The parched flower burrowsAs a drill unto the earth.Tubes made of cellulose and fiberClench and writhe and curl––A soul as desiccated as scorn-ed bones.So too, I believe,That the child is bruised and torn–– That they beget lamentationsJust before they brightly burn.
Tag Archives: free verse
A Temple for Smoke
Gain one minute.Give back five.That’s the theology of smoke.It bellows from a burning scroll.It ascends the church steeple–Infiltrates by way of ashen veinsThat congeal between the bricks.Its words on my tongueDoth stingAnd doth stainBut when expelled from my lips?I kiss a moment of flavor.One of comfort.One of still…While mother nature and sister timeLay greater burdensContinue reading “A Temple for Smoke”
The Womb of the Lake
The young man Took his step-off Into the shrouded waters, His feet eager To cleave from the lake’s pier. Slighted by rotten wood, His legs buckled, Sending splinters and moss into the air. A hegira* already misguided and breech, He surrendered himself To the choking and the sinking He waited for his prostate form ToContinue reading “The Womb of the Lake”
Sleeping Giant
When you grasp your soul in your own hands No master will be able to halt you No betrayer will be able to kill you No heretic will be able to steal you away from we Beasts will try to break you Murderers will try to burn you Poisoners will try to mar your faceContinue reading “Sleeping Giant”
Tug
The moon doesn’t shine tonight But i still feel her tug Her pull I hear the whisper of her song Drifting serene on gentle winds Too soft to know if it’s a lullaby Or a mournful dirge- Its melancholy form Barely ecking through a cloudy blanket She tugs and pulls at my heart She soothesContinue reading “Tug”
Tomorrow, More Rain
Here in the wake of things, Rain is falling again, Invading the crevices atop my skin, Dripping off my fingers With stolen warmth The ghosts of crickets Chirp into the fog, Obscuring the staccato in my chest- As if by design. Wait for me, tears. Wait for me to deign you a reason to liveContinue reading “Tomorrow, More Rain”
“She”
Though she crack, though she splinter under pressure, She knows how to hone her soul. And so breaking her bones will just supply her with sharper teeth. With murder in your mind, You left her alone with the wolves But she’s kind to dogs Knows a lullaby to sooth the hungry Jaguar By night sheContinue reading ““She””
The Poetry of Ants 