Serene in your slumber
your eyes like twin commas
on a face that tells me
your heart is happy.
And I glow inside.
Stay the NightSleep, my perfection
and I too will shut my eyes
like the moon mourns the light of day
so it can slip away
into a union with the sky.
Then the stars will wink at us from above,
privy to our not-so secret love,
and our slumber will resemble
the softest of waves as they tumble
into each other with unbridled joy.
As chilled air seeps into our shared dreams,
we will nuzzle up and burrow deep,
inhaling the scent of the freshly laundered
before the hours are quickly squandered
by a sun that swiftly draws the night away.
Yet fear not, my love
for we have learnt to allay the dawn--
when it cajoles the night to retreat,
we smuggle the stars in cottony sheets
and covet the moon with our kisses.
And the night will never feel as young
as when our bliss has sung
the lyrics of a life now lived as one.
ReunionI used to howl when twilight descended;
my muse a yellow orb leading me--
my guidepost in a sea of darkness
so black my heart turned inky
My paw prints created paths of dust
and my tail swept them clean
as it hung so low
to match the bellow
in my heart.
The stars could not quell my yearning,
which twinkled faintly till morning
drove me to fitful sleeping
and the dew gathered like tears
weeping on a dull grey coat.
Then, when my desire to live subsided,
the sky at night turned lighter
and my eyes gleamed brighter
as winter carpeted the land in flakes of lace.
And I heard his howling
even before I spied him lolloping
on banks of snow and ice,
his hind legs carrying him to me
in powerful long strides.
Winter's embrace never felt more bracing
than it did that fateful morning
when our noses met in a moist reunion
and the skies turned a soft vermillion
as our hearts finally intertwined.
My RewardYou are my quest--
that beckoning in my RPG called life
that detour from what I have charted.
But the game was not won
by my following the trail of crumbs
laid before me;
the game was over when I met you
for I wanted to play no more,
wanted no part of this existence
that plodded on with no investment of passion.
There was no levelling up in my world--
no little man in a suit and tie to save me
to bend time and slow motion
to piece together the puzzles
that would lead to my happiness;
no dark soldier swinging his oversized sword
battling the demons of emptiness
to salvage my loneliness;
no tiny robot fuelled by a loyal heart
doggedly searching for his true love
in a world of discarded parts.
In a massive universe of multi-players
battling the futility of existence
to attain an inscrutable treasure,
I found you--
a gem in a village of clans,
a clue to lead me forward,
an option when I had so few--
are my extra life,
you filled up my health bar
so I could break free
from this endl
FixationI will be a hermit for you;
I'll hide away
remake each day anew--
just you and me
just we two.
You are my retreat from the world;
I feel your love
as I curl
my sweetness all around you.
I will scale mountains with you;
I take in the keen air
and savour your face
like a breathtaking view.
I want to roam the earth with only you by my side;
I want to forget
and the why
because all that means nothing
if I didn't have you.
I won't forgetI will always remember
you quietly waiting in the corridors
and opening doors for me to pass through
you drifting in and out of office spaces
and as we walked with matching paces
your smile would quietly etch itself into my memories
of what we were when we were not together.
I will always remember the feelings I wanted to forget
as I walked the limits of darkness every night,
my loneliness like a silhouette
that knew no respite
from the resounding cries
of the kookaburras in the trees
weeping for the heart that wanted to be free
to be with the you
who could not be with me.
I will always remember the voice inside my head
uttering a love that could not be said
across the oceans and the miles
that stretched like a chasm before us
but it was never a distance we did not surmount--
each night a transgression of space and time,
a compression of our imaginations and our minds.
I will never forget these slivers of a past
that used to haunt us with the pain of our non-existence
in a reality we'd
CollaborationThe spatter on screen
unfurls around the edges
of swelling twin flames
that flicker and gleam,
my quickening heartbeat
with an incandescent cresting.
My fingertips rest
on your smooth shaft of creation
as your fingers enfold mine
taking me to the brink of elation;
your grasp is as firm and sure
as your love is sweet and pure
and your clasp a tactile deviation
from the concave artifice I call my life,
from its mundane vexations.
And so we compose--
the liquid dreams of a new furnace
burnish our collaboration
and vacate our days
of the prosaic and pedestrian;
our passion consumes us,
distilling our fusion into embers
that irradiate our creative consummation.
My Baby (reprise)The night throws its light
on your face,
your breath catches and takes
in the glow from the moonbeams
as my love streams
In your slumber you remember
the memories of a past never lived
but imagined a million times
in the recesses of your mind,
more real than reality
now enjoyed in drowsy serenity.
As I watch your twin commas flicker
your lips gently quiver
with the weight of tonight's kiss,
your cool brown fringe
casting shadows tinged
with our union's bliss.
Someone once told me
That my mind was poisoned
By the white man.
That I was already dead
To my people.
I don't believe a human being
Is inherently evil
Or wishes harm on someone.
The beauty of being a puzzle piece
Is that we're equally important
But remain different.
there's something fatal about coughing up verse.i got written up for writing poetry on the desks
i don't think they liked the language i used
when i wrote how my heart was beating
like headboards against the walls of people fucking
at 3 am to the sounds of joy division
whenever you read me paintings at dawn.
they were going to send me to the counselor,
but i said my therapist probably wouldn't like that,
so they just let me go.
but this saturday, when i'm cleaning lives off of every desk in school,
i'll just be thinking how much i'd rather be sitting on your roof
and laughing when we argue about rimbaud
and sighing as we start to die.
The Owl's RiddleYou come and ask me,
but you don't always understand my answers.
You meet me in the night,
but I'm not a bird of darkness.
Venom QuillVenom Quill 9/26/14
I'll tattoo you with a poison quill
all the venom I will spill
So all the misery you imbued
will permanently stick to you.
I cannot find any time
when you did not feed me lines.
So I will etch on you all the
pain inside my skin
until the message sinks right in.
WineHead on a patisserie table
with a wine-scented napkin
that I scrawled your name all over
in the hopes it might necromance
or just romance you
to this place, at this time,
so we could be together again
and although the guitarist knows
that I'm broken beyond blue
I keep reaching for the bottle
in the hopes it might recreate
or just replicate
short history of the universe(what it's like is anne sexton quoting van gogh about sometimes having a terrible need for religion)
A lake slams into a bus and a city is unborn.
Enter an ocean of fog and then desert after desert stacked above the hills.
Then you get drunk as fuck near the tumbling skyline,
and this god damned room burns like prayer in your chest.
Then many missing scientists reappear in your brittle beach,
and your satellites in relapse all bending,
and what it's like is some kind of disaster, honestly;
the arms and the aerosol and the linen and the light.
And the rumble forwarding the sovereign wreck saying
survive yourself like you've survived me;
saying the game-changing theory was that everything is always moving,
and same for the carousal shadow bleeding through the mountain in your dream,
same for your silence and the sudden red rain of witnesses.
And then what unconquerable continents,
what strange forecast occupied via gate via wind and wave-
multitudes of sick yellow branch
to the ghosts with you, my deari came not to be kissed,
or to have myself cradled
in the curve of a throat,
but to be broken,
to be diminished
by your lack of affection
& over indulgence of sexualization.
uneducated in your intent,
found myself left entirely whole
& incapable of the fury
i had sought to sow between the
ridges of my aching ribs.
muddy waterthe sun rises late now. or hardly ever.
or belligerent carmine on the underbellies of plants.
a shot of sleep to the head, a boxing glove punch.
the metaphorical rooster crows with the awful clamour of its lonely breath.
the thing is, i can substitute the body.
the thing is, the slit
is a fantastic shade of orange
i saw god but he says you still need to get a fucking job
the thing is, i am bathtub water and rotten leaves.
and the taste of power on the morning wind,
a wet newspaper
with the headlines of a presidential divorce.
there is power in the young eagle
hissing at passersby from its trashcan throne.
i know one thing: