Preoccupation

to have arrived
is to die

I have since
surrounded myself
with cut-out cardboard
reconfigured with no particular preference

staples and tape

to ward off the hatred

a color completely devoid
of vindictiveness

the windowless model is quite suitable

for I have not the time
to look up
and ahead

I am far too caught-up
in this whole “being dead” thing

oh, what a dreadful façade

[image credit: Jan Toorop]

Pointed Lessons

the abstract tapestry of thought and emotion
sifting through memories
persisting beyond the toll of midnight

a surreality poignance fraught
amidst your fabled absence

through context into lucid light
those wayward flecks take flight

seeing now
the urgency defining bated breath

hindsight is a bird unbounded
heaven’s haste begets unheeding

by the merit of its taste
left on the tongue in lingering

how is it that voices lacking tangible disclosure
visibly vociferate through vales
our verities unseen

only to be vetted in the aftermath
of fate’s denouement

moments later, vested virtues
forsaken anew

by the nighest conscious duress
of my conscience’s affording

i will honor your bestowing
in the bastion of my breast

pray not let these pointed lessons fall
when life resumes its pique

[image credit: Edouard Goerg]

When Today Found Me

and it was today

not knowing its meaning
not knowing why

i know that i love you.

that nothing remains

in this nomad’s world

for hands to behold

but the fleeting whispers
through eyes spent

desiccant.

i watch
immured in solitude

when laymen’s hours prohibit

with all they dared to disregard.

i struggle to make out a face
its features framed of faint obscure

ne’er could i mistake
that feeling

the comfort of your company

forever, it resides within me.

with naught but useless
power of flesh

i flounder in this hopeless muster

holding onto dust
the taste of rust upon my quivered lip

all that i do humbly ask
would you now hear this utterance

“just one simple sentiment, i miss you.”.

through these memories, i bleed
into somatic nights of static

’til our stars again align

go now

ravage every sky
that stings with freedom
whence sought of your heart’s requite

[image credit: Sadanobu Hasegawa IV]

Before Us

to awaken
into death

is the dream
none dare brandish

listless, heavy-lidded
landslide

in somnolous languor

beholden to the mercy
of a cursed blink

and the blinding
of our blackest truth

laid out
to die
before us

[image credit: Francisco de Goya]