Watching Witnesses

If you could pour inside
My confused mind
Lend your beauty to my sorrows
Scrape the rust from the bone and blood
Leave me your answers, wrapped in holy cloth
Feed me my pain like sweet honey
Melt it all down –
This ripping… ripping away from you…
So I can’t tell, where your skin leaves mine –
Where our spirits pull the sutures and fall away
Down into the rabbit hole where above is below
Where you cry when you smile
And your eyes kill the lovely –
Stab its wings with a thousand cuts
Until it falls from paradise, crashing through the mirror
Impaled by your deafening, profane pain
If you could pour inside
My mangled heart
Capture my dying with your sweetness
Take it to the river and weigh it down with stones
To calm this desolation, like your hands do when I’m weary
Pressed against my temple or resting where its heavy; Each wounding burden…
Come let me stitch your wings
Let me smooth those bent feathers
So you can soar above the wreckage…
Look down on heaven with those lion eyes
Fierce and soft with fire and redemption
While the moon whispers for the wind until it finds its song –
The lyrics you left for the mountain dancers
To chant in prayer during their fire Mourning
While they wail and moan, shudder and shake, gouge their eyes, slice their skin
Their sorrowful laments breathing life into death
Moving demons to cry… to write your name on their tears
Moving angels to abandon mercy… set fire to the flowers and hammer to the stones
But this desecration… this moratorium… this… angels tribulation –
This abyss of irreverence is just a shadow in the moons eye, a window with shredded curtains
Revealing that your ephemeral existence
Is carved into the mountains, carried on the wind, flowing through the rivers, feeding the fire
Come let me stitch your wings
Let me smooth those bent feathers
Kiss your candied mouth before your journey –
Let you leave your taste on me
Oh but wait… that’s just a dream within this nightmare
Where the weeds have crept too high
Smothered the moons luminous caress
Stripped your soul until it felt devoid of the Springtime
In the Winter of your pathos
Ripping you away from yourself –
Ripping you away from me

The Dark Beauty of Love

Moonward Melancholic Midnight


In the rabbit hole
Your deft, ferocious fingers contort my mangled spirit
Slicing with appendages, sinuous and toothy; Trimming
Slivers falling away
Gluttonous lunacy deposing
You paste onto my eggshell bones
Your menagerie of lovely brooding
Tender strokes in corners and crevices
Where pasting is futile –
Needle and thread are married with bone
As I lounge in your sultry, libidinous cocoon
My demons loan their wailing to stillness
When your eyes become a bridge reckoning passage through my smoky, sooty debris
The wet earth rubs my skin, coats my scars with clay motifs of warriors that move –
Each time my ashen flesh furrows
You lift my bones to wrap my spirit beneath
Pluck at a corner snagged on a splintered fracture –
Then line it up against nettled ribs
Your breath lilac sweet against my face
You bend your head, pasting and suturing –
Dabbing at blood, woe and darkness lovingly
A silent seer of the obscure
Your innate knowing –
Epochs in the making, formed from the cohesion of brutal and divine…
A chosen one, witness, ancient synergy of all and none
Your ministrations to my desolation like a warm, numbing prayer and I
Weary, heavy in my bones
Gaze at you with loving, revering eyes –
As the last stitch is gathered, the last remnant pasted and your beautiful lips lure me
You are the need in my want –
Your petting warming my cursed, barren spirit
Your blood washing away the foul damages of my dusty bones
Your eyes flashing, provoking spark to fire –
Incinerating my achromatic existence
Your breath against my skin an homage to dismembered desire
In the rabbit hole
You tend to my savage needs
Scour my ravages
Assuage the rampage –
Before my wretched spirit canonizes this devastation
I feel my wild (long ago dissected crudely)
Climbing through my bones
Spirit and bones in a lovely mess of carnal wonder…
And my demons digress
In awe, I am finally quiet
The bleeding cools
And my bones kiss the sun…

Ask & accept “Who Am I?”

Murky Marvelous Metaphor?


Let me ask you to consider this…
There is no destiny, only questions –
The rise and fall of a heartbeat inside its bony cage
As time drops into nothingness while lips form syllables; breath meeting sound…
Dispensing with pleasantries to bite truth –
Chewing illusions until spitting their bloody pulp into storm clouds, hurling fast…
Rattling with ominous caverns –
Can life be alive… stunning… worthwhile without questioning our mechanics?
Will the dark smother the light? Will the pain of truth destroy? Has it shattered you yet?
The truth is. Always. You’ve always known but chosen to ignore…
Shards of glass, razor wire, nails, needles, rope and fire, what else? Name your haunts –
But caress inquisition beneath your dark, heavy robes
As you’re pointing viperous words to redirect –
But will you go mad without a reflection?
Spinning eyes of fire as curiosity burns…
This is where we find ourselves –
Kiss our demons sweetly and take hammer to stone, through withered palms and cloven hooves –
Nail their existence into that solid mass…
A temple… Within… A reminder that light spills through cracks, into darkness
To deny our demons is to deny our loathsome, lethal, dark beauty –
And to set those demons loose upon the innocent, including ourselves –
To view the damage those demons sow onto others through a veil, woven of the tears we reap
And the clouds storm
Roll in with their menacing caverns…
Carry death into dreams…
Shadows that inhale the purity of the soul –
Wring the light, the innocence, the divinity from its eternal form –
Wrap their lean, bony appendages around its shriveled remains, and stuff it deep into their desecrated recesses –
Where it weeps memories in reverse –
In their dead playground…
A loop in black and white –
Sans grey…
Littered water with the barren bodies of crows. Shhh. They can’t speak anymore –
Although their eyes know your secrets –
Their wings unfurl your deception
Wind whispers through sticky feathers of madness in soft form, ready to harden beneath a harsh, baking sun
The trees reek of lead –
There is no shade here
Only pockets of sideways perception, strapped onto a wildfire of stars sliding into an aphotic hole of unfathomable depth
Shimmery points sucked from their centers, shattering like ceramic toothpicks
So let me ask you to consider this…
Will you ask yourself to peel the skin and show the bones?
Will you ask the bones to crack and the veins to bleed?
Will you ask the heart to suffer and the mind to spew? —
Your angels and your demons
Your anguish and your joy
The purity and innocence
The deceptions and perversions
The truth?