An inner choir sings

You do not find it in the brush strokes of the saintly.
Or willowing wisps of utterances in cold hallowed halls.
Do not look for god in pages of prejudice.
Or underneath the rocky souls of the holy.
Light a candle and feel me.
Peel back the bits of Christ to find me.
Swimming in the shallow cells of you.
Awash, in the DNA of God.

SMARTLY DRESSED VIOLENCE (PART V)

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Peace. That’s where this magic always took him. Away from the city, from the guilt. Away from the eyes always searching for him, or the others that hung with pity. He sometimes came just to escape, though he was told he could never linger. He felt the blue light wash through his veins as he passed over into that world, out into the altered. He dropped all constraints of the world that bound him. Up was neither down nor above, it simply was just. Time had no possession of the place, the space itself was both endless and contained. It moulded to the mind of those who entered.

Today in the altered, the world was cavernous. The blue light that exploded in each moment sucked to the invisible walls that surrounded him, as if in a large cave. His mind was clouded and blocked in, thoughts echoing within him from some past voice. The space mirrored this now, his footsteps resounding back as he made his way further forward. He felt grounded, yet nothing lay below him; like walking on air. Only the electron blue particles that buzzed in their infinite gave any dimensions until he forged what he wanted, what he needed. Now the cave took shape, a pool and stone island appearing before him as some ancient Neolithic alter. Voices danced in his ear, tantric sounds that soothed and caressed him.

He made his way forward to the large stone slab and placed a book upon it from his pocket. It was the same book he used to enter this realm. It was his key to all the wonder. He opened the book to an appropriate page and rolled up his sleeves. He dug his hands then deep into the rock which was soft like sand. He pulled his fist up, creating two stone flasks that slowly turned transparent. He made the flasks similar to those found in laboratories that contain a host of nature’s wonders, as a child he loved seeing the different coloured liquids swirling in the base, waiting to be mixed into a kind of magic. Out of his pocket he took a thimble with a small spike at the end and dug it quickly into his wrist. His face registered no pain, only the calm that had found him when he entered the world. He drained his blood into the flask on his left, filling it almost to the brim. Already the blood had begun to change, flecks of red crystals had begun to form; darkening the blood and forming lumps in the flask. It slowly got darker, turning to purple then to a blue.

In the other flask, Levon whispered over the rim some words he read from the book. Softly, as if lulling a child to sleep, broken bits of a language tumbled from his mouth. The flask began to radiate and come alive, a strong neon brilliance filling it up. He took this flask and poured it into the other. The reaction was instant. The space exploded with a pure blight flash and the flask churned with a blue and white liquid which seemed to dance inside it. Levon smiled, another successful transformation. He looked at his wrist, it had healed. Nothing showed where he had dug so willingly into his skin.

He popped a stopper into the flask, and bowed in appreciation. He muttered a few more words, which rebounded off the walls of the cave and seemed to disappear up beyond, collected by winds that blew a soft smell of eucalyptus. Levon picked up the book, and put it once more into his pocket and began to retreat his steps; mumbling some words under his breath. The world collapsed and he returned back to his apartment quickly, his hand gripping the table once more. He opened his eyes to find he was now not alone at the table.

“Hello Levon, long time no see.” She said.

Bleed in backwards

It was packed so tightly that it all got stuck.
A love weeping in the sediments of us.
You can feel it rushing down that valley inside.
Crimson boats on a disappearing tide.
And though your mind seeks now to triumph.
This heart still whirls its stark defiance.
Against a gulf that keeps exceeding.
A pain that hurts and keeps repeating.
It calls upon sweet ancient magic.
The spell of love, to vanquish tragic.

Blood is thicker

The red lights blur inside my skin.
Casting reflection on the mood I’m in.
A soured feeling of discontent.
The angry ebb of self-descent.
Yet neon blood flows inside my veins.
A pumping pressure which starts to gain.
That travels north from my deep south.
And splatters the truth from out my mouth.
Though shock is not my best intention.
Or to hurt, out this invention.
But to state boldly and from love.
That the only thing we share is blood.

Pieces

Pieces float in the blood.
A crimson river, drawing up to space.
Flowers smashed into oblivion.
Only to remain. As particles of dust.
Floating inside you.
Dusting your eyelids and tainting your tongue.
Lilies and lilacs lifting into a dream.
Lifting in the pulse and throb of the heart.
Blooming in particles while they orbit your organ.
That heaves and struggles to understand.
The demise of such beauty.

Drive

You wanted to make me believe in love.
Taking my hand and leading me down the highway.
Past the car crashes of former entanglements.
The scars ever present on my mind.
The road stretches ahead, but I’m caught in the pull.
Of trying to glimpse at the dead.
You’re trying to make me believe again.
Showing me peace on the horizon.
But my palm is sweaty, and the fuel is empty.
I wonder if we’ll make it.
But I push my foot onto yours.
And I climb inside your soul.
The pedal pushes and we fly, deep into the night.
Down the road of good intentions.

IDLE HANDS

Spider vines that creep.
Under my skin, beneath the bone.
Touching you there, where I know you’d feel something.
Underneath where the devil plays.
And the intent, whispers like a tongue on the breeze.
My witch’s familiar licks the blood from these fingers.
And hunts you down.
Seeking revenge and reason for you turning my head.
And throbbing my blood.
With your idle care.
Now at the whim, of my idle hands.

Tender, the grass of war

A bloody dust covers the eyes of the onlookers.
The voyeurs of life’s sad pageant.
Cattled and rattled they sing the song of war.
A sweet lullaby to mark their intent.
The flag sticks in a body not long departed.
Stretched and lined like the marks of policies.
The bow broke and spilled them into the trenches.
Dirtied their bones and wet the bed.
What care for them as their moon-skulls broke?
Separated out into the dark sea of regret.
Piece by piece we cut away the fabric of life.
Stitched into a patchwork of redesign.
Peace and thoughts maligned.
Meet me in the sandbox, the playground, the gulf.
Help me destroy the things I do not understand.
Recess, regress. God bless this mess.
A boy lost in a man’s disappearing world.