Stillness of Grief

This stillness of grief
Like a soft veil caressing my skin
Comforts yet tears – shreds
What lies within
At times I claw
Try to find a way out of myself
Leaving more wounds inside
That have no sound to imply…
This stillness of grief –
Seems a very strange thing
No help from the Universe
No salve to calm the burn
The pain masked behind my eyes
Raining tears down my throat
Still can’t calm the fire –
Smoldering, sooty, rubbly – as I choke
No revision for these words
No voice to be heard
A soft place to land
A blessing and curse
Stealing my lonely breath
Demanding my spirit; acquiesce
As my fractured heart withers like time
My soul forgetting that it’s divine…

This disparagement of love
Cupids arms overwhelmed, exhausted with sorrow
And I; in my grief I dismiss my significance
If I had meaning, or enough meaning
Would this catacomb be a sacred resting place?

This stillness of grief
Is unlike in the past –
Where raging and wailing were thrown from me –
Cast
Through the night and the valley, down walls, over fences…
Unveiling my haunting with no recompenses
Now I lay torn and crumpled, like a leaf beneath a stone
Hope, a ghost – forlorn, dismissed, wandering without a home
Where love should be soft, where love should be sweet
Instead there are barbs, rusted wire gouging me
As my hurt creeps inside this twisted cage crushing my heart
The cherished faith that love abides busted apart
Raging tears form a sea where I wish I could drown
Get lost in this burnt landscape with its sorrow bleeding down
But there’s nowhere to hide, no great escape from loves wounds
Even death won’t end this agony much too soon
This stillness of grief at this moment defines me
It’s all I know, all I feel, all I am… All I see
Turned within, flowing through yet pushed down, deep into –
Where no one else could ever bear to be
Lost although I seek…
This stillness of grief

Bereaved Shadows

Spiral Steps Summon Shamanic Symbiosis

I took you to the keeper of secrets
Your webs spun in the ceiling corners, thick and heavy with bits of blood, bone, truth, lies and pain
Too late to forgive or forget monstrosities built on deceiving ground
There are no demons that can withstand your venom –
But there are demons that can crawl in your hell
Shaking destruction and death from their ratty hair
Spitting cynical vengeance from their empty-holed sockets
While their gnarled, sticky fingers scrape the ground into wounds –
Caverns deep and horrid, that weep years of disenchantment and abandonment
Slithering tongues that lick at bitter shadows, sucking down bile like candy
Beneath a cursing moon, churning with despondent love
There is no light falling here, to soften this dank, mossy wasteland
To caress its loss
Or the futile sacrifices
To slice through screaming, begging words, that litter the frozen ground like crumpled corpses
Anger and hate co-mingled in passionate syllables –
Built from blazing memories –
An inferno of screeching blades as they saw through breastbone
To mangle, eviscerate vein from heart
Spurting unspoiled sweetness onto crumbling headstones
Red-stained devotion turned to tears of tar
The dead don’t sleep here
Misery picks at bones
Emptiness swallows time and drowns it in a bloated belly –
A whirlpool where bereaved shadows howl
Wispy fingers reaching for their displaced afterlife
Charred misconceptions, bloodstained recollections, infested deceptions
Hissing through the trees –
A death rattle
A thousand limbs writhing, rejected by mercy
The dead don’t die here
Their shadows don’t speak of memories beneath this caustic lunar sea…Stillbirth
Despite words and gestures –
Fate is the fearful masses solace
Best buried and left untended, left to the curdled weeds –
No words harvested onto cold, smooth cement to worship its fallacy
No tears, no lust, no blood lost to this graveyard
Let its bones dry and crack
Wait for the full moon and I’ll meet you there where our madness
Will muddle those bitter fruits into sweet
We’ll drink until reckless and blind to plebeian, defective drivel
Smash our way through the acerbic crust of this suns bitter harvest
Lay naked on the flowery hillside spewing words of noetic soulfulness into the ashen atmosphere
Until our last breath gives up our hummingbird shadows
Shadows that speak

Ascension II

Rococo Reach

The haunted are strangers to death
They have no familiarity with the last rise and fall, how it gasps and rattles
Catching in the middle of the breasts, deep, strong, feral –
As if to name its course, in defiance, and howl its final earthly indication
Death harbors no animosity nor is it complex
But there was no ordinary in your simple death
Cold, metal rails, tethered to warrior wrists, strange eyes in a corner, privy to your last truth
Fate has fallen into disrepair and karma into ill repute
But even as the demons churn, you remain a sacred vessel
Every scar an exquisite poem or novel, minus words, of your measure –
Your catastrophes, drenched in blood and sorrow, washed with rain…
And your pinnacles, passion and joy – mountains of fire, lit goliaths that tower over the sun, keep its secrets
Now, that last push from inside out, against your bony armature, and breath gives up its ghost
Your body lurches up, then back, cooling, fracturing – hisses out what its held in…
Sage eyes still gaze through closed lids, your spirit wild as it leaps from those sturdy, fierce bones –
To circle the room, long, dark hair whipping at the air as you climb the walls on muscled haunches
Hand to foot… hand to foot… round and round the dismal room

In a spectacular ascension to the further

And I stand in the doorway, your image – that no one else does witness – echoing in my eyes
Smashes my sanity into fragments, jagged pieces of me that slide down myself onto the cold, beige floor
I wait for intruders – hunch-backed, putrid-breathed demons with diaphanous wings to entomb me –
Scoop me up and shroud me in those wings, as if I’m wearing a second skin – to take me away from myself
In this moment I would resist, if my insanity would keep you here
But while I imbibe you, in a thousand ways from these thousand pieces of myself –
I see you shift into golden, spun strands… floating, to hover on the ceiling –
Disturbingly, unforgettably beautiful. Disquieting every truth, every reason, and then
Swaying as if dancing, spun strands of infinities of eternities, delicate, graceful, heartbreaking…
Arching and twisting, molten threads intricately weaving
I peer at your glorious rapture, entranced, lost in the moving, rooted revelation
This shattering of nowhere that is everywhere
More divine than any miracle made sweet and pure by angels breath
Enthralled with this insanity; I feast on its sweet ripeness, gorging until satiated…
Juices stain my lips, and run down my mouth
Drunk on this clumsy feast –
The river of pain rushing toward me is damned, diverted into channels burrowed by those who have gone before
If only for a moment, the demons scatter and I sink into a spongy catacomb of oblivion
Then time claws at my mind, ripping it open, its insides falling out – dripping down my throat, choking me
The plump moon, ripe with frenetic lunacy, fondles my eyes, blisters my feet as I run barefoot into the madness –

Madness is a sweet distraction, like a sadistic lover in my pretty bed

Every small, exquisite torture a way to quiet myself…
I am the demented, the wicked, the delighted damned, the depravity within, without regret…
These are not vices. These are sacred madness – my essential being
Your dark is my beautiful
I want to lurk in this alley, slink into the deep recesses that crave my fiercest pain, my ugliest truths –
Invoke the healing of my battered soul

As time moves on, it devours everything eventually, without conscience, rationality, scientific generosity

Your human form has long been gone and I wonder where you dwell around me now
Are you the breath of the trees? The murmurs of the rivers? The roughness of the stones or the softness of the grass? The crows watch me from the tops of the evergreens that you never got to see
Do they call your name when they see my tears?
Do they call my name when they see your meaning?
I exist in earthly form with gratitude for all of the beauty and the sorrow
I celebrate your existence, then and now, until I join you and we exist nowhere and everywhere