In-Between thoughts

Oh this heart has witnessed such unimaginable things.
Beating into yesterday, hoping for tomorrow.
This renouncing of a god served a purpose for the hour.
And birthed such maddening overwhelm.
Apocalyptic daydreams that swung in the breeze.
Hanging heads like melancholic flowers.
Plant it here, neatly and quick.
The thought within, itching and humming radioactively.
Around it salt was strewn, forming a circle like a halo around the moon.
Wolves howled, and seas stormed.
The mind asunder, ravaged by the absence of purpose.
Of hope.
Trying to join the dots in the empty space.
Acrophobically conditioned to fail.

Fragile to tomorrow

Fill the voids with treasure.
Beauty to banish the dark.
Fill your mind with flowers.
Because you know what is coming.
The fingers around your heart.
Cold as the hope you had for change.
Creaking against tomorrow faintly.
Delicate as god’s trust.
You suck the petals to feel the bloom.
Mother’s womb, and all the dreams you buried.
But the soil and sadness win out.
And the treasure turns to tin foil.
This gloomy dissonance reverberates.
As you fade once more into silence.

Sleep separator

Found in rainbows.
Black and grey in-between.
Like the darkest deeds to an envious man.
Hidden in plain sight.
Illuminate with the perfume of regret.
Sticky and sickly.
It causes the teeth to itch.
And the dreams to flinch from yesterday’s call.
When will those traumas fade?
Never, replies the well in our soul.

Allow the undoing

Paradise falls, as we bury the feathers.
A crumbling collection of corroded attempts.
The remains of Babel mixed with the tears of God.
Never for me, only by your design.
Crafted out of an ego that you can never resign.
You lay siege on me with it.
Tapping at my glass heart.
Rapping into my bloody soul.
The storm around bellows.
Shaking the fragile shelves where I placed our love.
Like water in a vase, the love flows over.
Shaken by the ground swell and anger.
The sloshing an slashing make way.
Like a parade of sad elephants from your mouth.
Unravelling the red.
Undoing the gold.
I sit without a crown, without a king or queen by this side.
Eating the apples so justly plucked.
Watching it all swarm and swell.
Rip and rampage through it all.
Watching Rome burn and the walls fall.
Smiling, like mockingbirds in the dawn.
Allowing the earth to suck the air away from me.
Knowing this is truly a beginning.
Seeing the light once more reflected in tomorrow’s song.

Operating as an individual being of consciousness

He came to this world, alone. Hoping to find all that he ever wanted.
His eyes were dusted, by moon flecks and divine difference.
The blood that coursed within, seemed shared at first. Red, like the mottled sickly streams he had seen elsewhere. Those rivers of regret he had touched with his fingers. Sticking his hand into their hearts.
Wanting to be their reason not to, or one that forced them on.
He crowned himself, and wore a smile that betrayed the sadness within.
Oh how they came, flooding his eyes like a tsunami unleashed from desperation. Some waved him by, eager to remain on their little universe of self. Not ready to let anyone inside to wreak havoc.
All this crumbled of course, as the crown melted in the light. And the skin was seen to be what it was, paper thin and reading words of yesterday.
So he tried to leave, but they would not let him. They ground his bones into finer feelings and swallowed them in great gushes of fear. He tasted of wine and tomorrow. In the aftertaste of a paradise, clinging to their mouths and minds.
He could’ve stayed there, slipping slowly into the bloodstream. But he knew, as he’d always known, that he would need to leave.
And the wooden stones that now bear his name, in a likeness painted in heady pastel colours, his spirit lingers.
But his soul has long since gone.
Returned, like we all must, to where it belongs.

Patience

Little pebbles of time, tumbling in his head.
Grains of moments, swept into the dunes of life.
Patient he sat.
Listening to the creak of tolerance.
He watched as the world tipped over.
Righted itself, then swim off into the cosmos.
God came and went, decrying this and that.
And still he sat.
The paint peeled away.
The skeleton frayed.
He lost and gained everything there in a minute.
In an epoch.
Patiently he waited.
Counting, not the moments, but the heartbeats.
Waiting for them to finally arrive.
And for the beats to stop.

Occasional ruckus

Wrapped in the 21st century.
Shattering all trauma.
Which built against little empires.
Punching blindly in this fight for life.
Yet asked not to kill.

Die a little.
Crying happiness.
Lying slowly.
Counting stars.

Face first on the concrete.
Unwrapping the other side.
A tidied dream of destroying how it was.
The questions move me to new terrain.
Setting fires to light my way.