Patient embarrassment

This mind approaches this Hebrew.
Recycling memories and social conditions.
The by-products of a life lived in mediocrity.
In normalcy and disdain.
If I pulled a page from my book, what would you read?
For whatever words appear, I would be ashamed.
Everything is dipped in modesty.
All of this, will be forgotten.
Now these letters tell me I can change my future.
The fate, once in the hands of the gods, is now my own.
Such freedom scares my cells.
Shocks and shudders this soul into a new way of being.
Of speaking, words that come now after thinking.
Born in a place more pure than preceding.
Words that would not come before.
Now exhumed from a grave that was buried by the past.
By hands that hoped to lock away the secret.
Oh those sympathetic characters.
Burying such treasures for us.
Those sentinels stand now on our watchtower.
Lighting flames and beacons to guide our path.
Connecting lines now to heaven.
אלוהים יקר, תודה על הסבלנות.

Light

The light in a teardrop, approaching.
Destroying the dark that sits like soil on your cheeks.
A wrecking river of black, dispelled by a single candle.
That single effort of change.
Who knows how small the room is when the lights are off.
When the darkness wins.
Yet each day the universe contracts, birthing out the sun.
Raining down solar tears to burn away the oil.
Speckle me now with Aztec gold hidden in the sky.
A craved warmth and a touch from god.
Too long in the cold and dark, we’ve become skeletons to sadness.
Choking on soot and solitude.
My eyes wish for radiation, to burn away the memories.
Of a time and state that held me prisoner.
We now feel such rapture in the knowing.
That nothing lasts forever.

Odd-fellow

Silently he sits, as his eyes cross the room.
The breeze flutters in, rustling the magazines and small talk.
Chatter and buzz, tea and coffee cups.
A man joins at his side, greeting no one.
Shaking hands with only his past.
The smile on both, reaches around.
Unsettles the young, but comforts the knowing.
Clothes dishevelled. Hair uncombed.
The smudges on their glasses irritate no one.
They are alone in their memories.
Caring not for the call to eat.
Or the call of nature.
Held captive by a guest never welcomed in.
But tantalises them with sugar coated histories.
And kisses of those already dead.
They are friendly, but lost.
Vacant in their static.
Soon they will be put to bed.
Tucked in with their nightmares and stained sheets.
Yet these men are like astronauts, time travellers and heroes.
They survive what we will never see.
Only odd, to a world which purifies.
And wishes to erase what it doesn’t understand.

Ghosts

A Collaborative poem with ‘Enshrined Poetry’ (not the first time, more here).


It splits my soul.
Dragged back towards these melancholy shores.
Running through the downpour of emotions and memories.
Slick and sticky.
Covering me completely.
The ghosts gather, licking their ectoplasmic lips.
Feasting on the flesh of a thousand mistakes.
The subtle beasts, stealing my lazy reveries.
They haunt me still.
Rumbling up and down these bones, while I shiver towards catatonic sunder.
The god shape hole is backfilled with the deeds of the devil.
A By-product of love maneuvers and binding selfishness.
Like evolution.
The toxic waste of time.
………………..
Oh El I, El I….
………………..
Sweet and short reprieve.
What libertine hope is haloed into these thought chests?
Where ghosts hold the keys and cover the locks.
They never had the power of speech, yet their words haunt and taunt me.
They know the reasons for these tears.
Smiling at the circumstance.
With a spectral hand they reach in and catch me off guard.
Talismans dropped and facing away from mecca.
They whistle my lingo, until I’m driven into solid black and white.
Kiss me over and over again, staining my broken lips with shame.
As I absorb the white noise.
The crackle and hisses coil.
A mountain of monsters merge into one.
All names fade away, into the pinhole of the shadowless.

 

Cellophane

This picture of you, drawn out of such a moment in time.
Chiselled out of the clouds and into my eye.
I reached inside of myself, only to find you there.
Setting up a place for us.
A home, deep within the fathoms of my uncertainty.
Placing sticks and rugs over deep old wounds.
Silently you swell.
Sweetly you settle.
Patching holes and broken pieces of the past.
I radiate out a pulse, searching for something to slip away into.
But I’m up strung up in you willowed reaches.
Your horizoned heart.
Your memory beaches.
Ultimately I relinquish and peel off my skin.
The fuselage of fear splinters away and we brace for impact.
Washing ashore of this Elysium dream.