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Literature Text
leave me in the dry sockets of your gums;
i see your half-smile through the faded skies -- where you lie now,
broken bristles, deeper cuts,
slowly swallowed by antidepressants.
eating away at you, like the one i know too;
sadness is buried inside your
deepest wounds, happiness layered
above the scars
the burden of sexual endeavours,
the fear of being challanged by
the darkness at only
seventeen.
unknown is your enemy
as you are faced by the
Queen's warriors, to which
you do not know.
what can you do ... when the darkness consumes you?
i see your half-smile through the faded skies -- where you lie now,
broken bristles, deeper cuts,
slowly swallowed by antidepressants.
eating away at you, like the one i know too;
sadness is buried inside your
deepest wounds, happiness layered
above the scars
the burden of sexual endeavours,
the fear of being challanged by
the darkness at only
seventeen.
unknown is your enemy
as you are faced by the
Queen's warriors, to which
you do not know.
what can you do ... when the darkness consumes you?
Literature
In Name Only
the last great novel to annex a king
we sang songs and hymns in the western twilight
. . .
intergalactic lanes
distances that break minds
here we are
a gyroscope hurtling through space
a great marble cue ball of blues, whites, and greens
but you leave that terra verandah son,
you get out there north of Saturn,
passing by the rings on your way to Neptune...
and it's as though the whole apparatus
all nine spheres is stood on end
and there you are, staring down that ancient well
staring down at the Spanish moss couture of Louisiana live oaks
staring down at West Texas oil rigs
staring down at Kilimanjaro, Erebus, and Wrangell-St. E
Literature
This Side of the Clouds
there is soil
that will never produce flowers,
rain that chokes
more than it quenches,
and some stones, unsatisfied
with being near-impenetrable,
still opt to wage
slow crystallized war
beating back the plague of man
for we are willful, but empty,
a collected misdirection
that lost so much more
than just its way,
our mineral eyes may be diamonds
but the setting is loose
and their cut has no character
merely fluid, taking the shape
of situation and its spoils
we're dead as an uncelebrated christ
dead like old grain in the silo
vermin crawled, rot riddled
awaiting a further processing
we must so richly deserve,
and a lick of salt and bite of
Literature
Demons
Demons don't die
They hide
Underneath memories
Underneath emotions
Foreign
In their immense power
They reside
Deep in the bones
Their whispers seep
Through tired muscles
They persist
Through gaps in lucidity
Their touch excites
Needle sharp
In the naked brain
On the ice-cold skin
Fright
Repeats its patterns
Demons cut
Their twisted way
Into the mind broken
Shifting shadows
Haunt
The lonely silence
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This is just incredible. You use words so beautifully.