My lungs expandMy lungs expand,
struggling with their burden
holding what seems like writhing fire
while all the burning, screaming patterns
of hot red light, and yellow suns
erupt in color-splatters
and paint themselves on the inside
of my eyelids
they burst over and over again
the aftermath of day-painted cherry bombs
until each fades into its shadow
and is later adapted,
into some new violent tapestry.
My lungs refuse me-
they've been filled with life
to sustain the flesh- capsule that contains them
but they refuse.
and so my body shoots up
propelled by my spasming legs
and of course, urgency
my arrival at the surface comes
with a gasping, wrenching performance
as I break the skin and suck in air
gasping, coughing, spitting out water
(my damn fool mouth opened too soon,
just tell me when it stops doing that
at every given opportunity)
I open my eyes and feel the chlorine sting
I bob on the surface, treading
with my sun-baked face upturned
and water draining off it
while another light sho
there is a savior's handbag in my fridgeYou linger on the Mediterranean,
chasing the sun,
waiting for the next target
dance backwards, darling
down the path to our promised dreams
we learned the religion of lovers leaving
butterfly love, sailor[s], salt-
the full-time dreamer
is alone in the dark.
so this is the path to paradise?
when the moon shines?
you bend like the wave,
reaching [for] a darker side of love
(breathing the dark)
I won't let you go back
to the nightmare king
distant fires are
the colors of god's magic
waves of melodious color
are breaching the wall
on the last day of our acquaintance.
(i can make you love me)
Relief in rejection- AA day 10I want to step out,
with a light in my head
a loose chest, every muscle sagging
in that good kind of limp
I want to breathe in
a broad hope for adventure
naivety somehow removed
or just a trivial concern
I'd like to watch
the gladiator death of revenge
so spectators remember:
"it put up a good fight
but lost out, to itself"
I want to step out
[of my skin?]
because I'm sure I'm vibrating
I am pure enthusiasm,
no, I'm on a sharp edge
but it's important that I'm balanced
as I'm producing and inflating
almost rejecting, but then absorbing
the sun-baked air that promises
the departure of regret.
I would like to go to the funeral
[of any hurt pride]
of my desire to win.
To subside, to regress- NaPoWriMo day 9To simply subside
to regress, sink, and recede
is to find the soul
far from heart, but nearing
what the heart tried not to see.
A child's nightmare wolf- AA day 9There was a wolf inside my head
who came into my darkened room
to lurk beside me, in the gloom
and warned me not to leave my bed.
With glowing eyes,
and breath that clung
to sweat-soaked sheets
he came as close as he could dare
to catch me up inside his glare.
My wolf said, "Hush, you'll be consumed,
I'll eat you up, and you'll be dead,
just some bones left, and smears of red
with mother night to be your tomb".
Each night, the same
with the wolf so near
at the foot of my bed
at the side, by my ear
with his eyes a strange green
and his mouth a fixed leer.
"I'll eat you," he growled, "you'll bleed, you'll be dead"
but he's gone, I'm now grown, and I'm safe, in my bed.
Some wilderness of pines AA day 8Is this, then, the extent of it?
the train came and went back
so is this all of it, every bit that I am to receive?
This is what my efforts have given to me-
the train screamed at me
every night at three until I thought
maybe it isn’t a plaintive mechanical passerby’s death scream
it could just as easily be a call to action
a cry to follow justice
to the depths at the end
“You need to wake up
wake up, and go
where your sleeping eyes have led you”
says some night train
but maybe it lies.
Is this the end of it, then?
I very much doubt that this is all
I can give
[though this is all of it]
that I have been able to find
if I followed my night train
I’d end up somewhere with rusted tracks
high up in the thickly wooded mountains
where the edge drops off
leaving me to hold up a wilderness of stars
with no mind to conjure up parameters
to confine them
and bringing only famine to the moon-drenched
pine oasis I woul
Let me shiver AA day 7Promise to never make me put shoes on my feet, please
I prefer it when my feet are bare, wriggling marauders
dancing on the rough pavement, or burrowing into earth
when the ground is my pumice stone, grinding me down
removing each layer as I progress, my existence
relieved by and dependent on such simple freedoms
Promise to never make me wear a jacket, when freedoms
are contained in each goose bump born on my skin, each to please
and delight me with their tingling expansion into their existence
they scurry over my flesh with an eagerness, little marauders
the teasing cold breeze giving birth to what refuses to settle down
this exquisite experience of being so far from the warm womb of the earth
Swear that you won't cover me with a blanket, when the earth
drifts out of orbit and leaves Sol's embrace to seek all possible freedoms
I would want to join her in her ecstasy, in her death a
Fool's bloodI used to have a treasure of words, now abandoned
they all lie deathly pale, where I left them, in the sand
dirtied, and though precious, they are defeated
lying still where they dropped from my shaking palms.
to remain through the decaying years where I had left them
to slowly absolve themselves of my sins.
When confronted, in past times, with my sentient sins
I used to think they could be cleverly abandoned
that somehow, with some little struggle, I could leave them
in rows, pathetically dying in the undulating sand
to pour them, with my blood, out of my palms
To get to nowhere AA day 6I’ve got to get to nowhere
where I am quiet and alone
with no one in the seams
of the sky that I have sown
I’ve got to get to nowhere
where I am small and very bland
it’s far better to blend in
than to pride on bringing light
to all the many people
who take pride in losing sight
of the bleakest of their landscapes
where dirty diapers, ashtrays,
all decorate the blight.
I’ve got to get to nowhere
where I’m pleasantly alone
where I’m happy doing nothing
as I do it on my own
but first I’ve got to get to someplace
where the noise is pain and dread
because I’d like to get to someplace
while I’m still inside my head.
I have to get to somewhere
a lively, thrumming someplace
where I’m alive and humming
someplace to cool my head
but until I’ve found the pathway
until I’ve found the road there
I’ll have to steal a moment
(a very quiet moment)
to appreciate instead.