Max Meunier

January 4, 2017

I Hazard to Ponder

fragments of lovers
burned fast
fall to ash
in this charcoaled heap
that lay afoot

this exterior
excoriated
by the nails
of their failings

but none can impale

for I only have lived
in the aftermath
of a restless memory

forged in a dream

i hazard to ponder

if love had ever surpassed
the scorching
of this insolent soul.

but all I have
beheld

is mounds of
rubble
pounding
plotting
persisting.

the sea now beckons
the sanctity of sleep
on her floor
of forgiving

through this channel of tears
from sorrows impounded

January 4, 2017January 4, 2017

error #404

I was never
Meant
To exist

Not like this

Listless

It should have stayed
At just a kiss

Instead
I dream
Of emptied wrists

I should not
Have to feel

Like this

Yet I remain
Waning
Adrift

January 3, 2017February 2, 2017

A Brief Importance

in days of dust
and clouded haze
sing silent whispers
amid resignation

where muted martyrs
beckon forth
a call to arms
at arm’s length, lost

dull, broken banter
obscuring cries
as empty bottles
fill out our fears

skies loom strewed
with vacant signs
to feed the void
of eyes so vain

the passive ardor
adorning glass
peers through our window
in blighted light

a hand lay cold
on shoulder spurned
fixed in the moment
without flinching

when dusk came sweeping
the people waned
a brief importance
then saw me home

January 2, 2017January 2, 2017

I don’t know who this wonderful man is, nor do I know who took this photograph. What I do know is that this world needs more people like this. On a side note, as if the very symbolism of being homophobic weren’t projection enough, ya gotta love how they would feel so compelled as to actually depict this “sin” to which they are so emphatically ~opposed~, as part of their ≈protest≈ signage. Oddly enough, judging by the dubious depiction, it would seem as to reflect the homophobe’s innermost desires… The mere thought that any person would imagine a “god” that would “hate” any person is so fucking ludicrous and disturbing it’s no wonder we’re all despondent.

January 2, 2017January 2, 2017

In Layman’s Days

in layman’s days
sorrow yet reigns
in remnants
of our love’s refrain
disseminating
through these veins
like silken web
to dying flame
a sallow face
of shallow waste
e’er haunts the gallows
hollow space
as wraiths in fallow fields
yet reap the harvest
of a heart’s disgrace
none can replace
the solace lost
absconded by
the albatross
e’er perched atop
the arch of Eden
bound by freedom’s
final cost
where pandered woe
bleeds disarray
sleeves brandishing
a heart of clay
turned languid
from the anguish
of exsanguination
on display