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Reflection Upon FearI've searched for the arbitrary,
Found places abandoned to a plague,
Under restoration yet unrestored:
Awl-marks tagged for eternity,
Fresh rage scored the plaster,
Hastily-painted mural of Christ
Marred upon the stone façade,
The scaffolding’s chain of pipes
And planks were
Dark with soot, vacated.
Some things in us that we can't see
Are narrow, dead ends from pillar
To post, soundlessly guiding where
We shouldn't be led.
He who grabs and demands an open hand
From which to stand again
May stand, higher even,
On other men.
Dust particles poised to curse us,
We cannot cure the condition of "versus".
Children play kick-the-can
With a dented censer;
I watch them battle with each kick, a
Fresh perfume of cinders.
The Carrion My fingers itch to intertwine
With votive texts; the withered spine
Of ills and mornings lost
To fingerprints, embossed.
Remembering the aimless days,
I cannot sleep, a clawing craze
Comes atom-small but grows
And stirs my firm repose.
But roguish ran the vein of plot,
What complicated parts and naught
A show of lissome prose,
I turn inward and close.
God with honor, hang your head,
Wild silk you've spun instead
Of Truth's thread; your traces,
Features in our faces.
What partly-colored pain is this,
Acrylic and acidic kiss -
Your stories are no home,
No crueler end can come.
My fingers now are filthy teeth,
Old artworks drawing blood beneath
The words I can't pronounce;
Hunger is but an ounce.
Heaven's a tempest carrying
The carrion meat - the craving
For purpose, in service;
The search for worth, bi
Iceboundmore infinite than
space are memories made
blind in moonlight
trembles beneath the touch of
dawn's first breath
camouflage of ice,
the waves' sigh
of snow cradles dawn,
the ice solidifies
one hesitant step
leads a man's wanderlust thoughts
to something lost
harsh sunlight echoes
upon the waters shore. her
breath lingers no more.
In Wait (A Tale Of Untaken Bait)Bass stop snapping up the squid,
Ditto for the halibut;
Yellowtail pop up, the line never taut.
She'd Take The Devil At His WordAt first glance, her world rolls on
Unbroken, timid eyes;
At first thought, she can't be tender,
Would quickly dart and strip away
Ecstasy's face; a compelling fire
Of flesh in offering
To the night's knife-sharp perspiration.
How beautiful that form expressed,
Pulled by splinters beneath a skin of ropes
And smeared like a thick liquor;
Her possession, becoming possessed,
A devil's depth in adjuration
That I may gash her to pieces and receive nothing;
Her being hollow -
I swallow -
Her being a song, I sing.
Digital WitnessAlready now it stings, hollow nibbles between being swallowed whole,
I die tonight, my life destined to be shared and liked,
Already now it seems the billowy ocean of clicks have found me.
I died without trying, to see him at the pane I sit,
To meet him whom unsubscribed, my life a lofty prize
Plowed through and trod down, powerless against the scroll.
Already now the force of blows, mixed with the incense-steam,
Seem to me less as weapons, more melancholy comments
Attentively neglected; I trust nothing, and expect less.
I am hostage to a powerful host,
Honored to be an awful ghost
Living still in others' eyes,
Through old memories and new replies.
Expectation Of An AvalancheOur emptiness, our spades and saws,
Old tools become debris,
The shattered bricks, a flayed applause
Shaking the snowy sea.
Tomorrow and the muted crawl,
The air's shock caught up, surging fall,
Beyond, until the motion stalls.
The bloodless gallop of the void
Between a dreamer's bones,
And at the foot lay there, destroyed,
Dissolving little ones -
So was it then, an elegy?
To soften their geometry,
So was it, then?
So was it then
When ice was all that I could see?
Alignment of translucent dunes,
Glass roofs but gravestones be;
Giving shelter to shedding moons
All polished perfectly.
An avalanche, as one would say,
No anchored noise thrown in the way,
To seize the feet with frozen clay.
Yet convalescence strips away
That jewel-box whose stems may slake
The eyes' long-thirsty lust of gray -
Our emptiness outwears and breaks.
No arabesque to dress the heart
Nor quickly sway its idle aches;
To whisk off vertigo, to part,
Our emptiness o
And Chains Will Not Release MeA certain pride and certain awe I see,
At times, your ardor all but has you gripped,
Yet not with love for your own child, or me,
But only for his newest manuscript.
Your verses are a gift from God himself,
Yet you dwell on those sentences amiss,
'Tis your novels that should be on the shelf,
But you treat each word as a crude, lewd kiss.
I'm writing this in hopes that you may know,
Finally understand what you ignore,
My veiled voice has long been pleading "Go..",
But 'tis I who must choose to stay no more.
Your words have chains and meaning thick as lead,
And chains will not release me once they're said.
Beware Of The Bad BoySo he touches you in all of the right places
But with a clenched fist and not a gentle hand
By ‘right places’ I mean those easily hidden
By the latest expensive designer brand
Which he buys you to either keep your silence
Or to beg and to plead for your forgiveness
Is this where the attraction of a bad boy lies?
Please explain where is the excitement in this?
So he kisses you with a so-called passion
His hands round your neck steal a two letter word
It seems that he cannot feel satisfaction
Unless you show him signs that his dominance hurts
Which he tightens each time to keep your silence
Or maybe he just enjoys hearing you moan
Is this the deed of some stalker, some stranger?
No, this is your husband and this is your home
So he lays you out on the living room floor
I wonder what will fall down to the carpet first
The drops of blood from between your legs
Or the tears flowing between his regretful words
Which he whispers in your ear as you lay silent
It’s safe to say
Introspection in a Pale Moon LightAm I a dream of the universe?
A microcosm of the cosmos
A transient flash of memory
Soon forgotten for eternity
Am I a conscious collection of atoms?
Converging together at random
An essence in constant motion
Like a ripple upon the ocean
We are all made of star dust
Born when giant gas clouds combust
In a symphony of the spheres
Free from anxiety and of fears
We are never ending energy
Dancing across the galaxy
From Andromeda to the Milky Way
Like a ballerina in a ballet
WordsIt’s when I get my thoughts to rhyme
That I can truly start to see
What has been swirling in my mind,
And then I get to set it free.
A turmoil of chaotic calls
Becomes a desperate, pleading choir
Of thousands of tangled words
Awaiting me to help them thrive.
They cry, and weep, and beg like kids,
Won’t let me drown myself in sleep
Until I give them what they need –
A string of rhythm and sense to grip.
I strive and strive to make them speak
And give them a melodic vibe.
Yet their presence is too weak,
I'm losing hope that they'll survive.
But after stumbling time and time
Again to let them slip away
I start to hear their chime.
I start to see them find a way.
So one by one and step by step
I see them coming up to me.
They join to spin a magic web –
My soul’s true epitome.
And that’s the place they shall remain,
In subtle, fearless accord.
I never thought that I could tame
Such mischievous, capricious words.
So now I’m pacing back and forth
DethronedDelicate fingertips were once against my cheek,
as were the smiles that you so affectionately cast towards me.
But then you tossed me into the gaping sea,
and I am no longer a beloved queen to thee.
She Does Not Love YouDo not hear
Her glorious speech
Pretend to be deaf.
Elude her hair
Dancing in the air
Don’t think about
Those sunny eyes
Knowing your past
With just one look.
Avoid her laugh
A melody of harp
Played by angels.
She’s hurting you
Giving you false
When she reveals
All her evil plan
You will be broken
Thinking about suicide.
Bury the memories
With you by her side
Even if they are
The best times
Of your life.
A Rainy PlaceWandering roads that branch so I can never see
Where the path I choose will likely carry me
Then comes the fear
As apprehension looms above
Like the cloud I am always victim of
Driest days are still enough to make me drown
Happy plays go on in side my little crown
But always in
To show these thoughts enlightening
Speed up the coming derailing
Conclusions crash from up above
To think my mind was stronger stuff
A paper boat
In sea that grows around my feet
The longer I wait with all the thoughts I keep
Mask the way with rain as paved paths taper on
The traveller who must be gone
Then comes the pain
How I cannot be one of them
Who takes a gamble on a whim
Yesterday was long before the one I made
I forget how many of them passed the same
My will is only weakening
Come future I will not be able swimming
Earth to break from where I stand as water falls
Wash the state lethargic I am victim of
Unable to move
Even when all offered it slowly takes
With nothing left I will not wake
Stone HeartStone Heart
From Heart of Stone by Akela-Nakamura
A heart lost blood long ago
From flesh it turned to stone
It could not know the love we feel
So it lay in a dead chest alone
A heart of stone cannot feel
The love that lies all around
It cannot express that same love
If one day that love is found
CureI know that it may not be fair,
but please make no mistake ...
The cure can be its own disease
and just as hard to take.
Balancing the consequences,
just to stay on top
of yet another losing battle
that seems to never stop.
Earth's Edge BluesI went to the kitchen but you were not there,
I went to the kitchen but you were not there.
I guess you left to find that sweet somewhere.
I went to the porch and called your name,
I went to the porch and called your name.
All I saw were moon and stars, what a shame.
I called your phone and heard a message,
I called your phone and heard a message.
Your voice said, gone to find the earth’s far edge.
I went to the bedroom but it was empty,
I went to the bedroom but it was empty.
Hard to know what got you tempted.
Kitchen, porch and bedroom, all too small,
Kitchen, porch and bedroom, all too small.
If you find the edge, well, please don’t fall.
Seeking An Alternate CementHow curious, a dusk of doubt
That loosens boyish light,
So clear a splendor lit about
The plain, rainladen night,
And yet again the grimy choice
'Tween wayward paths or weary voice,
And yet again
And yet, again,
A mocking laugh amid the noise.
My heavy tongue, its essence low,
Still speaks the same of you,
The passing of a beauty, oh,
Such an awful avenue
That memory, the city wide
With youth and heart, what could have died?
That stung its monkish pride.
There's a road unmapped, a widewinged stretch
Against the gray and bloodless sky,
It bends and bows, uncertain steps - an etch
Of some echo that cannot die.
I'll chase it down through flowy prose,
To read of its feeling beneath the toes,
I'll chase it down,
I'll chase it down
And not care where it goes.
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