherwise darkness
Moments of stillness broken by reality
A whisper one still remembers
Sun so long ago
And a night that must end.
But how soft it can often hit
Like haze on a full moons glow
Orbs opening
And a bead of sweat upon thy lip.
Pain can remain
And lost within thy brow
A handful often mistaken rashly
Just as this lingering upper back kink.
Take my visual fragments
And place them at the foot
Of an old chedi,
For I don’t want my queues
To scatter my own thoughts
Like a back alley
I’ve stood for too long admiring.
Take my meaning
And lessen it’s grip
For it crawls
And has not yet learned
The intricacies of
Falling and getting up,
Though these scuffed knees
Have surely tried
Against the pain.
Hold my hand and remember
That I’m not here for a long time,
This shall become dust
And my subscriptions shall expire
Like organics back to earth,
Like music into silence
For it is without question
That life surely begets death.
Could you reach out to me
With even just one shred of urgency?
Pain, desire
Some kind of emotion
That speaks to me of your tune
So acutely set to the vibration
Of your heart.
Draws havoc
Across the desired pages of my mind.
Keeping me awake and suffering
As my candles burn down low,
Offering me a little glimpse
Of how brightly you glow for me.
And the whisper of tides keep rolling
That makes the engine hardly slowing
In a growing pain of knowing
For all elephants have gone blind.
In an innocent game she was glowing
Until a judge became the one blowing
Lost in depths of spiraling
The end was all she could find.
Then all at once there came a calling
An old standard with sweet beckoning
With wallets that were fattening
Only hygiene long left behind.
So the two and their sweet romancing
Called the pastor who came running
He knew what was then demanding
No opposition of any kind.
And like buskers at the happening
They all packed up and left no remembering
A lot like old elephants fattening
No story left on each their mind.
I am sad
For I have not closed my door,
I have left it open to the world
That climbs and claws
To its desired height.
And my skin has begun to bleed
Where once it was supple
In rash and scale,
Blueberry wine.
I am sad
And my glasses haven’t fit
Since I sat boldly
At the ocean’s edge
Wishing I didn’t feel this pain
And could not see
Ocean’s spray.
Windows rush into my brain
Crying for no pain
Then as release comes alive
A target of surprise
Moments shift into a view
Causing shifts into wind
And slowly what was a gold tree
Looses its leaves in sly
Shut and closed for weather seal
Locked for another season
Windows wash away the pain
And the Dust settles
And my Gods lay their hands
Onto my sunken shoulders
And say: “My son, my son.”
And like the letters
That fade away
At the end of bent pages,
These eyes begin to close
And this chapter finds its end.
There is a coldness in my knees
That you have taken as your pain
Three roses in a clear glass vase
Four fingers slender and delicate
Married and mixed in my sun spotted desk
Floating bits of life’s decay
Piano music to my center.
I am nothing
For this is changing.
My knowledge has been,
My journey long gone,
Sense of self abandoned
And the lizards
Have begun to infest
Each broken hallow,
Each arching pain
That has dropped
And begun no start
For I am nothing
Like candles run wax.
I finally lost it
Dying embers of a blue hidden sun
Closing in on the gypsy caravan
Callused and tired
Sweat perspiring in long streaks
Nostrils flairing
Slight rustling of nearby poplar trees
And the echo of every footstep
Beating out of tune with thy heartbeat.
One last moment
Erased the pain
No longer present
Between shoulder blades and spine,
A hoot broke the echoing
Going deeper inside my brain
A distant owl
Awake to the day
Unaware the danger
Of finding myself in
So the path led twisting
Towards a deeper understanding
Of fungii and lichen
Flora and the rot of its day
Until the madness set in
Spiraling to tree tops touching open sky
And a little beaver dam turned waterfall
Gurgling goodnight.