Death is little more

With all this talk of heaven.
Lapping at your feet.
Washes only the surface.
Never flowing deep.
For inside the bones are rotten.
And the sins stain and swell.
Redemption is forgotten.
Perpetuating your own hell.

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Severing

Esoteric sounds lie heavy in the air.
A calling, during the severing.
Deep dark pits that burrow into the earth.
Lay grinning, awaiting to swallow the cast aside past.
Life, like a kitchen table; un-pretty yet stable.
Holds the weight of what the angels let fall.
Sweet apples off their vine’s.
The well is dry, the phone is dead.
All connections are lost.
In that moment of sutterment.
Keep quiet, hear the utterment.
Close your eyes to what is being read.
The future hangs in those gum trees.
It murmurs in that warm southern ocean tide.
Deliverance from the space that darkness possessed.
Awash with light in which to drown.
Soft misty words of hope, that piece the world together again.

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.

Vermilion

In the struggles of my bones.
Sweet blood running free. Down to the edge of the world.
You didn’t ask me what I thought.
Which is why you left me there.
Predisposed to hope. As the world tipped over.
The oceans emptied into my soul, and I began to float.
Pulled by the moon in a turmoil tide.
The blood lapping at my mind.
Under such tearaway skin, your rivers run the same.
A scarlet surge of pain.
Inside, both still wet.
I want to carve you out of stone.
But your bones won’t allow it.
It keeps me touching your sweet face.
Feeling your heartbeat vibrate the sails that take you further away.
Off into that isolated horizon.
But upon these salty sands, carried by the red river.
I find your message, bottled up and ready to explode.
This doesn’t feel like an apology.
Only a declaration of freedom.
Signed in vermilion.

Love regulator

Your tissue and bone, like hammer and stone.
Lay me down with the poison.
Counting heart beats, the frenzied heat of your touch.
Leads to my defensive corrosion.
Strychnine, and baths of turpentine.
Strip away my doubts, in a sweet sublime.
Your kiss. The dangerous list of a vessel.
Aching to be near you. Pumping to please you.
And sinking with your tide.

Beauty in the chaos

To catch your life in a dream or a swell.
Pulled by the lunar tide.
An electric blue that pushes through my veins.
This memory fuses and counteracts.
Seeped in the pressure and the pull of your eye.
Your storm that rages.
A beauty in such chaos.
Entering, as if on cue, your third act.
Gaining speed and precipitation.
I’m lost in the moment, catching debris in my heart.
Trying to keep you from peeking outside, out of this love.
Hiding the sunsets and sweet golden blue skies.
Do you remember you?
I ride out this terrible storm.
Promising salvation in these scared arms.
That bend and shake in the winds like the trees uprooted.
Running to the sea.
Thrown out of heaven.
Yet, I am still not afraid.