After

Torpor of ambition,

An atrophy–

The flame of dead sinews,

Fume up the haze of bile.

When does it end?

The outer void of boiling death,

Frozen and gas-ripped flesh–

Breathless words silent,

Glass shattered through the black.

Tired of wanting–

A gasp in a choking cloud,

Flesh melting away while it burns,

Rendered to nothing but ash.

Beans

I have repulsively positive things to say. A big sloppy sandwich of recognition, fun and laughter. Run the fuck away while you still have legs!! Aaaahhh!

So standing in the world means not being on the ground (as much). Sometimes I sniff the dirt to remind myself that dirt and poop both end up on the bottom of my shoes.

You know what’s great? Finding people who will make crop circles with you.

Can you believe C made this for me? Sweet monkey Jeebus!! I never though green boils could be so enticing. As per my usual, I adorn all my business casual outfits with the skulls of animals I’ve eaten recently. Look at the detail!! All the tiny little crevices. You know, crevices is a terrible word.

Have a good night!

Bound In Whispers

It was the stark tension of ropes,

Screaming distress with thin threads–

Unbound, twisted madly, perilously.

As the gasps shorten–

The incessant gravity,

Holds as it only knows how.

What then if not free?

Do trees tell stories of their youth for the rocks to hear?

Does the pounding sea beg forgiveness of the shore?

I long to exude the song within–

Without taking something away.

Whispering one word at a time,

Where no expanse can prevail–

And no tide can soften into meaningless grains.

It is in the hiss of leaves,

The breaking of day,

That I know.

The Walk Awakeneing

Splashed by drops of infrequent rain,

A tune once known now sung again–

The shards that glimmer in her eyes,

Like a choir of voices suddenly alive.

Something there that had been lost,

Dust and scars made known the cost.

Afraid to cross these churning seas–

Who crest and roil continually,

Staring at stars and holding back tears,

Cast adrift for all these years.

To find a place of common ground–

A kindred soul at last is found.

Each brick laid down with true intent,

By curving arch by span is bent–

Making the clasp in equal part,

Foundations sound right from the start.

A path that’s wide but still unclear,

Surrounded by encroaching fear.

The lantern casts the light I need,

For in her eyes I’m finally freed.