Second sight

Going towards the resolve, the 20/20 equaling higher.
A Fissure in my memory, wraps around the stillness.
I allow the world to hum and clatter around me.
All in its beautiful chaotic busyness.
Your X-rays burn through, avoiding the heart and preventing the cancer.
This realness drifts up towards heaven.
You cherish it all, pulling it close to smell the stench of love.
We are everything.
This blindness no longer fits me, like all of these clothes we shed.
Cast like tears in space.
Swimming in ignorance makes me long for bliss.
Thank god for you. Your bones and skin.
This place where your feet touch the ground is now sacred.
Where you breathe is where I take a picture.
You heart I steal as a souvenir.
Still like the frosted birds and the rocks we climbed upon.
The sand where we walk each year, burying time like a box of treasure.
Refracting in your presence, I see your glory in my second sight.
Your cat eyes shimmer, as I count your nine lives.
Trying to keep up.
As your eyes set sail for the horizon.
Anchoring us to the future.
Blinking away the memory of pain forever.

Dredge

What was searched for, what was found?
Ghosts and bones came up when I dredged the past.
Copper coins over eyes and broken lies.
An old bicycle of pain lodged in my heart.
Let’s leave them there, let’s leave them be.
For now, I’ve changed my mind.

Dislocate

This life, that fear of loving.
Of believing what is all around here.
A junction in your bones, fragile and misdirected.
Second hand bodies that fall like sad embarrassed eyes.
Only when the lights are out.
These fears call out your name.
Swim into your dreams and pollutes this bloodstream.
Who touched that velvet treasure?
You take rib, and scream a pleasure.
I feel the truth like each vertebrae.
You dislocate.
You propagate a new feeling within me.
A love so tender and tasty, it reeks of construction.
Of chaos and completion.
Slid off the bone of life.
All the noise seems to fade away.
To a coffin quiet existence that allows me to hear the future.
While you cover this love in salt for protection.
And I hold your bones in mine.
Counting the path of your spine.
Silently whispering to the angels a thanks.
For returning what once was ours.

Winter descends

Winter comes, like all the seasons.
Betrays the summer with its frozen reasons.
Killing off the leaves which cling so desperate to the branch.
And in my own mind’s yearly tree.
I hunker down quite hastily.
Sparing the blossoms of my head for another notch of time.
Surrounded and lost by love and laughter.
A festive phase much sought-after.
Frozen in the static of knowing where it all began.
So begin to fold the year away.
For memories linger but rarely stay.
Till’ soon it’s all forgotten like a love we had before.
And now the snow fills up my veins.
Frost and sadness cause fresh new pains.
And these bones are breaking to the cold creeping across the floor.
Yet while isn’t bleak and cold mid-winter.
There is a promise we can disinter.
Not guaranteed, there is a spring around God’s open door.
So enjoy the snow for it has never lasted.
A fading dust seasonally granted.
A beauty in the frozen landscape of winter’s yearly dance.
Make merry while you turn and tide.
Smile and bow to December’s bride.
Then greet tomorrow’s calendar with a better version than before.

Marker: Black bones vanished

To leave this weary land, is like turning off a light.
My tiny heart is shattered into a million little pieces.
Please understand.
I can no longer fight.
My black bones crumble and my eyes bleed.
And this heart struggles, squeezed by a ghost of a dream I once made.
You lost your way, but are happy with what you found.
Caught between goodbye and complications.
I long for more than this, and the sky above is opening.
I must leave, so please understand my departure.
For to remain allows the belief that I understand.
And linger like a taste in your mouth.
So I will disappear, like words of love and forever.
Muttered into my ear as you cum.
But my exit wounds will never heal.
And your soul, that I tried to steal, will freeze in your bones.
That walk and creak to a lonely death.
Silently stuttering my name.

Buds and bones

If this is the last and the final time.
Then button my eyes and draw the line.
And keep me hidden beneath the ground.
Where earthly secrets and worms are found.
For if you are not the beat of my heart.
Then into death my journey must start.
And silence my mind as it heaves to you.
Kill this love which you’ve broke in two.

Calling out in the dark

Smother and blanket, the ashen world of night.
What deeds are done when all cats look grey?
Who calls to you, when the moon has risen?
That inner part, that secret self.
Exploding in a fountain of stars.
When no eyes can follow, and your dreams are laid.
You left your bones asleep.
And followed the call into the dark.
Beyond the woods, above the trees.
A calling like a ghost on the breeze.
And a voice inside came alive, speaking out and in tongues.
A religion long buried, now dusted off with great movement.
You travel to the moon, and night swim in their minds.
Licking your fingers to the magic left behind.
Darkness and dawn.
Shedding skin and cells.
Becoming what you always knew you were.
You’re new state of being blind.

The Wind

The wind that howls, is the one that kills.
Blowing through these bones, coming down the hills.
Picking up like the devil’s breath.
It runs amok and hurries my death.
For though I’m not fragile as a slanted tree.
Or small, or weak and feathery.
The wind that howls is beyond my control.
It fans your flames that are burning my soul.

يتساءل

And after all this time, where have I been?
Picking wonderments off these eyeballs.
Peeling moments off my skin.
Weary hearts and feet tell my tale.
Of lands baked in summer gold.
I licked the rubies there, tasted the royalty.
Scared away the ghosts that threatened to follow.
A Land of milk and honey, resided in these bones so hollow and dusty.
Washing away the arthritic rhythms of a life half led.
And though sometimes I despair.
Searching for the darkness when there seems nothing else to grasp.
Tiny voices carry, across the seas to me.
From the angels, who have already won.
Promising me a winter song, still left to sing.

Cling like fire

Thunder echoes upon thunder.
Such sound and pulse over you.
Divine intent, yet we are human in the end.
This I Ching dependence and temporal space.
Leaves my bones aching.
My soul itching.
My wrists are heavy when the storm passes.
Bruised and smashed like the clouds hitting the heavens.
You are a warning, unfathomed and unheeded.
Striking the town and burning our souls.
This empress in the flames. The emperor on the throne.
Centering me and aligning such vivid thoughts.
Startled screams as you nervously laugh.
A future written in the fire.
There, so far away from now. *If you need to know the end.

Tsunami

We stand on the shore, called down by the ocean.
The sweet swell motions the blood.
Reminds me I am human.
I feel safe in this storm.
As the wind rushes these bones.
Threatening the inevitable damage, I wait for the change.
Holding out for such wild destruction.
This land knows me not, we are but visitors here.
Collecting coconuts of contempt that we store for every season.
Each man an island. Each one built on sand.
Atlantis parading in peril.
Off on the horizon the ship struggles.
Souls shuffle, towards that great divide.
For that I cry.
But the tempest suffocates.
Throws away my tears, out into the eye that hovers.
And weeps only painful laments.
God watching on, lifting no finger.
Remembering the flood.
Soon we are drowning, smashed by the waves.
Broken on the shore of our lives that already began to recede.
I crawled once from the sea.
And too it now, we have returned.
Scattered and in pieces.
Littering the ocean floor.

Rush the future

Speak to me in delicious dreams.
The weighty shrouds yearning to be unravelled.
Long have we both lay dormant.
Pooling words and hurt inside these broken bones.
Ignition sparks from redemption.
Static colossal movements, like the heavens shifting.
And pain retreating.
The covering of clouds which take us far away from here.
Feeling the future like precious see through gold.
Ecstatically we disappear.

Filter

With a tapping on these hollow bones.
Echo excuses.
Yet the tender skin, pulls you in.
These eyes blink as they reconstruct.
Speaking words that silently fill the air, with one harvesting look.
It’s these systems that are used, drummed out of fallen trees that stood watching over the dinosaurs.
Pouring that sticky sap into golden ears.
It’s seems delicious that movement.
Skin that sways like a moon tide, drifting into aching harbours.
Wooden bones, felled in a Pisces rising.
The sweetest time to hew and marvel.
Yet a switching off of this world leaves you vacant.
Wandering in that pasture where the insects buzz and sting.
That filter you use offers no clemency.
As poison needs no audience to flood the blood.
And you are now too far from home to be saved.
So we’ll bury you where you lay.
Covering you in shells and sweet kisses.
Eternally disconnected.

Verdure adjustment

Needle pines in palms.
The leaves grow, flow and blossom off these fingertips.
The brush of the wind, like the breath of mother earth, rustles what has formed.
Green, like the emerald forests that now hold my bones.
They sway and swoon catching the dying sun.
Holding onto the little jewels of oxygen for a moment too long.
Before the great exhale.
A chance to turn clouds into mountains that sail over tempting shores.
The leaves, bitter smelling like eucalyptus and amphetamines.
Fragrant and fragile, I break at a careless touch.
For the sun often harms, and this brittle heart demands a different type of love.
Shaded and soft, like a kiss from butteries’ feet.
Touching these olive blades deep.
High, tall and commanding if left in the sight of love.
These leaves, fronds of sweet depth cruise upwards.
Wanting to touch the sky.
And caress the face of God.

Threat

The folds of the future, on a serrated line.
Do not cross the marker. Don’t enter the forest.
A Sound emits from the belly of the earth.
This stirring rumble shakes the pots from the ledges.
Loud is the sound, as it travels under your skin.
Consuming you like tiny bears, fluffy and in your veins.
The forest was always out of bounds.
They knew what awaited.
Yet they built your houses right next to it.
Eye lines and heartbeats finding a mark.
They tell you to keep out, they warned you often.
But they lead you to the tips of the trees.
Tickle you with possibilities.
And so the inevitable.
The forest captures you.
The monster consumes you.
Plucking out the bones to play haunting tunes that drift on the wind.
A threat in the thicket.
The doom in the gloom that drenches like oil.
I found your bones of course.
I always knew.
Having much lingered on the other side of the trees.
Up high, having learned how to climb.
I see the monster, I saw the demise.
I know how it ends.

Red #1: Red rain

Clumsily those bones broke.
Splintered and collapsed in the red rain.
An aching for all the world to see.
They want to give you cartoon kisses.
They want to trap your ghost.
You drag it all to the city limits.
Where there was once a river that used to run.
Under blue skies and summer sun.
Now the red rain washes only into your eyes.
Crimsoning your view of the outskirts.
What really is that thorn in your side?
What turned your bones to chalk?
You sit down by the apple tree, dyed a ruby red.
Nursing the self-made scratches.
Covering up the scars.
Who became you inside, when you true self fled?
Hanging your head is too easy, so raise it to the sky.
Push the bones back in place, silently cry in pain.
Wait for the flood.
From the sweet divine red rain.

Accelerate

What have you done?
Today, this life; where have you gone?
Which root did you pull out?
What bone did you break?
What flood turned to drought?
Which love to an ache.
You may forgot everything in the end.
As time shuffles by, and souls begin to bend.
But you have each moment, each second in the sun.
A little tiny diamond, reserved for each one.
To pick up today, and more the day after.
A small little treasure, like happiness and laughter.
So forget the mould and oil that covers you like gloom.
And go out and discover, and shoot for the moon.

The Last day of sanity

You burned the books. Too many pages and insights.
A paper mountain of truths you couldn’t climb.
Ripping out the hearts of those lonely men who confessed everything.
In unintelligible writing.
How you move through us now.
A pulsing fire like the sacking of Troy.
You leave them restless and weak.
Numbed by those empty regions of your mind.
There is a fire in Heaven tonight.
A blaze that the tears of angels could not extinguish.
Yet it floods down here on earth.
A holy water that washes everything clean, but you.
That fire above reflects in your velvet eyes.
An empty pit of pity, where not even the righteous can escape.
But you pay no mind, for there is no mind to offer.
Flashing snow white bones to all who see.
As you move through once more, the Helen of your own making.
Laughing, as the Heavens fall.

93

Lost, feeling the way out.
Travelling through the veins of god.
Hearing that global heartbeat.
I want to swallow the moon tonight.
To feel the tidal shift in my stomach.
To spit out the bones of the past.
And the well-travelled tin cans.
I touch this earth, and it feels like home.
Yet when my eyes blink open.
I am crushed by the weight of this world.
I belong here, but a million miles behind in time.
Waiting for the palm leaves and ferns to sprout in my veins.
I wish to return, and remain.
Eating forbidden fruit.
Running with the beasts.
Perhaps the change will come from inside.
Washing over me like conscience.
Seeing the divine in all that my eyes lay upon.
This is our home. It’s our only one.
Ninety three million miles from the sun.

Downfall in disappointment

As it comes on with no surprise.
Like the lead in the paint that hangs on these walls.
The disappointment blooms, like you knew it would.
The little teeth of trust you let drop.
Like the milk bones of youth.
I will only disappoint, because you allow me to let you down.
You trap yourself in walls of expectation.
Painting them black and red.
Matching your eyes.
Which follow and watch with such greedy intent.
Drilling the holes in me that allows the dam to burst.
And flood this space with regret.
For these disappointments clink like the ice in your glass.
Unneeded, for you are already chilled to the bone.
Moving through the crowd, placing us like chess pieces.
High up on the pedestal.
Setting us all up to fall.

Peck

There, can you hear it?
A relentless tapping.
Incessant as the dark which captures the night.
It comes and never leaves. Beating out the marrow of my bones.
Do not shake your head in disbelief, it’s a nightmare for which I seek relief.
Hello, it’s me here the fluttering reminder.
You inside me, what is that sound?
It’s breaking my will and senses down.
I’m the little bird that was on your windowpane.
I came inside when you opened that vein.

And now you tap inside my skull all day?
I’m here yes, and happy to say;
better me than the moths and ghosts.
Who’d nibble at your heart like toast.
If I move to the light, will you follow?
I told you once, your head is not hollow; you know that I am here to stay.
For how long?
Well, I couldn’t say.
I hope my fluttering would lodge that organ.
Of pulsing grey and tangle webs.
Of thoughts and hopes inside this head.
Lodge them why, what do I need?
I am safe alone, without any need;
of impulses that force me out of comfort.
Or being lost, failed abandoned then hurt.
I tap and knock as an irritant reminder.
You’re wasting time here, like a static sidewinder.
An empty column of force and wind.
That’s fading fast, anorexically thinned.

(Sigh)
I know, you’re right, but what can I do?
I had my dreams, but away they flew.
I’ll tell you what, there is tomorrow.
I’ll start it all then, and dreams will follow.
Then I will carry on with my tapping.
To keep you from your easy napping.
I said tomorrow I’ll chase those dreams.
For now please cease these needless screams.
Of forcing me, when I’m feeling forced.
Very well my friend, you steer your course.
But If not today, then tell me then.
If not then why, and perhaps then when?

Coming up for air

All hypothetical disenchantment
How many slaps on the wrist till I get it?
Shaking with my allergic reaction to loneliness.
Call the birds down that circle above.
Peck out the disappointment and the idealistic out of this eye.
Leave to die, locked in a room where the skeletons chatter.
Locked out of heaven with the world before us.
Suddenly I’m turned down to darkness.
The dull flame that burns, struggles in the void.
Come home.
Race back and pull the car from the lake.
Only the headlights glow now under water.
The only sounds you hear are lakey tears.
Silent, in the watery body that covers me.

Opium for the soul

I feel no pain. I feel nothing.
An uncomfortable numbness itching in my bones.
How your lips bring about such devastation.
Apathaites my heart and bubbles my blood.
Oh the sweet bends that rush, twisting my insides out.
You are the opium for my soul.
The novocaine for my conscience.
Which constantly waivers into unstable territory.
You keep my ghost steady as I walk this earth.
Getting high from the lows you put me under.
Feeling flight as you watch me crawl.
Love, such a compromise anyway.